Take me back to Ravenel

by thesmophorias (johnandsherlocks)

Summary:

It's been seven years since Damen was crowned king of Akielos and Laurent king of Vere, seven years since the night at Ravenel, before things fell apart.
It's been seven years since Damen's dreams of Ravenel started haunting him, aching for a future that was never meant to be, aching for Laurent, for what he thought they'd once had.

And after seven years, Damen knows it's time to move on. Can he? Can they?

 

A.k.a: What would have happened if Damen and Laurent wouldn't have fixed things up after their fallout in Kings Rising? How different would their lives be? And how would they come back to one another either way?

Notes:

I kept going over and over in my head about writing a break-up AU written within the original timeline of the books, instead of in a modern setting, and finally brought myself to do it.

Of course there will be angst but it will be well worth the pain, promise :)

This fic will probably be long. Hope to update once a week.

Warning: English is not my first language, so you may find some typos or grammatical mistakes, those are entirely my fault.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

He woke up with a start. Blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the light, taking it in. A deep breath, then another. Another. And in that limbo between consciousness and sleep, he understood. As he had so many times before.

He’d dreamt of Ravenel.

Once again.

He’d dreamt of Ravenel for the past seven years. Sometimes more frequently than usual, sometimes he would go for a while without those dreams. But they always came back.

Sometimes they came back like a dagger inserting itself on a wound Damen isn’t aware that exists until it bleeds.

Sometimes it arrived like a lullaby, lulling him to sleep, adorning every single breathing, every pant, every subtle touch, turning them into a fairytale. As if such things existed.

Sometimes it was like slipping into an old addiction, as if deleting this very memory would cause withdrawal and his own mind would refuse to that. Would hold onto it for dear life.

There had been so many variations of the dreams of Ravenel that he could no longer distinguish between myth and reality. He did not know what was summoned by his mind and what truly happened on that one night. That night.

Except that was a lie.

Of course he remembered. He remembered every single detail. The trouble he’d had as he removed Laurent’s boots. The desperation. Barely visible in Laurent, very visible in him because oh he had waited so long for that and he’d dreamt over and over about that moment, what it would feel like, what it would be. Such an impossible fantasy, something he only dared to dream about. And only when he was by himself, having nothing around him but the quiet murmur of the night. He’d dreamt of it so many times before it happened, that he just had to keep dreaming after it happened, it made sense. He didn’t expect to keep having those dreams for seven years.

The number of times Laurent bit his lip to call him by his name. Or well, his nickname.

Hello, lover. Laurent had said when they faced the truth.

I know who you are, Damianos. He’d said.

The soft gold strands of hair mixing themselves with his lips, the want, so palpable and raw, Laurent’s rigidity, and then Laurent coming apart, subtly, but with enough intensity it felt as if suddenly the room had caught on fire. They stood there panting and-

That will not do.

He shook himself out of his stupor and willed the images away.

Last night the dream had been a dagger.

No. It had been a sword, a sharp, cutting-edge sword, and it had left traces of blood behind it.

Memories have many powers, Damen had come to understand with time.

They can bring you back to life. They can make you wish you were dead. They can feel so real and so raw they can physically cause pain just by remembering them.

Intense, deep, sharp pain.

Yeah, he’d gotten used to that ache as well. It happened more frequently than he liked to admit.

Sometimes the pain was silent.

Sometimes it screamed his name. His full name. Damianos.

He knew who he was.

He’d known who he’d been.

He’d known.

Fuck. It had been seven years. Seven years. And that thought kept returning, over and over and over and Damen couldn’t stop it because then the dagger and the sword and...

And perhaps he wanted to hold onto that moment.

Hold onto that pain. Because if he didn’t-

He’d lose whatever was left of what once was.

Whatever the hell that was.

Outside, a branch twisted with the wind and brought him out of his stupor.

And Damen certainly needed a reminder that would tie him back to the present, because at the moment his mind was somewhere else entirely. Not quite in the past, no, in that realm where the dreams manage to conjure fantasies out of thin air and make them so real you start to believe that yes, this is reality. Yes, this is my life. Yes, if I wake up the strands of gold will be tangled against my lips and I will breathe his scent and he will turn and will crash against me and he will smile softly, that soft reserved smile that no one else can see and he will say, ‘hi’, softly and I won’t help it, I will smile widely and sigh contentedly, and my muscles will be relaxed and he will massage my bicep and say something stupid like call me an unbearable beast but then he’ll hold onto me and won’t let me get up. He’d say, ‘we still have the morning’ and I will revel on it. I will stay. I will always stay.

A dagger.

Twisting and turning and crushing him.

Fuck the dreams.

He leaned back against the pillow and he didn’t think about the strands of hair. He didn’t.

Go back to sleep, he thought. He’ll be there, somewhere. He didn’t say.

******

It was a warm summer in Akielos, warmer than usual, the kind that unleashes, out of nowhere, violent thunderstorms that do nothing to appease the scorching hot weather. Damen liked the warmth, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t, but sometimes the warmth felt more like a prison. This was one of those days.

Did Vere have a Summer Palace? Did Laurent go there? Did he feel imprisoned by the mild Veretian summer? Did he feel trapped by its long and tortuous winters?

Fuck, he really had to stop having those intrusive thoughts. It always happened, whenever he dreamt of him: the next day his mind was caught in a loop of wondering and regretting and wanting and hurting and-

“Your highness”, he heard behind him. Pallas.

“Yes?”

“The invitations have been sent”.

Great. Wonderful. Amazing. It was definite. Final, no turning back now, no-

“How many?”, Damen asked.

“300. Including, of course, delegates from Patras, Vask and…”, he hesitated, “-Vere”.

Damen nodded. Perhaps too quickly. Had he been too quick? He feigned nonchalance. Did he even know how to do that?

A wedding in Autumn, which meant they didn’t have much time for the preparations. The invitations, he’d been advised by the Council, were to be sent as soon as possible. A guestlist had quickly been scribbled. The kyros were all invited, Prince Torveld? He’d been asked. No. He’d replied. His father would do as a representative of Patras and so Irina’s family. Torveld did not need to be involved, thank you. Lady Vannes? Yes. King Laurent?

Absolutely not.

There would be no way on Earth he’d-

“If I may, Damia- erm, your highness”, that was Makedon speaking. “I believe the presence of the Veretian would be a positive sign, meaning the alliance is prospering. Regardless of how much I personally oppose to his presence in Akielos”.

Nikandros remained silent, he didn’t look at Damen.

All praise the alliance, Laurent had once said.

Damen knew that. Of course he knew. Of course it would be the most sensate thing to do, it would show strength, it would show that Laurent and Damianos are allies, that everything is alright.

It would be a lie.

He’d spoken to Laurent very few times in those years. He’d avoided it as much as he could. He knew Laurent had as well.

They had met two times ever since. Both encounters brief, straight to the point and downright uncomfortable, with the presence of both councils. Not many things had been shared.

Kingship suited Laurent.

“Yes”, Damen had said, “add him as a guest”.

Why did it feel so terribly wrong? Damen wondered. As soon as Pallas said that, a punching, nagging feeling took him whole, and it felt as if he was cheating. Cheating on Laurent, somehow.

It was absolutely stupid. What was he supposed to do? Wait for the rest of his life? Wait for what? Laurent had gotten the kingdom. He didn’t look back. Laurent became a king. He didn’t look back. He defeated the Regent. He didn’t look back.

He never, not once, looked back.

And Damen understood he had to move on.

Could he blame him anyway? Of course not. How could he blame him? He’d killed his brother, he’d-

Stop thinking.

“Please report to me on the status of the invitations twice a week”, Damen said, turning and leaving.

The preparations for the wedding started going underway.

“I keep objecting to that”, a voice behind him said.

“I keep noting it”, Damen replied.

“Your majesty, if I may-”

“Oh, cut it off, Nikandros, we’re alone”.

Nik sighed. “You know I don’t think that’s wise. I know you, Damen, I know the effect he has on you, and I don’t think this is the proper way to ‘move on’”.

“It’s been seven years, Nikandros. I think I can hold myself in front of him. I don’t think there’s anything to move on from”.

“I think his looks haven’t changed one bit from the last time you met”.

That was three years ago. Damen remembered. And no, they hadn’t.

“…And I know the effect those looks have on you. I know you can’t escape from them, you can’t refuse them. He could be risking your marriage, Damen, and he could put the very alliance between Vere and Akielos at risk just out of caprice, because that’s what he likes”.

“That’s enough”, Damen said, more sharply than he should have. “You don’t know him, Nik”.

“Oh, but you do? It’s been seven years, Damen. Lots of things have happened in that timespan”.

He was about to argue against it. Of course he knew him. He’d gotten to know the intricacies of his mind. He knew he lost control whenever he was too angry, he knew he had to talk him into reason to stop him from killing someone -or flagging them senselessly- he knew he hated wine, he knew the expert skill he had to conceal his emotions perfectly, but he also knew how to detect the subtle changes which signaled he’d been taken aback, the slight widening of his pupils, the contort of his mouth. He knew he hated to show that publicly and he’d trained for years to escape from those prying eyes, and so his face remained stoic even as he said the worst, more hurtful things, unnoticed from everyone but-

But him.

He knew what he liked. He liked it slow, he liked to be lavished with kisses and praise, for in bed he was the opposite of what he showed to the world: he loved to come apart, kiss by kiss. He liked it when Damen whispered into his earlobe, he loved it when Damen took his time, he-.

Except Nik was right. It had been seven years since then.

Who knew how many lovers Laurent had taken since then, he thought, his hands curling into fists.

Perhaps he’d met someone else he could confide on. Someone who really, truly, wouldn’t lie to him, wouldn’t betray him. Because Damen had said it to him once: ‘I’d never lie to you’, and that on itself was a lie. And Laurent had said it to his face, had repeated the words which had meant everything and yet had changed nothing: ‘Laurent, I am your slave’?’, he’d repeated. And that was a lie. Although, for Damen, at that very moment, it wasn’t.

Perhaps that someone hadn’t been the person who’d killed his brother.

For all he knew, Laurent right now could be a complete stranger, could be the exact opposite of the man he’d known. Nik was right, lots of things had happened in those seven years, and yet they were all a blur, the time he spent by Laurent’s side being his sharpest, most nitid memory, whatever came after that, he barely remembered. He remained silent and Nik simply stared at him, knowing he’d made his point.

The thought hurt Damen more than he dared to admit. The dagger was inserting itself on him once again, but this time his back, all of it hurt, like the whip was lashing itself onto him again and again. He drew in a deep breath. “There’s a strategic purpose to his invitation. It wasn’t what I wanted either, Nik, and you know it, you were there. But the alliance with Vere must remain strong even when my personal acquaintance with him is not. And so I’m doing this for Akielos”.

“You’re doing this because deep down inside you’re hoping he’ll come here and ask you to change your mind. One word from him and you’ll come crawling back to him”.

“That’s enough!”

“You’re saying you wouldn’t?”

“I’m saying you’re crossing the boundaries of what you’re allowed to say. I am your king”.

“I don’t see you defending yourself from these allegations”, Nik said calmly.

“I don’t think I need to excuse nor defend myself in front of my best friend. But you’re right: it’s been seven years. He’s not the same person he was. Neither am I. The Damianos you met back then would have destroyed entire kingdoms for Laurent. That is not the same Damianos you’re talking to right now. The Damianos you’re meeting right now is marrying a Patran princess, as he should be”.

Nik leaned against the pillar, looking exhausted and maybe even a bit…sad? Damen couldn’t tell, he couldn’t even tell his own emotions at the moment. He was angry, and something else… something like… nostalgic.

“I just-”, Nik started, “I saw what we were left with after you claimed your kingdom but lost him. And I don’t want to witness that ever again. Damen, you haven’t been yourself in those years. This is your one chance to go back to being the Damianos we met and loved before being traded as a slave to Vere. Do not blow it for that blond hair and those blue eyes”.

“I won’t. I won’t ruin this. I won’t go through all of it once again. I couldn’t bear it. I lost him once. Having the illusion of getting him back again and losing him I… -he cleared his throat-….that is not something I want to endure once again”.

Nik simply stared at him.

“So rest assured. Our encounters will be public and cordial and that will be it. I will marry Irina and it will be alright. He will leave after a couple of days and we’ll only meet again when it’s strictly necessary and that’s the way it will be between us”.

It hurt it hurt it hurt.

It was a thought Damen didn’t want to entertain because he didn’t want that at all.

He wanted a future with Laurent in it.

But that was impossible.

“That’s the way it is between us”.

Nik finally seemed somewhat convinced after that.

*****

He’d crossed paths with Irina a couple of times before. She was charming and quick witted, had a strong personality which did nothing to diminish her kindness nor her empathy. She was certainly a remarkable woman, and in another universe, she would have been a perfect match for Damen, if he ignored her brunette hair.

It had been seven years since his father’s death and the Council was starting to raise questions which were harder and harder to answer.

He did not want to take a wife. Absolutely not.

But he knew, one way or another, at any given moment, the time would come to make the choice and he would not be the one to do it. The Council would.

And since marrying a Veretian was impossible and still seen as something of an abomination, a Patran would do, and Irina was a perfect candidate.

It was simply a marriage of convenience, of strategy, and she seemed to think the same, for try as they might they knew whatever needed to be there for that marriage to become one of love, wasn’t there. And they were both upfront about it. Yet they knew the importance of it, they knew kingship was about taking sacrifices in the name of their kingdoms and there weren’t many options left, so they got engaged and Damen felt incredibly relieved, for she was a wonderful suitor.

The court had stopped wondering, the people were loving them and cheering for them. And thus, everything was alright.

She never, not once, had asked him about Laurent. Even though it was common knowledge what had happened between them, the rumors were always there.

She had asked him once about the scars. One night after they had lain in bed, staring into the darkness, she asked him and he told her a bit of the story: about being traded as a slave to Vere, about the Veretian prince’s reaction, about the lashing, the growing trust, the unsteady alliance to be crowned kings, about how they both had succeeded.

That was all he’d said.

She took it upon herself to kiss those scars, and it felt wrong in so many ways, but he couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t bring himself to.

That night, after she retired to her own rooms, he dreamt of Ravenel. Over and over. He dreamt of that moment, standing at the top of the fort, when Damen laid himself bare to Laurent, when he couldn’t hide it anymore, when he surrendered to whatever it was that had been growing and growing between them, until it became uncontainable, and then it came, their first kiss. He dreamt about the surprise in Laurent’s face. The initial shock. The tension. Then that moment they shared their breaths and caved in. And what it felt like.

Nothing had ever felt the same ever since.

“I can’t have this just for one night”, Damen had said to Laurent, the morning after.

“One night and one morning”, had been Laurent’s reply, and they’d made love again.

As it turned out, he could have it for just one night and one morning. He could, but he would be unhappy for the rest of his life and he would be haunted, over and over again by the memory of that one night and that one morning.

*****

True to his word, Pallas updated Damen twice a week on the status of the guests. And Damen couldn’t care less about it if he tried. He didn’t care, he just didn’t. He only cared about one name in particular.

And that name was never brought out, not once. Damen didn’t dare to ask, didn’t want to reveal his true intentions, he knew that as soon as they received confirmation, he would know.

A month had passed by, and he still didn’t receive a word from Vere.

Which was fine, better than fine, actually. Just with that, Laurent was making his own statement quite clear, and Damen couldn’t judge him, it was fine. Clearly Laurent didn’t care one little bit, didn’t think this moment was important enough for him to attend, clearly he didn’t place the same importance on the alliance as Damen did, clearly he didn’t place the same importance on Damen as he did on Laurent.

It was fine, the alliance wouldn’t be in peril, if anything, people might start to wonder, a couple of rumors would spread, they would both ignore them and carry on with their lives, the alliance will be unscathed, and Damen would marry his patran princess. It was alright.

He’d made peace with it, and honestly, Nikandros seemed very relieved at this turn of events. He even seemed to be praising Laurent’s choice silently.

One morning, while at a Council meeting, in which Damen didn’t pay much attention for his mind was somewhere else entirely, Pallas walked into the room. “Your majesty, pardon me, but I have a message for you”.

Damen frowned and stood up, walking out of the meeting room with Pallas.

“Yes?”

Pallas seemed a bit agitated, and definitely… nervous… as if he was uncertain whether he should be delivering this message at all or not. “Alright, what is it?”

“Your excellence, we’ve received a response from Vere”.

Damen’s eyes widened without even realizing it. He hadn’t been expecting a response, not anymore. “A-”, he cleared his throat, for his voice seemed to be hanging by a thread. “Hm, sorry, and?”

“His highness, the king of Vere, has accepted your invitation”.

That, Damen did not expect.

“He has?”, his voice barely a breath. He knew he sounded hurt, disappointed; he knew Pallas wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction, and he couldn’t care less.

Pallas frowned and nodded.

A dagger.

No, a whip.

He was coming here. Lords, he truly was. This was what he’d intended from the moment they sent the invitation for the very first time, why did it hurt so much? This didn’t make sense, it shouldn’t feel like this.

He would have to walk down an aisle with his spouse and he would have to face Laurent as he did so. Wishing with every fiber in his being that it was him.

All praise the alliance.

No.

Good. This was good for Akielos, good for Vere. Good, it was alright. He’d be fine. He would survive.

“That is wonderful news. See to his accommodations, I want him to feel most welcome during his stay at Akielos”.

Pallas hesitated. He didn’t bow, nor leave, he just stood there. Damen immediately knew that wasn’t the end of it. “What is it, Pallas?”

“Erm- Your honor, King Laurent has made another request”.

“Yes?”

“He would like to visit Akielos six weeks before the marriage. And he would like to remain here until the ceremony”.

That didn’t make sense. And Damen was far worse at hiding his expression when he was taken unawares. “Huh?”

“Yes, your highness. He said, he would like to meet with you to renegotiate some aspects of the treaty between Vere and Akielos”.

What?  “As in what?”, Damen asked suspiciously, completely out of clues.

Pallas looked down and moved his feet up and down, once, twice, Damen was about to grow restless and impatient, to call him out for it, when Pallas spoke once again. “As in, he would like to end it”, Pallas replied.

Chapter 2

“That fucking snake. That fucking-”

“Nik”, Damen warned him.

Nikandros sighed in exasperation. “He has fucking lost his mind! Who does he think he is?”

Damen had stood still, very still, as soon as he heard Pallas’ words, trying to understand the meaning behind them. That could be a defining moment for him, for the kingdom, for Laurent.

What the hell was Laurent thinking? Had he lost his mind?

That was how Nik found him and Damen could barely pull him towards a room and tell him what Pallas had just said.

End the treaty? End the treaty? What the fuck was wrong with him? The treaty was the only sign of stability, the only positive thing that had come out of all this mess and he was throwing it away like nothing had happened, like Damen hadn’t endured the lashing, the mistreatments, the abuse, the slavery, for Akielos, like what they had lived had meant nothing like that one night at Ravenel-

Stop.

There must be a reason for it. Laurent never acted without second intentions, and Damen truly doubted his second intentions would be to send Vere and Akielos into a stupid, senseless war just because he felt like it. He dragged a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

He wanted to kill Laurent.

Oh, how he missed that feeling of wanting to kill Laurent. Unpredictable, stone-cold Laurent.

“I told you we couldn’t trust him. I warned you against this but it’s always the same, my advices on that regard always go unnoticed and you end up dragging yourself and now Akielos into stupid situations, always the same. That fucking-”

“Nikandros!”, Damen said, “insulting him will get us nowhere, alright? We need to think this through, carefully, and give him our response as soon as possible”.

“No one else can know about this”.

“I agree.”

He slumped over the couch and dragged a deep breath. Think it through.

The way he saw it, there were two options: accept Laurent’s proposition and have him here for six weeks, six weeks that would probably be unbearable and in which Damen wasn’t so convinced Laurent would manage to get out of unscathed. He might be smart, but he was also walking into the lion’s mouth. If word got out of the ‘true’ intentions of that visit, the people from both Akielos and Vere might start assuming that a war would be underway, and that would create instability, something they both had avoided successfully so far.

The other option, well.

In the other option he didn’t get to meet with Laurent and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

But also, it meant that Laurent could assume things, and he might assume that Damen did not care about negotiations, and therefore he would call to an ending of the treaty abruptly.

At least by meeting, there was the possibility of negotiation. Without meeting there was nothing but uncertainty and bad blood between Vere and Akielos.

“Haven’t you wondered why he chose this particular moment of all to send this message to you?”, Nik said out of nowhere. Damen blinked.

“What?”

“Why did he remain silent for seven years and suddenly, when you’re getting married, he decides to come back and force you to meet him? I’m just saying-”

“You’re assuming far too many things and that won’t do. I know what you’re implying Nikandros, and that thought is absolutely preposterous”.

“I meant-”

“Listen, regardless of his motivations, which I refuse to overanalyze at the moment, this is about whether or not to accept his proposition”.

“Excuse me, I didn’t think for a second we would have a choice there. He’s pushed you against the wall. You have to accept his terms”.

“And if I don’t?”

“He’s so unpredictable he might be moving his troops towards Delpha right now for all we know, waiting for your response. He is never afraid to act nor to react, or so I gathered back then”.

“So you, who advised me to not invite him to the wedding, now are demanding we meet with him”.

“Just because it is what I advise does not mean that it is what I want”.

“What if he poisons me?”.

“I murder him with my bare hands. He is not stupid, he knows he would have nowhere to escape in Akielos”.

“Then why is he risking himself, his integrity and that of our kingdoms to come here? I don’t understand, I just don’t”.

Nik shrugged. “Everything he does, he does it for a reason. Perhaps he would like to get one last taste of you before-”

Damen pointed a finger at him, threatening. “Do not dare to end that sentence. I have had it with you and your assumptions. Call Pallas and get out of here”.

Nik rolled his eyes and muttered something along the lines of, “you didn’t say you would refuse his advances”, before walking out the door.

Damen rubbed his temple. Out of nowhere, everything had gotten so complicated. Thirty minutes ago he was okay pretending that Laurent wouldn’t come here and they would only meet again when strictly necessary and that was fine, and now Vere and Akielos could go to war because Laurent felt like it?

“Exalted”, Pallas said.

“Tell the herald to say this exact words to King Laurent: ‘your presence will be most welcome in Akielos, and especially at the wedding ceremony. Thank you, brother, for showing the importance of the strong alliance that unites Vere and Akielos”.

A lie a lie a lie a lie.

Pallas nodded and walked away.

Damen started the countdown, if his calculations were correct, Laurent was to arrive in two weeks’ time.

He had two weeks to go through every single detail of the treaty.

******

“Lilac is a hideous color to be getting married in, Damen”, Jokaste said as she walked into the backyard. “I’ve been trying to speak some sense into your team and your betrothed, but they won’t listen to me. She will look pathetic, so will you”.

Damen was reading and overanalyzing the treaty for the twentieth time this week, and he didn’t look up to meet her. She eyed him with curiosity. When the words struck him, Damen closed the parchment quickly and she stared, eyebrows raised. “What have you got there?”, she asked.

“Nothing”.

“The wedding vows?”

The what? Damen didn’t ask, he didn’t even care to. All those things seemed irrelevant at the moment.

“None of your business”.

Jokaste sat next to him and stared straight ahead. “I might as well be living under a rock with you keeping me locked in that awful wing of the palace, but I’ve heard the rumors. He’s coming earlier than expected, isn’t he?”

Of all people Damen had to discuss this with, Jokaste was the last person he would want to involve, but there was no point in hiding it from her, after all, Laurent was going to arrive in a week.

“Yes”.

“And now you’re looking at the treaty between Akielos and Vere”.

“Damn you and your fucking ability to read into everything and everyone”.

“I am not asking you to disclose your intentions to me. I know you won’t”.

“Well, you traded me with Vere so, pardon me if I wish to maintain some secrecy surrounding this”.

“Him being here will be fun”, she said with a mischievous smile.

“Fantastic. You two can join forces and make my life a living nightmare whilst my fiancée wonders what the hell did she get into”.

“I’ve been giving her advice”.

“You’ve been what”, he said.

“It’s getting boring in here, Damen, I need to find something to do whilst Egerius is with his tutor”.

“So you’re spending your free time trying to destroy my marriage”.

“No, no, only making it stronger. Believe me, if someone were to destroy it, that person wouldn’t be me”.

“It’s so easy to trust you”.

“She could ask Laurent for advice-”.

“I will not have this conversation with you”.

Jokaste smiled. “He’s smart, I grant him that much. Strategic, too”.

Curiosity got the best out of him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean”, she said, turning to look at him, “that a frail relationship between Akielos and Patras is exactly what Vere needs right now, it would only make them stronger. People like him and I have ulterior motives into everything we do, and I’m certain he’s coming here to ruin your marriage and gain something out of it. It’s actually quite a remarkable revenge: he ruins the person you’re bedding out of retaliation for bedding him, and at the same time ruins Akielos and Patras’ relationship, leaving Vere unscathed”.

“So you’re here to warn me”.

“Whatever made you think that?”, she said standing up. She planted a kiss to Damen’s cheek and whispered into his ear: “I’d check that treaty very, very carefully if I were you”.

********

 Irina was staring at him fixedly. And under the lights of the torches that lit his room, her green eyes seemed to go through a variety of colors, from grey, to blue, to jade, to coal. He stared back.

He sighed. “Alright, shoot”.

She sat at his couch. Patran clothings were different from Akielos’. Her chiton wasn’t a chiton, it was a flowy robe made out of veils, which seemed to flow easily with the wind and the air. Their dresses were long but made to endure the scorching Akielon summer. Her green dress matched her eyes. “You’ve been acting weird”.

“I haven’t”.

She rolled her eyes. “I won’t argue with you about that. We both know is true”.

“It isn’t”.

“I met King Laurent a couple of months after Prince Auguste died”, she said out of nowhere.

He sat on the bed, taken aback. He was not expecting to hear that. Frankly, he didn’t know what to expect at all.

“He was intimidating”, she kept talking calmly, “even then. He looked at the Patran delegation with distrust, and who could blame him. He wouldn’t talk to us, and whenever he did, he was sharp and hurtful. I remember he even spat on one of us, don’t ask me why. I’m still wondering how that didn’t lead to a diplomatic conflict between Vere and Patras”.

Damen smiled despite himself. “He has his ways”.

“Anything I should know before he arrives?”, she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m still trying to figure out how you can call an ‘ally’ to someone who kept you as a slave, tortured you, and whose brother you killed. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, but I wouldn’t call that a strong alliance. I would call it as if one is expecting the other to fall”.

Damen felt angry at her words. How dare she? Just because he’d known him once she thought she could define whatever their alliance was? Whatever it meant? He felt the heat rising to his face, and he was ready to spout out a thousand words defending Laurent, explaining that it wasn’t like that at all, that it hadn’t been like that, that she didn’t know a thing, that she didn’t have the right to-

He stopped himself.

Perhaps she was right.

Perhaps she didn’t have enough knowledge of Laurent to start assuming things, but neither did he. On Monday morning, he would stand in front of a stranger, a stranger he’d once shared the bed with and whose memory he’d imprinted in every corner of his brain. Perhaps he’d known that Laurent, but this Laurent was about to throw their treaty to the trash as if it were something disposable, as if it wasn’t a direct response to the violence, to the senseless slaughter which had culminated with his brother’s death.

Truth was, at the moment, he was closer to not knowing who Laurent was than to actually knowing him at all.

He cleared his throat. “Not much to learn. We will discuss certain matters regarding Akielos and Vere: trade routes, taxes, boring things as such. I want you to meet with him as well”, a lie, “to keep strengthening your relationship with Vere”, Jokaste’s words inevitably coming back to him. He would not allow Laurent to play his stupid little mind games, he was so tired of him domineering every single memory, every single moment, every single inch of his brain that he would not let it happen, whatever the cost. “It’s a long overdue meeting that will surely prove useful for all of us. Nothing else to worry about.

“And if you’re wondering”, Damen continued, “I have forgiven him for using the whip, just as he’s forgiven me for killing his brother”, he quoted the same words Laurent had once told Nikandros.

All praise the alliance, Laurent had said right after that.

What alliance?

“I remember Prince Torveld used to have a huge crush on him”, she said, smiling, as if she was sharing some private gossip with Damen.

Damen did everything within himself to not roll his eyes. He certainly remembered. He remembered vividly. That’s why he’s not invited to the wedding, Damen didn’t say. Torveld had once told him he never thought the day would come when he envied a slave, but it came.

If only he’d known what Damen’s life was like right now, would he still envy him?

“I’m glad you didn’t invite him”, she continued, “I don’t like him much, but hush”.

Damen tried to stop thinking about Laurent just for a moment and smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me”, he replied.

******

The night before Laurent’s arrival to Ios, Damen pushed himself to a new level of exertion while practicing sparring. He’d taken to do that more frequently than he would like to admit. For the past seven years, he’d had two options: bedding someone or trying not to dwell on the crushing, nagging feeling of loneliness, and when he didn’t feel like bedding anyone, which was more frequent than he’d like to admit, he’d taken to do the exact same thing he’d done after his fallout with Laurent while they were still in the camps: he’d practice sparring, and he would drive himself to exertion.

He supposed it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it was better than spending the night tossing and turning and not being able to think of anything but Ravenel. He’d discovered that when he was that exhausted, he didn’t dream at all, so it seemed like the best option.

The morning after, he was simply exhausted, and it was hot. So hot that his thoughts immediately went to how bad Laurent would endure it, he wasn’t used to these temperatures and he surely wouldn’t be happy about them.

Nik had pulled him aside and warned him yet again about how he should not trust Laurent, and how he should not let the former feelings resurface, and how all that mattered was to keep the treaty and keep forging the alliance and blah blah blah. Nothing Damen didn’t know already, nothing he hadn’t forced himself to understand over and over and over again during these past two weeks.

The council held one last meeting before Laurent’s arrival. Most of the council did not know Laurent personally, so Damen preferred to issue a fair warning to them. He said that yes, Laurent was not an easy person to deal with, but he was first and foremost a diplomat, and he would negotiate calmly, listen to reasons, and insist on fair terms -that was mostly true.

He insisted on the interest to keep Vere as an ally, a notion that was not so well received in the Council, who without even knowing the true motives behind Laurent’s visit, still raised the possibility of going to another war with Vere, considering that Akielos had a strong army that would withhold, in case it was not possible to renegotiate some aspects of the treaty.

When that notion was brought up, Damen couldn’t help but think about Auguste. And his determination, his strength, his skill, his intelligence. He couldn’t help but think about how he had cut through all of those, destroyed all of those with a swing of the sword, how he had ruined Auguste’s future and Laurent’s life. How he would regret that decision for the rest of his life. How it had repercussions on everything that had happened ever since. How Laurent had once told him, at the training arena, after a long sword battle, “he was everything I had”, and it had been so honest, so raw, so filled with anger and hatred and defeat that Damen felt like all the air had been knocked out of him. And Laurent was right in hating him.

So no. War had ruined Auguste, ruined Laurent, ruined Damen. There had been no winners out of that.

War with Vere would always be off the table. Regardless of any decision Laurent could make.

Without a clear plan, for Damen was still not sure what to expect from an encounter with Laurent of all people, the Council agreed on the terms that could be negotiated: trade routes, taxes, terms of peace and stability. All of them would be considered. The goal was to rescue the treaty, no matter the cost. His would be a kingdom of peace. And he knew, deep inside, Laurent wanted the same thing for Vere.

For regardless of the passage of time, there was one thing he was certain of: he might not know the Laurent who would step inside the palace at Ios in a couple of hours, but he did sure know the Laurent he used to stay up all night to strategize, the Laurent who risked his happiness, his tranquility, for the future of his kingdom, the Laurent who always, always put Vere first, just because he did not want any other person to lose their brother, their family, their betrotheds, for a stupid, senseless war.

Damen was certain that that Laurent was still somewhere within the Laurent he would face now.

And he trusted that Laurent. Trusted him with his life. He would always, always trust him.

*******

After what seemed like an eternity, they heard the hooves of the horses. Irina was right next to him and she held his hand and Damen felt once again as if he was cheating on Laurent, still a stupid thought to have, and he felt himself alight with anticipation, but so nervous he was almost trembling. He dragged a deep breath and braced himself for whatever was to come, which would certainly not be good.

There was this weird feeling he truly couldn’t put a name to, and it had been a long, long time since he last felt it. Seven years, he’d say. It was a bit heady, to say the least. Sometimes, the anticipation of danger was terrifying, knowing that something was about to come, and that the repercussions of it would be damaging somehow, that made him anxious and scared. Sometimes, the anticipation of danger was exciting, like a challenge that would have to be overcome, a new puzzle to face, something new to endure. He had felt that so many times with Laurent because he had that weird ability to make you feel like it was going to be okay, like he would find a way out, so any danger would be just another adventure, and then life would persist and it would be alright. Damen loved that feeling, and he’d only felt it by Laurent’s side.

What he felt right at that moment was a mix between those two. A conclusion to be drawn from that could be that, exciting or terrifying, what Damen felt was a sense of imminent danger that set all of his senses alight. And sometimes, thinking about seeing Laurent again, in Akielos of all places, was absolutely terrifying. Sometimes it was very exciting.

He dragged a deep breath and allowed himself a second of indulgence. His memory brought him back to a night, all those years ago, in which he had given Laurent a massage, back in those days prior to Ravenel, when frustration and expectation were mounting to become unbearable. He could no longer control his feelings, they were threatening to come out at any point, and he could ruin everything at any moment. He had fought so hard against them and he had lost.

‘Is it so difficult to relax?’ he had asked Laurent.

‘That’s enough’, Laurent had said, getting out of his grip and standing up.

Then Damen had reached out and touched the scar on his jaw. ‘The man who did this to you…’, he’d said with hatred, but then he recoiled when he realized Laurent had jumped out of his touch. He apologized for crossing that boundary. And just as he was about to leave the tent, Laurent stopped him and said some words that had itched themselves in his brain. He’d talked about Auguste, and he’d said: “You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that”.

He remembered the pressure in his chest. He remembered that he’d thought back then Laurent did not know yet the truth, and here he was, comparing Damen to the best man he had ever known.

“I will release you willingly. We can face each other as free men. Whatever is to fall out between us can do so then”, Laurent had said.

We can face each other as free men.

And so they would.

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, secretly wishing, stupidly, he could just go back in time and live again, over and over, those days that were filled with anticipation, stolen glances, an earned trust and the uncomfortable knowledge that he would give his life, his kingdom, he would give everything he could just for Laurent. Even when he was still his slave.

A moment later, the Veretian delegation arrived, with Laurent on tow.

Laurent.

Laurent who was now getting down from his horse and walking towards them.

Damen’s breath caught.

His changes had been so subtle that most people wouldn’t notice them. But Damen did. The last time they met, three years ago at a brief encounter in Delpha, Damen didn’t have time to examine him carefully, not really, or he chose not to, knowing how dangerous it was, it would always be. But as Laurent walked towards them, Damen allowed himself to stare at him openly and without reservations.

He looked more mature, more grown up, just slightly. But his beauty remained untouched.

Damen heard Nik cursing behind his back.

Laurent was in front of them now.

His Veretian clothes were in a pastel shade of blue that matched his eyes almost perfectly, embroidered in a shade of gold that matched his hair. Untouchable, unapproachable, uncomfortable, his clothes were the reflection of everything Laurent showed to the outside world. They looked as unbearable as ever, as regal, as perfect, as carefully laced as ever. He wondered if someone had attended him that morning.

He looked completely unaffected by the heat. His face was impassive, not revealing a single emotion, not even the ghost of it. He walked determinedly.

Standing in front of him, it was as if those seven years had never passed. If he allowed himself to indulge his imagination, they were standing one in front of the other after taking Ios, agreeing to hold the centre together, an alliance forged out of love rather than out of necessity. He could pretend his nightmares had finished when he claimed the kingdom, he could pretend gaining the kingdom hadn’t meant losing Laurent forever.

He could pretend there could have been a way forward for them.

He forced a smile and extended his hand.

Chapter 3

Notes:

I just want to take a minute to thank you all for your beautiful comments and reactions to this fic. I'm so glad you're enjoying it and I hope you keep doing so! Big hugs and thank you so much xx

“My brother of Akielos”, Laurent said with no real feeling behind it. His voice had changed just slightly. The changes were almost imperceptible. Not to Damen.

He looked tranquil and Damen envied his control so much.

But no, he didn’t. Because he knew just how he acted when that control started to slip away, how he lost all sense of reason, how he aimed to kill, to destroy.

Still, he would have given up the entire kingdom just to know what was going through Laurent’s mind at the moment. And he felt terrified at the realization it was not an exaggeration.

Irina tightened her hold on him and he realized with a start he hadn’t replied. And it had been a while.

He cleared his throat.

The forced smile remained fixed on his face.

“My brother of Vere”, Damen said, feeling the dagger twisting and burying itself on his chest. His shoulder ached. There, right next to where Auguste’s sword had left a permanent scar. And he tried to understand how a pain that was mental could feel so real it bordered on physical.

He swallowed.

Laurent shook his hand. A quick movement which Damen didn’t allow himself to dwell on. It didn’t matter anyway, for since the moment he had extended his hand, his attention had turned elsewhere.

To Irina, specifically. His eyes were unrelenting on her. She didn’t even flinch. She stared back with a smile.

“…And his fiancée”, Laurent said.

She smiled widely. “You grace us with your presence, King Laurent”.

Laurent nodded, then shook hands with all the delegates. Nik was one of the first in line. As soon as their eyes met, Laurent’s impassive posture turned mischievous. “Nikandros”, he said smugly.

“Your honor”, Nikandros said with a roll of his eyes. Damen stared daggers at him. Laurent’s smile widened.

“Good to see you again”.

“Always a pleasure”, Nik replied and Damen had to bite his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

After the protocolary greetings, they walked into the castle.

Damen, still with Irina next to him, said, “The palace at Ios welcomes you, and the kingdom salutes you”.

“Hm”, Laurent said, clearly uninterested in following along with the ruse. He looked around as he walked inside the palace, taking in the view. Damen remembered with a pang the grandeur and the ostentation of the palace at Arles. How he’d felt like all the excess would make him sick. About how he missed the white, ample walls, the breeze running through the arches, the smell of the sea.

About how he imagined, during those solitary days in the tents, how one day he would bring Laurent to the palace and give him a tour. How they would hold hands and smile and walk in heady by the high of victory, their victory.

He imagined the first time he showed him his room, how he would create a special garden just for him, how it would be a surprise, when he peeked from the window of Damen’s room. And then they would make love, for hours upon hours.

And in the seven years that had followed, he had allowed himself to believe that Laurent would have been very happy here.

And if he pretended for a second, just for a little while, as Laurent looked around the entrance hall, that time had not passed, then it was quite similar to what he had pictured all those years ago.

There it was again, the dagger.

The shoulder.

The ache.

The scar.

“Minimalistic”, was all Laurent said, looking not amused at all.

“You already knew that”, Damen replied without intending to. And Laurent frowned slightly. Damen wanted to kick himself for that.

That familiarity, the easiness between them did not exist.

They walked in silence as Laurent took everything in.

From the corner of his eye, Damen saw Jord following them closely, as if afraid of what would happen if he took his eyes off them. Damen turned to him and simply nodded in greeting. Jord nodded back. Not how he was supposed to behave in front of a royal, but Damen could let it slide.

He knew too much, after all.

They walked into the right wing of the palace, where Laurent’s rooms would be located. Damen knew he had to break the silence somehow because Laurent would not do it, he almost seemed to take pleasure on it. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

And that thought terrified him.

You’ve changed. He thought and then he would point out the exact things in which he had.

You look good.

You look tired.

I bet you like this place.

Why did you arrive six weeks before

What are you thinking

What did you feel when you received the invitation

Do you really care at all

Are you destroying the treaty

Do you know that you have me in your hands, you always have

Why did you come back

Do you want to torture me

Do you want to talk

Did you miss me

No. None of those would do.

“How was your trip, your honor?”, Irina said, gracefully.

Laurent sighed. “Long. But adequate”, he said, slowly, extending, savoring the word.

Damen blinked and stopped dead in his tracks.

Adequate adequate adequate adequate.

Fucking Laurent.

It had sounded so exquisite, back in Ravenel, right after he had come for the very first time in his hands. The taste of his lips still lingering in his mouth. The aching feeling of more, but knowing it would probably be the first and the last time.

It had been.

Now it sounded mocking, derisive, cold-hearted.

Twisting the dagger.

Irina turned to look at him with a frown.

Damen shook his head and started walking. Laurent hadn’t stopped, pretending he hadn’t noticed.

Adequate.

“Is this your first visit to Ios?”, Irina asked, still aiming for small talk. The walk towards Laurent’s chambers seemed endless.

Laurent sighed without even intending to hide it. “It is not. It is my first visit during the summer, however”.

“Yes, the heat can be abrasive, but it is beautiful nonetheless, the blue skies and the proximity to the sea make it quite well suited for the- oh, here we are”.

They had come to the big doors guarding their chambers. “I imagine you must be exhausted from the ride”, Damen said, forcing his brain to function somehow.

“I am not, but I welcome your hospitality, brother of Akielos”.

Damen sighed. “Tomorrow night we will hold dinner in your honor, as a celebration of this important event”.

“I feel honored”.

“You are expected tomorrow at the Council meeting so we can discuss the motives for your visit”.

Without intending to, Damen clenched his fist. Laurent, observant as he was, immediately noticed and smiled slightly. Damen could tell he loved getting on his nerves, but it was nothing new, he’d lived it before.

“Alright”, was all Laurent replied.

“We will meet you then. Rest, King Laurent”. He refused to call him ‘brother’ ever again.

Without even waiting for Irina, without even trying to hide it, without so much as a nod, Damen turned and walked away. He couldn’t stay for one more second, couldn’t bear it.

As the crowd dispersed, Damen simply said: “I’ll be in my chambers”.

Irina nodded as he left.

******

It was way past the evening and Damen was laying on bed, staring at the ceiling, just as he had for the last three hours.

A knock on his door. Damen stared at the closed door as if his gaze could make it burn. He didn’t want to be disturbed. He didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think, didn’t want to act. He wanted to run away or bury himself beneath the covers and never come out or something in between.

He felt exhausted and he knew he couldn’t attribute it to his extended sword practice the night before. Meeting Laurent again had been taxing in a way Damen hadn’t expected.

How could be tired of feeling?

All the things that were going on in his head were leaving far too many questions at their trace.

“Yes”, he said with a sigh.

The door opened and Nik walked in.

Damen rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear it”.

Nik laid next to him over the bed with a grunt. And stared at the ceiling as well. “You were terrible”, was his greeting. “And he looks just the same as he did the last time, but we already knew that. Should I be worried?”

Damen sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Nik. I truly don’t”.

“Fine”, Nik replied.

They stayed silent for a long while in which Nik didn’t even attempt to bring it up, and Damen was very grateful for that.

But after that time, the silence became unbearable. So he was the first one to break the silence. “He is going to fuck me over”, Damen said with all honesty, because he knew Nik was thinking the exact same thing and honestly, he couldn’t blame him.

“Yes, I can see that happening”.

“And he knows that. He has the upper hand here and he will use it to his advantage”.

“That won’t happen, though. That’s what you have us for. I know he will look at you and open his mouth and you will bend over for whatever bullshit he comes up with. But we will stop him. The council. So, rest assured, figure your shit out, finally get over him, go get married and fuck a lot, and it will be alright. That’s what I came here to say”.

Damen exhaled a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. It hurt to breathe. How was that even possible? He wished he could say it was a novel feeling, but actually it had been a persistent feeling, an unstoppable one at that.

He needed to stop being a fucking idiot. To stop feeling this, whatever the fuck this was.

For Nik was right. It was time to move on and perhaps this was his best chance, his only chance, to finally let go.

But to let go in the midst of a looming -perhaps? Maybe? Maybe not?- crisis with Vere in the horizon, six weeks before getting married, while facing the one person he had truly, really fallen for, the one person he would have risked everything, given up everything for, the only one, the only-

Yeah, that would not be simple.

But it was his one chance.

Time to let go.

“Thank you, Nik”, he said, and he meant it.

********

After that, everybody seemed to sense that Damen didn’t want to be disturbed, so nobody came into his room, which was most welcome for him, for he truly didn’t want to talk to anybody. He was aching to go and practice sparring, but he knew his body would object to that, and he had a long day ahead the next morning. Therefore he submerged himself once again on the treaty.

He wondered what on Earth could have possibly led Laurent to take such a decision, and to consider it important enough to step into Ios, despite everyone’s opposition. He wondered how Laurent managed to look so calm as he walked into a battlefield to announce a looming war.

The Council was still thankfully unfamiliar about that. They expected Laurent to come and discuss certain aspects of the treaty, but they did not question his loyalty to it. For all they knew, there was no reason to worry at all, perhaps they disagreed with having a Veretian walking into Akielos just like that -actually, it was pretty obvious from their reaction that that was the general feeling-, but it was scratched over like just another visit that was protocolary and perhaps even a proof of the strength of their alliance.

Up until that point, Damen hadn’t had any true reasons to doubt the alliance, for as much as they avoided each other, the relationships with Vere, especially in the frontier, were actually sailing rather smoothly. Their stabilization hadn’t been welcomed by most people from both kingdoms, but the progress that had been made during the last seven years proved to Vere and Akielos that it had been the right choice. Damen was actually handling kingship better than he had expected, for he had to admit that the many doubts and anxiety that had surrounded him during the first months of his reign had made it difficult. During those days, to abstain from contacting Laurent had been the hardest thing to do, for that closeness and that trust that had once allowed them to share their innermost thoughts, their deepest feelings, and to know they could confide in one another to give the proper advices and to keep the secrets, well, that was difficult to forget.

Nostalgia, he had come to understand, came in strange waves. Sometimes he just ached for the simplicity of one of their many talks in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling of the tent. And sometimes the painful realization that he would never, never again get that, those small minutes of trust, confidence, that friendship that had been built, that had started cautiously and then exploded with such sudden force and intensity they were rendered powerless to stop it, yes, that realization tore through his heart, aching more than anything physical and intimate that had developed between them.

Losing Laurent, he knew now, had meant much more than simply losing the opportunity of being with him. It had meant to lose a confidante, a friend, a safe place he had gotten accustomed to without even realizing it, therefore making it impossible to prepare himself for the absence of it.

And now he was just starting to come to terms that all these thoughts would be worse for the next six weeks, knowing that he was a couple of rooms away from Laurent himself, and yet unable to do anything about it.

With those thoughts on mind, exertion got the best of him and he fell asleep over the treaty, still sitting in front of his own desk.

No dreams of Ravenel that night, surprisingly.

Only darkness in the midst of a restless sleep.

And somehow, that was even worse.

*******

Damen woke up at dawn, and was unable to fall back to sleep, so he arrived way earlier than he was supposed to at the meeting room where they were to hold their first Council meeting with Laurent present.

He welcomed the silence that would expect him there. He needed a clear head, he needed to process things, to think for a little while, to give himself some time to be by himself before everyone else started advising him, he just needed to-

“Hello, former lover”, was his greeting as he opened the door.

Fuck.

Laurent was already in there. He was silently eyeing the portraits hanging from the wall, staring specifically at Theomedes’ portrait, examining it carefully, curiously.

Damen shut his eyes as he closed the door, giving himself a little extra seconds to gather strength. It felt like a battle, like a chess game, like they had to prove themselves the bigger man. It was a battle he was bound to lose and he knew it already.

He walked towards Laurent.

And there they were. Alone in a room for the first time in seven years. And Damen felt like there wasn’t enough air in there, because he couldn’t breathe. How could he? Laurent was there, right next to him. In Ios of all places.

He didn’t have the means to defend against it. Had never looked for them, because he didn’t think he would ever need them, not really.

Damen examined Theomedes’ portrait as well, silently.

He remembered the night he had found out his father had died. He remembered Laurent’s subtle gesture, his small offering of peace as he ordered the rest of the hall and the rooms cleared out.

Damen had expected him to pass by his room, to stop there for a second. There was nothing he wanted more than that.

Well, that was a lie, he would have liked to say goodbye to his father.

But that was impossible.

So he had stayed up all night, laying on bed, desperately wishing Laurent would enter his chambers, but also incredibly grateful for the fact that he wasn’t, because he knew that it would only add an extra charge to his convoluted brain. Because he knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself, he would have been vulnerable and sad and laid himself bare for Laurent to kiss him senseless, or destroy him, or both. Powerless and unwilling to stop him.

That night had been the definitive night. After that night, Damen didn’t attempt anything else with Laurent and Laurent never again had pointed that he would have wished for anything else with him. And once again, Damen couldn’t blame him. He remembered how that one and only night together at Ravenel, Laurent had struggled through an internal battle that Damen was unaware of at the moment, he was fighting through his hatred, through his rage, through the impulse to destroy the prince-killer.

Damen understood back then that he couldn’t put Laurent through that again.

“I believe congratulations are in order”, Laurent said, pulling him out of his reverie.

Congratulations? What for? What- oh.

Right.

Damen cleared his throat, his eyes not leaving his father’s portrait. “Only if you mean them”, he replied.

Laurent rose his eyebrows. “Well”, he said, his hands crossed behind his back, his posture regal and unmoving, “in that case…”

He stood silent.

Damen smirked at that.

“You should hire a better royal painter”, Laurent said simply and with ease, as if he wasn’t on the verge of declaring war to Akielos.

Damen was invaded by a sudden wave of rage that was surprisingly uncontainable. He had managed his emotions far better than this, but at that moment the pent up frustration he had been accumulating for the last day mounted and surpassed all logic. “Could you-”, he dragged a deep breath, trying to still himself, “cut it out with this bullshit?”

Laurent turned to look at Damen, clearly unaffected. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Are you going to keep pretending like you aren’t threatening Vere and Akielos’ peace? Like your own staying here isn’t a tug of war? Do you prefer to navigate through meaningless, stupid topics while I go through every single passage of the treaty in my head looking for the cause of such visceral reaction, is that what you fucking want? Because we don’t play your games in Akielos, you should know that upfront”.

The corners of Laurent’s lips rose, a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Always so abrasive, Damianos. Time has done nothing to appease that bad habit of yours”.

Damen exhaled and moved from where he was standing. He would not give Laurent the pleasure to see how anxious and on-edge he truly was.

Damen’s voice was low when he said, “I know it has been a while, but for old times’ sake, tell me what you really want, please”.

“I believe the herald told you-”

“He told me you want to end the treaty between Vere and Akielos!”

“So there’s your answer”, Laurent replied calmly, turning and fixing his eyes on Damen.

Damen nodded. “Your answer is war, then. That’s what you want. What the fuck, Laurent? Have you not lived with the consequences of war for enough time to-”.

“I have lived with the consequences of you killing my brother long enough, yes”.

“The Council doesn’t know. They can’t know”, Damen admitted, ignoring Laurent’s pointed remark. He didn’t want to be invaded by guilt, not at the moment.

“Because they’ll get scared?”, he retorted immediately.

“Because they’ll go to war!”, Damen warned, standing up once again. “They won’t doubt it for a second, they don’t appreciate Vere and have constantly opposed to the treaty, not to mention they are not very pleased to have you here. Do you truly believe they’ll nod along as you threaten our kingdom?”

“I know better than that. I know you, barbarians. I am simply considering the different possibilities”.

“You are declaring war, Laurent. And I won’t have it. I won’t accept it, and I know you don’t want that either”.

“You think you know me now?”, Laurent replied, defiantly. His facial expression had changed during the last minutes, from at ease and relaxed to serious, unmovable. Damen knew that expression, and knew it meant trouble. Knew it meant that Laurent was out to hurt, to push people’s boundaries, to make them regret defying their own authority. He had lost practice on how to handle this version of Laurent, it had been longer than seven years since he last had it directed at him and it hurt, but honestly he couldn’t even focus on the pain, for fury was blinding the rest of his feelings, absorbing them. He was absolutely fuming.

His voice was low and he aimed for a fake sense of calm when he replied: “I don’t pretend to. But I used to. And that Laurent would never-”

“That Laurent is not the Laurent you’re facing right now, Damianos. It has been seven years”.

“Seven years in which the treaty has proved to be fruitful, useful. Things are slowly working for the better between Vere and Akielos, something both you and I thought impossible all those years ago at Marlas and now-”.

“Don’t you dare bring up Marlas again”, Laurent said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Damen stood silent, nostrils widened, trying his best to contain his rage. He shook his head, laughed a humorless laughter of disbelief that contained the many feelings he had fought during the last 24 hours to hide from Laurent. Anger. Pain. Betrayal. Disappointment. Nostalgia. Aching.

Aching for so much.

Truth was, he’d thought for a very long time about the moment they would meet again. And never, not once, he’d imagined it would be like this.

Filled with hatred, with resentment, with unspoken words, unspoken feelings, most of them negative.

He hated everything about this and he wanted to do everything within his reach to make it different but it was so difficult when Laurent was being like this.

They both fell silent, breathing heavily, listening to the sounds of the footsteps approaching them as the Council was coming closer and closer to the room.

By the time the steps and the murmurs coming from outside had grown increasingly louder, Laurent had already schooled his expressions back to normal, relaxed and smug.

And just as they were about to walk in, Laurent approached Damen, and a couple of inches away from him for the very first time in all those years, he said: “Oh, I almost forgot, there you go. You can have it back”, as he handed a small package to Damen: a golden bracelet. Laurent’s. The sign of their alliance. Once the sign of their commitment to one another. The symbol of Damen’s past, of Damen’s feelings, the evidence that somehow, somewhere along the way, Laurent had felt them too. “Thought it was time to set you free now that you will attend to someone else’s wishes”.

Damen felt himself deflating as soon as the Council walked in.

Chapter 4

Notes:

The tags say 'slow burn' please be patient with me and with them, they're dealing with so much!!!
but also I hope you enjoy this slightly longer chapter ;)
Thank you sm for all your beautiful comments <3

The meeting with the Council went… not as terribly as Damen expected, at least. Actually, it seemed like the previous talk with Laurent had worked for something? For he had the most diplomatic attitude and did a great job at pretending that he wasn’t there to upset the Council and the kingdom, if anything, he said wonderful things about the treaty with Akielos, established his own groundwork and said there were some specific elements he wanted to debate about. The council seemed less cautelous than they looked by the time he had set foot on the palace at Ios, and Damen could even say Laurent had managed to charm them somehow.

Nik looked slightly surprised as well, but definitely wary, as if he couldn’t truly believe what Laurent was saying. After the meeting, that lasted about two hours, Laurent was the first to leave and the Council didn’t murmur behind his back which was a good sign. Nik and Damen stayed sitting though, absorbed in their thoughts.

“That was-”, Nik started.

“Yes. I’m as confused as you are”.

“He must have a plan, a carefully constructed plan”, Nik said, taking a seat next to Damen, who rubbed his face with his hands.

“I just-”, he sighed. “It used to be easy”.

Nik frowned, “What was?”

“Figuring out his intentions, or at least knowing when he had a plan, understanding his feelings”, he exhaled, “I can’t get rid of the feeling that now I’m facing a stranger and-…” I fucking hate that. “That can’t be good. For Akielos, I mean”, he added quickly, before Nik started pointing out how lovesick he was and blah blah blah.

Which was a stupid notion, absolutely stupid and pointless.

His thoughts wandered immediately to the little pouch that was in the inside pocket of his cloak, the golden bracelet. He felt the weight of it, its heat, as if it was burning right next to his chest, demanding to be felt, to be remembered.

Laurent had given up on them, and that bracelet was the symbol of it.

No, scratch that, he had given up a long time ago, long before they parted ways to become kings. This was just the final demonstration of it. This was just the evidence of the last thing that tied them together falling apart, crumbling. This was just a metaphor for the treaty. Laurent had come to Ios armed, with all the weapons ready to destroy Damen, and none of them able to inflict any physical violence, and yet, Damen would have preferred that, he would have, as opposed to these…mind games.

His own golden bracelet was still in the drawer at his bedside table.

He wanted to run away, he wanted to escape, to never come back, to be a stranger in a strange land and find someone else and fall in love and forget about all the scars Laurent had left within him. He wanted to pretend like his life was put-together, like it would be okay, he wanted to show himself stronger and happier than ever to Laurent, but one small gesture from him and he was back to picking up the ashes of his crumbling will.

“I’ll go check the kyros’ messages”, Nik broke the silence, and he seemed to understand somehow, how broken Damen was at the moment, how much he was struggling to breathe, to ignore the burning in his chest, for he didn’t know if it was burning on the inside or on the outside. As Nik left, Damen just stood there for some more minutes, thinking, trying to understand. Trying to make peace with it.

Day two and he was already falling apart.

How was he supposed to survive to six weeks of these mind games?

How was he supposed to get married facing the one, the only person he wished he could actually marry, knowing full well it was only doomed to fail?

He stood up and walked slowly out of the room, feeling exhausted even though it wasn’t even noon.

*********

Damen was about to go to the training arena to exert himself when he ran into Laurent- and Irina, walking together and talking, focused on one another.

He stood frozen in place, a frown in his face. “Those are my favorites”, Irina said, pointing at a corner in the gardens.

“Magnolias, I believe that’s how they’re called in Patras?”, Laurent asked, considering. She looked at him with surprise.

“Yes, that’s what we call them. The white magnolias signify purity and perfection. I like to keep them in my chambers so they can clean the air, and the bad energies. Believe me, there are plenty of those in Patras”.

“Vere is not so different”.

“Neither is Akielos”.

“They do not grow here”, Laurent replied, “In fact, they are very scarce in the region. These are actually the first ones I meet in person; I had only read about them. You truly have a treasure here, and very good taste”.

She lifted her head and her eyes met Damen’s, but Damen’s were only on Laurent, who seemed intent on figuring out the beauty and the symmetry of the flowers. He forced himself to look at her and produce a smile. She smiled back at him, unaware.

Laurent turned to look at Damen and nodded at Irina. “You have been very welcoming. I appreciate your tour through the Palace. But I have a dinner to get ready to. If you excuse me”, he said, “Damianos”, he acknowledged him as he passed him by.

Damen tried to focus on Irina, who immediately grabbed him by the elbow and locked his arm onto his as they started walking. “Enjoyed the tour?”, Damen said.

She looked a bit out of place, confused, a similar look on her face as Nikandros’ when the Council meeting ended. “Actually, I did. I found him wandering around the palace, looking rather bored, and decided it was better to show some hospitality, as it will be my duty as a queen, and your wife. He was talkative, seemed in a good mood. It’s strange, he was not at all like how I imagined, how I remembered”.

“Perhaps he’s changed”.

“Perhaps”.

Did he mention me at all? What did he tell you? Is he playing with your brain?

“He is, however, as witty as he proved himself to be when he arrived to Patras”, she added. “He seems to know a bit about everything, he understands how the world works. He is an important ally to keep”.

He cleared his throat. “Actually, the Council also seemed to be left with a good impression of him. They all looked just like you did as he walked away”.

She stopped and studied Damen for a moment, trying to read his mind. “And what about you? What’s your impression of him?”

That he came here to torture me and this is just part of his plan.

That he is the most fascinating man I’ve ever met.

That I hate him.

That he is still an equation I can’t solve. Now more than ever.

That seven years have passed by too fast and way too slow and I feel like I’m slowly losing my grip on the tiny pieces of knowledge, of memories, that we were left with, and I’m holding onto them with all my will, because if I lose them, I’ll lose it all just like the bracelet, just like-

“I can’t quite tell yet. He has been- diplomatic, that’s all.”

“You’re doubtful of his intentions”, she guessed -correctly, and sometimes Damen truly hated being so transparent about his feelings.

Damen looked around to see if anyone from the small Veretian delegation was around, but found the gardens empty. “I’m not making assumptions, but everything that involves Vere will always create some sort of suspicion in me. In all of Akielos, I suppose, just as Veretians for Akielons. It’s logical after all those years of hostility, but part of the treaty is learning how to trust, and I’m doing my utmost to trust him, Irina. Did he tell you anything about the treaty?”

“No. Why would he?”

“No reason, I was just curious”.

She kept eyeing him, but managed to read Damen’s expression and let it go. “I think it’s about time we get ready for dinner”.

Damen nodded, even though deep inside he just wanted to practice sparring and find an excuse afterwards to be absent from the dinner in honor of Laurent. It was going to be a long night.

********

“Always a good fit on you, the royal blue”, Jokaste said, examining him up and down. “Very… proper for the evening. You’re being very diplomatic about your wardrobe choices. That color matches the king’s eyes”.

Before he could turn and reply to her, Damen felt Egerius’ short arms surrounding him in a hug. Despite his anxiety, he smiled and crouched to hug him back and ask him about his day. The last couple of days he had been far too apart from Egerius, and it was therapeutic to spend some time with him, although they were more scarce the more he grew up.

“You look taller”, Damen noted.

“You saw me just three days ago, uncle”, Egerius replied, amused.

“Still, you grow up so fast”.

Egerius laughed and shook his head. After Damen was crowned king, he decided to keep Jokaste close to him, and that of course meant he had grown close with Egerius as well and spent lots of time trying to teach him how to spar, how to ride a horse and even how to read. Eg had asked Damen about his father a couple of times and Damen had told him about the man he had known before Damen had been shipped to Arles. Speaking in that way about Kastor had certainly taken a time of healing, and lots of grief for the man he thought his brother had been, but the process of grieving after someone had started long before Kastor had died. With Jokaste, things were far more complicated, he didn’t trust her at all, but he knew that keeping her apart would be worse, so instead of ostracizing her and live for the rest of his life with the fear she would somehow start a revolution in another kingdom or even threaten with taking the throne at Akielos, he opted for keeping a safe distance from her while keeping her close. That meant, pretending like he trusted her while spilling nothing away. Out of fear for Eg’s safety, she had remained loyal, or as loyal as she could manage to be.

“I see you like to take prisoners out for dinner, Damianos”, they heard a voice behind their backs.

Jokaste’s eyes lit up and a smirk crossed her face. Damen heard her murmur something like ‘this will be fun’ but couldn’t be quite certain.

She turned and inclined her head, an odd sight coming from her. “Your majesty”, she faced him once again, “I see time has not changed your looks”.

Laurent rose an eyebrow. “But it did change the status of your imprisonment, as I can see”.

“It has not. I’m still being held hostage within these walls”.

“Poor you”.

She murmured something in Eg’s ear and he bent down. “Your highness”.

Laurent looked at him fixedly and nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Egerius”, the young boy replied. “I’m named after my grandmother, from my father’s side”.

“However could I forget about Kastor?”, Laurent said, nonplussed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Egerius”.

“What about me? Aren’t you pleased to see me, your highness?”, Jokaste said.

Laurent simply fixed her with a dead gaze and chose to ignore her. He then looked at Damen, and perhaps time hadn’t changed absolutely everything, because it was clear when Damen stared into his eyes, that Laurent was angry. Very angry.

It was subtle. A small upturn of his lips, the slight narrowing of his eyes. Anyone would swear that Laurent was his usual, collected self, but Damen knew Laurent was fuming at the sight of Jokaste. Had it been seven years ago, he would have pulled him into a corner and try to talk him into reason, calm him down before any kind of offensive word could leave his mouth, but it was now, and that trust that once had been there was no longer.

But then Laurent did something he would not have done seven years ago.

He said, “excuse me”, and walked away.

Damen didn’t have enough time to conceal the look on his face. Laurent was never one to back off from a confrontation, especially one he knew he could win with someone that was somehow at his level of intellect. He could prepare all his range of insults, find the sore spots, and twist the dagger, make it hurt.

And yet, he chose to leave.

Since when did Laurent leave?

Jokaste kept examining Damen with an amused look on her face, but she chose not to say anything either. “Let’s go grab our seats, Eg”, she said holding Eg’s hand. “Good luck, Damen”.

Damen just stood still watching her retreating figure and trying to make sense of it all. A minute or so later, however, Irina appeared, regal and beautiful, a colorful dress that fitted her perfectly. “Hey”, she said informally, and he shook his thoughts away.

What a mess this all was. Having Jokaste and Laurent at the same place while Damen was getting married to someone else sounded like something that came out straight from his worst nightmare.

He sighed. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and they walked inside.

*******

Laurent sat next to Irina, and Damen couldn’t keep his eyes off them throughout the entire dinner. He was uncertain of what Laurent could tell her, after all he had all the tools to fuck everything up. He didn’t have an appetite, honestly he just wanted this whole evening to be over, and he wasn’t exactly certain if he wanted to revisit Ravenel that night, in all honesty, he really, really, was hoping he wouldn’t, because he just wanted to run away from all of this.

Most nights he wanted to escape his present by dreaming about the past. But now he just wanted to escape the present. Period.

Nik finally elbowed Damen, who fixed his eyes on him instead. “Everyone is noticing you’re staring at them, man, ahem- your highness”.

Damen exhaled. “What the fuck are they talking about? What if he tells her anything, fucks everything up? This afternoon, they took a walk through the palace and she seemed charmed by him. What if he came here to put my marriage in peril?”

For in all honesty, he wouldn’t exactly mind if Laurent put his marriage in peril if it meant that he would have a chance with him. But that was impossible. They were both rulers, their duty was first and foremost to their kingdoms, and they knew that quite well. And Laurent had made his position quite clear. So no, if Laurent put his marriage in danger, thus endangering his relationship with Patras, just for the sake of it, Damen would not have it. But what on earth could he do? How to stop him?

He wanted to hate him sometimes. He truly did.

Everything would be so simple.

Nik shrugged. “Just talk to her, try to find out what he tells her, I don’t see any other way”.

Damen felt really, really tired.

After dinner, the amenities arrived. Dancers and singers filled the palace, and everybody’s mood seemed to improve. As the first dance was about to begin, Irina stood up and walked towards Damen excitedly.

She liked to dance with him.

And he didn’t mind at all, under different circumstances. But how could he say no?

He held her hand and nodded, standing up. She had thought him a Patran traditional dance, in which they had to hold one another close, with twists and turns, marching to the rhythm of the music. Damen actually enjoyed dancing, and that was one of his favorite moments whenever they celebrated a special occasion, but that night… well…

The song started with a soft beat that seemed carefully crafted for the engaged couple, a romantic tune that Irina and Damen didn’t feel quite comfortable dancing to, but they realized all eyes were on them, so he held her close, and they started to dance very slowly, very close.

“I’ve never heard this one”, Damen murmured in her ear.

She shook her head, “I haven’t heard it in ages. I have to admit, we are both quite…rusty… dancing to it”.

“Which means we look terrible”.

“And everyone is staring at us”, she said helplessly.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he tried to pull her in for a turn, as she turned, her head moved to discover, at the distance, Laurent staring fixedly, unmoving, at them.

His face gave nothing away. Nothing. Damen tried for a couple of seconds to notice anything, but all his expressions were schooled to look nonchalant. And yet, he didn’t stop staring.

Damen lost the rhythm and Irina looked at him with an uneasy expression, but he just shook his head, “this one is too difficult, I’m trying hard”.

And she smiled.

And Laurent kept staring.

And staring.

And Damen was struggling to keep a hold on her and trying to figure out Laurent.

But then Irina said something or laughed in his ear and he had to pretend to be listening but how did he dare? What was he doing here dancing with someone else when Laurent was right there? When that night at Ravenel before their first kiss they had sung and laughed and smiled and then he had left and found Laurent at the top of the fortress and they had kissed. And now he was dancing with his fiancée and Laurent was staring at them from afar and it felt so wrong Damen wanted to crawl out of his skin.

The feeling that had become a constant in the last couple of weeks returned in full force, and Damen couldn’t help but feel like he was being unfaithful to Laurent somehow. He felt a knot on his throat and tried to swallow it away but he couldn’t, no matter what he did, he couldn’t.

The song seemed to last an eternity, but finally it ended. And Irina pressed a kiss on his cheek and Laurent was still looking and Damen forced a smile and Laurent was still looking and as they went back to their seats, he followed them with his gaze.

Damen couldn’t take it, but he certainly didn’t wish to sit there and have to make small talk with Laurent, so he stood up and started making the rounds and talking to the guests, ignoring Laurent, who seemed focused on talking to Jord at the moment.

He found Lazar standing next to the door.

Damen couldn’t help but smile. Lazar’s eyes were on Pallas, who was busy going about the room. “So, did you get to fuck him yet?”, Damen asked him, leaving all protocol and etiquette aside.

Lazar blinked. “Not yet, unfortunately”, he said distracted, and then kind of realized who he was talking to and frowned “…your highness”, he added.

Damen kept smiling despite himself. “You haven’t changed one bit, have you?”

“I remain as loyal, hardworking and trustworthy as I’ve ever been”.

Damen puffed and shook his head. “That’s not saying a lot”, he said, good-naturedly and joking, he couldn’t help it, Lazar’s expertise in thinking with his dick made him want to tease him endlessly.

Lazar smirked. “At least I might have a slight chance to fuck him, unlike other cases”, he said, walking away, “goodbye your honor, pleasure to see you all broad and tanned, as always”, he winked at him and walked away.

Damen laughed and shook his head, as he continued making the rounds.

After talking to Jord, Pallas and Makedon, who told him Laurent had brought him a bottle of griva and saying he should bring it out, but Damen telling him he preferred not but for a future occasion because this situation was difficult enough with Makedon sober, Damen looked around the room to find Laurent’s seat empty.

He looked around, but nowhere could he find that captivating, magnetic flash of gold anywhere.

Laurent had left without saying goodbye.

Damen released a breath he had been holding from the second he had walked into that room.

He slumped over a chair, a half empty glass of wine in his hand. He felt tired and sloppy and wine had a wonderful effect when he was in the mood, but when he wasn’t, it could definitely drag him down and make him feel hopeless and lost. He couldn’t help feeling that nasty feeling that told him the alcohol was taking effect but in the worst possible way. He stood up, fetched a glass of water and decided to walk into the open air so the breeze could sober him up, to breathe, to be alone with his feelings just for a while.

He left the main room onto the balcony.

Only to find Laurent staring out of it, his back turned to him.

Damen stood still. He hadn’t expected Laurent to be there. He did allow himself to stare freely at his regal figure. The black velvet of his garments fitted him perfectly. From behind, he looked so young, perhaps anyone who had passed by could have never guessed the King of Vere was right there, standing by himself.

“Are you going to keep staring all night, or…?”, Laurent said without turning to face Damen.

Blinking a couple of times, seduced by the sight, by the voice, by the aching memory of that one time they had stood, shoulder to shoulder at the terrace of the fort in Ravenel, he walked towards Laurent and stood next to him, leaning his elbows on the stone that outlined the balcony.

“Hey”, Damen said softly. He didn’t want to think about war, didn’t want to hate Laurent right now. He just wanted a couple of minutes to talk to the Laurent he’d known, for old times’ sake.

Laurent nodded but didn’t say anything back, he just kept staring at the view of the gardens.

They stood there, silent, for a couple of minutes. Damen knew he must have felt awkward, out of place, weird, standing next to him in silence, but it didn’t. Perhaps it was the wine, but he felt incredibly at ease.

Laurent was the one to break the silence. “You don’t keep slaves anymore”, he said quietly, sharply, an acute observation delivered stoically, if nothing else.

Damen turned to look at him. He felt himself sober up a little at the sight of Laurent of all people, right there next to him. “Servants. That’s what we call the people who aid us now. They have basic rights, and they don’t have ‘masters’. How could I come back to my own kingdom after being a slave myself and keep accepting it?”

“We heard the news in Vere, but I didn’t expect you would accomplish it”.

“Do you think me that incompetent?”

“I think the Akielons are that much barbarians”.

“It was an uphill battle”, he said with all honesty, and it wasn’t anything that someone who would pay attention to the last couple of years in Akielos wouldn’t tell Laurent. “We had isolated uprisings, especially at the border. Many people saw it as a sign we would merge with Vere. The protests kept going for months, but-”

“But?”

“-But the landowners found out they are a very small fraction of the population, and the then slaves were a big one. And suddenly they understood: perhaps they might not have, by decree, the right to a name or basic living conditions, but they could lead the revolution should they wish to. Once they understood that, it was easy. I suppose it did help that I was open and honest with my own experience”.

“So you shared all the details with your court?”

“Not all the details”. I didn’t tell them about the lashing, he didn’t say. “But yes. I never attempted to conceal it. It was part of my life. A traumatic one at that, but a part of my life nonetheless”.

He regretted those words as soon as they left his mouth. Damn the wine.

Laurent, surprisingly, let it go, not fixating on it much. He nodded and stood silent.

“How do you find Akielos?”, Damen asked him.

“A hellhole, like seven years ago. Not much has changed, still looks like Vere but with less places to take a bath”.

Damen smiled even though he tried to control it, but it seemed like at that time of the night, ‘control’ was way past himself. Damn the wine.

He chose to remain silent, because he wasn’t certain of what he could say. It was odd, he realized, to stand next to the person you’d spent so many seconds minutes hours days months, and have nothing to talk about, for that person you once knew deeply, whose secrets, feelings and worries were crystal clear for you, that person who at one time had been a huge part of your entire universe, was now a stranger. He didn’t know what to ask because his blueprint was the Laurent he’d met all those years ago. The one he’d fallen in love with. This Laurent… he still didn’t know anything else about him, just that he was aiming for war. Did he have someone? Did he hate Akielos?

Did he hate Damen?

Damen had to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking that question. He knew it wouldn’t be well received.

“Are you seeing someone?”, Damen asked instead.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

He shouldn’t have asked that. He shouldn’t have, why did he? But at the moment it  seemed like the right thing to ask, the one thing he wanted to know the most.

Laurent finally turned to look at him and examined him with a raised eyebrow, his face giving nothing away. Damen wished he could say the same thing about himself but honestly he didn’t know what his face was saying, probably everything he was desperately trying to hide, and yet he felt defenseless, powerless to stop it.

They stared at each other for a while, silently.

Finally, Laurent replied: “No”.

Damen nodded, fighting against the urge to sigh in relief.

Laurent was the one to break the silence. “She doesn’t strike me as your type”.

Damen frowned. “Huh?”

“Irina. She’s too brunette, her eyes too dark for your liking. Whatever happened?”

“Perhaps I realized it was time to move on from the blond, blue-eyed prototype, for every time I caved to it, I lost”.

Laurent turned to fix his blue eyes on him, cold and unrelenting. “I see”, he started. He dragged a deep breath and his gaze turned murderous. “Perhaps the problem is not them. Perhaps the problem is you trusting people far too quickly and far too easily. Look where that led you to”.

“To your chambers. And your confidences”, Damen replied immediately, not even allowing himself to feel hurt or stabbed by Laurent’s words.

Laurent blinked, taken aback for a second. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting that response, but he managed to conceal his expression just as fast as it had changed.

Damen continued. “To the throne. To long-lasting peace. Perhaps trusting has its benefits. It brought me to you, once”.

Laurent, who so far had been leaning against the balcony, stood straight and crossed his arms, not taking his eyes off Damen. “Actually, it brought you to me twice, now. And look at where we are right now. Perhaps trusting might not be the right choice, after all”.

He didn’t wait for Damen’s reply. He turned his back on him and started walking back into the dining hall. “Enjoy the rest of the party. Goodnight”.

And with that, he left.

Damen did not enjoy the rest of the party.

Chapter 5

Notes:

*Sighs*... I'm sorry this one took me a while to update, October has been a very, very busy month and I barely have time to do anything else than fall in bed exhausted. However I will of course continue updating this month, perhaps not as frequently as I would wish, but as soon as this month is over I will be back on tracks and giving your well-needed weekly dose of angst ;)

Big squishy hugs and thank you so much for your support!

The next morning was a rainy day in Akielos, and even though Damen appreciated the fact it meant it would be less warm, he couldn’t help but feel like the cloudy, foggy, gray skies, and the piercing, scorching storm was a perfect match for his own mood. He didn’t feel like doing much that day, his energy was non-existent and his mind didn’t want to think for the day, but that was a privilege a king could not afford, and he’d been aware of that ever since he overtook the responsibility that came with becoming a heir to the throne. It didn’t help, of course, that he still felt the effects a hungover with wine brought.

In fact, the day was exactly the opposite of what he’d wished he could have done.

First, a council meeting in the morning. And the impression Laurent had left on them suddenly vanished, if Makedon’s response to the request to lift taxes on silk imports from Akielos to Vere was anything to go by. It was a tense meeting in which Laurent was serious and relentless. Damen proposed a new strategy: a partial reduction of tax obligations that would be re-evaluated within the next three years to see if it had worked as a stimulus for salesmen. Laurent argued for a bigger reduction, and in the end, he got his way. The meeting had been tense, convoluted. Damen felt tired by the time he was about to leave.

Laurent stood still, unmoving in front of the table, reading carefully the new addendum they had just signed. “It’s more than you should have expected”, was all Damen told him.

“I could have gotten more. I just didn’t want to spur them into a violent war so suddenly”, was all Laurent replied.

“So you are stalling the war”.

“I am merely laying the groundwork”.

He didn’t have time to retort back, and honestly he didn’t want to think about it, so he simply sighed and left.

Next, one of his favorite meetings: one by one, he heard peasant’s needs and tried to help them as best as he could. He enjoyed that one connection to the real world, it was useful to understand what life was like beyond the palace walls, to understand what the communities needed, how he could be a better ruler for Akielos.

That day, he did not enjoy it. He was aware his mind was somewhere else entirely and he wanted to stop it but he couldn’t help it. He went through it as if repeating a mantra that becomes senseless after pronouncing it too many times. He nodded along and pretended everything was fine.

Then, wedding planning with Irina. And everything that came with it: thinking about dinners in honor of Patran delegates, dinners in honor of the Vaskians, a joint event with the representatives of the former Artesian Empire, a symbolic ritual before the wedding…

It all made him sick to his stomach.

And perhaps affected by the long day and the tense meeting, he wondered if within six weeks he’d be married or fighting a battle and seeing people dying in front of his eyes.

In moments like those, he truly wanted to hate Laurent.

He knew they needed to have a proper conversation, but he didn’t feel ready yet. He knew he would snap, perhaps say something he shouldn’t say, perhaps aim to make Laurent hurt as much as he was hurting, perhaps risk everything because he couldn’t put his feelings on hold.  It would have to wait, but it would have to be fast.

He was very much on edge by the time they were finished, and as he stood to leave as fast as he could, he felt a hand on his elbow grabbing him quickly and stopping him. “Wait, wait!”.

He turned to find Irina eyeing him suspiciously. “What is wrong with you?”, she asked in a serious note, the most serious her voice tone had been since they met and reluctantly agreed on the engagement.

“Nothing”.

“Bullshit”.

“I’m fine, I swear. It’s just been a long day, that’s all”.

“It’s been very long days, then, because you have been sulking for a while already. Listen, if you have doubts about this, just say them aloud. I’ll probably agree with you, but we both know this has a strategic importance, so I would like to know upfront to know how to handle it, but honestly this intrigue is getting annoying”.

Damen ruffled his own hair. If only it were so simple. “I am not having doubts about this”. And he didn’t, not really. He knew it was just another one of his duties as a king, just another thing he’d agreed upon when he became a Crown Prince.

A kingdom, or this, he’d once asked himself.

A kingdom, was the choice bestowed upon him.

He would have chosen the other option, back then.

Not now.

A kingdom, he repeated in his head, reassuring himself.

“Then what is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong”.

“Is Vere’s presence here wrong?”, she retorted back.

“Anything that involves Vere is wrong!”, he snapped.

“I thought you were friends”.

I thought so too.

He collapsed back into the chair. “Relationships are tense between Vere and Akielos right now”.

Her face darkened, her expression subtly changing from slightly concerned to certainly worried in a matter of seconds. “Why?”, she murmured, as if wary someone could hear them even though they were completely alone in the room.

I don’t know. He won’t tell me.

“It was bound to happen”, he lied, “it was only a matter of years. Instability is the rule, rather than the exception, between both kingdoms”.

She nodded. “Is that what King Laurent came here for? To warn you?”

To threaten me, he thought. He nodded instead. “We are trying to find solutions, but it’s not going to be easy. The reason I’m telling you this, Irina, is because I trust you, I do. And because I need your word that Patras will remain as our ally in any case”.

“You know it will. I mean, as long as this”, she pointed between them, “remains, it will be alright. They know they can’t defy the kingdom their family has married into”.

Jokaste’s voice came to his mind. Perhaps Laurent was here to ruin the wedding, after all, perhaps he had a carefully constructed plan, a method, to ruin everything between Patras and Akielos. Damen had thought that Laurent had arrived fully armored, equipped with his giant, conniving mind. Perhaps the war had already started, and the palace at Ios was just the scenery of a cold war that at any moment might heat up.

Perhaps he knew that Damen would take the leap, just as he’d take the fall, for him.

Perhaps that was exactly what he needed. Perhaps that was the key to ruin Akielos: make the king self-destroy its own kingdom.

He could not fall.

Not again.

A kingdom or this?

A kingdom.

A kingdom or happiness?

A kingdom.

A kingdom or him?

Him.

A kingdom.

It hurt to breathe.

One thing was to revisit the past, another one completely is to be forced to relive the past that might as well destroy your present.

They both hurt in their own way.

“Perhaps we could move forward with the wedding?”, Irina said after a couple silent minutes.

No.

“No. The invitations have already been sent. We’re mere weeks away. It will be alright”.

“And in those weeks in between?”

“Nothing changes. You remain your charming self with the Veretian delegation while I pretend everything is fine, alright?”.

“You’ve sucked at that”, she smirked.

“I’ll give it a try, then”.

******

Sparring.

Sparring would do him good, would clear his mind.

He wanted desperately for his muscles to ache, to ache so much his mind would be forced to focus solely on it and ignore everything else.

“Are you seeing someone?” What the hell was he thinking when he’d asked that question? What was wrong with him?

He supposed he expected the truth.

And he wasn’t entirely certain if he’d received it, because that answer was exactly what Laurent would say on any case and Damen didn’t want to think about it, he chose to stay with that one answer , with that ‘No’, because even considering the possibility that he would one day receive the invitation to Laurent’s wedding ceremony…

Well, he would probably die.

He indulged his imagination once again, wondering what it would have been like if Laurent had felt the exact same thing when he got the invitation to Damen’s wedding. What thought crossed his mind? He was probably surprised, but Damen was certain that those feelings he would feel had it been the other way around, Laurent felt none of them.

He was angry.

He grabbed the sword and started moving around, practicing every single move. Every time he swung, it felt like he was letting a part of his anger out with it, he was fierce and feral in a way he hadn’t been before. It was only a matter of minutes before he had to take off his shirt because he was drenched in sweat. He wanted it to hurt.

Someone cleared his throat behind him.

Damen stopped dead and dropped his sword. Slowly, very slowly, he turned around. He knew already, just from the sound he’d made, he knew. How on Earth did he still know? It had been so long… and yet.

Laurent was staring at him, his arms crossed. His eyes followed the movement the sword made as it hit the ground. He didn’t look amused.

“So you’re still practicing”, he noted.

“I’ve never stopped”.

“Neither have I”.

“Yes, I can tell”.

“How?”

Damen took a couple of wary steps forward, like a prey approaching the lion.

“Your back is slightly broader, your arms as well”.

“You’ve taken your time examining me, then”.

“Not really. It was very noticeable. Perhaps not for everyone, but for me, it was”.

“Hm”.

“You look… more mature”.

“Like a king?”

“No, you’ve always looked like that, in my eyes, the intimidating stare and the ruthlessness that made you fit for a king, those haven’t changed one bit”.

“Good”.

“Good”.

“So, are you going to fight or what?”, Laurent said, breaking the eye contact and walking towards the place where the swords were held.

“What?”

“I’m waiting”.

“That’s not how you’re supposed to challenge the king to a duel”.

“I am a king as well. Rules don’t apply”.

“Then I refuse your non-proposed challenge”.

“And if I propose it?”

“I’ll still refuse”.

“Afraid that I’ll beat you and ruin your pride?”

“Afraid that I’ll kill you”. And honestly, that was the absolute truth. At the moment, he was so angry at Laurent and he still couldn’t understand why. He could excuse it on his problems with the treaty, but in all honesty, that wasn’t it, if anything, it was the tip of the iceberg, a worrisome one, but just one of them. If he was honest, perhaps he’d been angry to Laurent for the last seven years, and he had refused to acknowledge it until they met again.

But angry at what?

At the fact you didn’t fight for this.

Well, he could be mad at himself for that as well.

Was he?

Laurent smiled widely, but it was a cold smile, conniving. “You think too highly of yourself if you think that’s a possibility”.

“And you underestimate me, but you always have”.

“I didn’t, once”.

Damen sighed. To fight or to walk away. He wished he would just turn his back and leave, not follow along with Laurent’s ruse.

And yet…

He was dying to do it.

He sighed and caved to it, half hating himself for doing it, half loving it. He picked up his sword and nodded.

Laurent’s smile got wider.

As soon as the practice started, it didn’t feel like a practice at all. It actually felt like they were dueling to death, like someone would probably hurt the other irreparably, this time physically rather than mentally. It was fast-paced, something Damen was used to, but never like this. It was intense from the get-go, and Laurent didn’t stop, didn’t quell, didn’t show he was intimidated at any moment. Damen responded with the same urgency and speed, coming up with new movements to try and make Laurent lose his balance, find his weak spot.

Two minutes in and he hadn’t found one.

He had trained. But so had Damen.

Laurent’s face remained focused, serious, as if this was a task he had to accomplish by whatever means possible.

They ran around the field, swords clashing, unstopping.

To any new tactic Damen employed, Laurent had a response, and Damen had to admit he was slightly shocked at that. He remembered his first practices with Laurent and they were completely different from this.

They had been on it for a very long time, neither showing any sign of exertion yet, despite the fact they were both panting and sweating, but they could both go on for hours and they knew it.

Damen looked around and realized they were still alone, and he felt a slight comfort at that, for he could pretend like it was a long time ago. They could be themselves, whatever that was.

To every deceit Laurent did, Damen had a response, and Laurent smiled, slightly. He had come up with some of those scenarios before. A couple of times, he had to readjust to the situation, but he managed to keep his ground. Laurent was relentless.

Except that-

Damen noticed, as he looked down, that Laurent put just a little bit more of weight on his left ankle, just a little bit.

They continued for a couple more of minutes, and finally, silently, Damen decided to attack, and went for the other ankle.

Laurent lost his balance and fell to the ground, but just as he was, he kicked Damen on the shin, and caught unaware, he fell on top of him. Laurent started squirming, trying to break himself free, but Damen reacted quicker and placed the sword over his neck, so Laurent had to stay very still. They both looked angry and exasperated, both panting hard. Damen didn’t move at all, his legs still by Laurent’s sides.

Except that, as soon as Laurent’s eyes fixed on him, suddenly all the rage he had been channeling through his sword came with such intensity it rendered him powerless to respond to it.

“What are -you doing here?”, Damen asked through his panting, “Did you come here - to torture me?”.

“I just wanted to practice”, Laurent replied, beneath him, breathing hard.

“That’s not what I meant!!!!”, Damen said. “I mean, why? Why six weeks earlier, what are you doing here? Did you want to tear me down to pieces in any way possible? Did you think you could do it in Ios of all places?”, he exclaimed, almost yelling.

“Well, since you invited in so nicely…”, Laurent said, nonplussed.

 “To the wedding, not to ruin the treaty!”

“Well it seemed like the only option since it was impossible to get to you. You claim over and over that maintaining good relationships with Vere is a priority to your kingdom, and yet you do nothing to take care of them!”

“Because it has been going well! Anything else I might do I was afraid I might ruin it.  I’m always walking on thin ice with you and your kingdom, Laurent”.

“Well, I refused to come here as a fucking prop. As a fucking trophy, as if I had nothing better to do rather than to show my face and pretend that everything was okay while you were getting married to someone else”.

Wait.

Damen’s brain took a while to react.

He stayed silent, still.

Laurent had grown quiet, completely quiet beneath him.

“What did you just say?”, Damen whispered.

“Get off me”, Laurent replied, fiercely.

“Yield”.

“I won’t”.

“Then I won’t let you go”.

Laurent looked at the razor-sharp blade of the sword, he stared at it, still panting, Damen unmoving, still over him.

Was he reading too much into it?

He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“Yield”, he repeated.

Laurent kicked the place he had kicked Damen in before, right at the shin, and despite the pain, Damen stayed unmoving, somehow expecting something like that would happen.

Laurent finally sighed. “I yield”, he whispered.

“What?”

“I fucking YIELD!”, Laurent screamed loudly on his ear and Damen moved up quickly.

Laurent grabbed his sword, and as if he was preparing himself for another combat, he stood up and they both stared at one another across the room, still panting loudly.

“You put less weight on your right ankle, that gave you away”, Damen murmured.

“I don’t need your advice”.

“You still need practice”.

Laurent’s gaze turned murderous.

Damen threw his sword to the ground. “What happened to your ankle?”

“Nothing you should concern yourself with”.

“I-”, Damen sighed, scratched his head and tried to put his thoughts in order. “Vere and Akielos’ relationship is a priority to me, Laurent, I don’t know what made you think otherwise, but it is not the truth. Um-”, he cleared his throat, “the invitation was simply a method to showcase our strong alliance, I- I, didn’t expect you to accept it, lest of all to come here six weeks before”.

Laurent huffed. “A method to showcase our strong alliance”.

“I consider Vere a friend”.

“I consider Akielos a danger”.

“I would never hold your kingdom as an enemy. And even if that was the case, I would never do anything to defeat it. I, I know what you’ve struggled to rise to the throne. I would never endanger that”.

Laurent was staring daggers at him. Damen couldn’t understand, he simply couldn’t. What the hell was he so angry about? What was wrong? Did the Council, the Kyros do something without his knowledge? Where did it all go wrong? He was certain everything was alright.

Or well, as alright as they could be, he supposed.

“What changed?”, Damen whispered. “What happened?”

And he wasn’t entirely certain if he was referring to seven years ago or to now. He wasn’t entirely certain if he was asking that to Laurent or if he was questioning himself. The anger was no longer there, and even if it was, it seemed like it was weaker than Laurent’s.

All of this, the bracelet, the treaty, this very moment reflected a deep-rooted anger that Damen could not pinpoint: perhaps Laurent still couldn’t find it in himself to forgive Damen for Auguste? Was that it? Because if it was, there was nothing he could do. If it was there would be no way out. It had been too long and they were coming back to where they started.

He heard, rather than saw, Laurent’s sword hitting the ground with a clank.

A second later, he felt Laurent bumping his shoulder into him and walking past him, without a reply.

Damen sighed and sat on the floor, staring at the two swords on the ground.

Slowly, he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and started cleaning Laurent’s sword, polishing it. Just in case he would need it, use it again.

He touched its tilt, still warm from Laurent’s hand. And held onto that warmth. The only sign of it coming from Laurent, the only part of him that wasn’t freezing cold.

Chapter 6

Notes:

I'm back!!!... thank you so much for your patience and your support towards this little one! Hopefully now we can go back to the weekly update schedule... ;)

Hope you enjoy this chapter! x

Eg didn’t want to do his homework. And even though Nik couldn’t care less, he would tell Jokaste, or probably Damen -he still hated Jokaste-, if he wasn’t so completely fazed by the fact that the reason why he didn’t want to do his homework was because he was too busy examining the types of flowers in the gardens with… wait for it… Laurent.

Nik stared at them from afar, a puzzled look on his face. As soon as he’d seen them, his first reaction was to be wary but not to give himself away. He was way too curious to find out what they were actually talking about, so he stood behind one of the palace’s columns and listened to them.

“So that’s why it looks like it’s sleeping?”, Eg asked, staring closely at one of the petals, or as close as he could be, for they were slightly away from anyone’s reach. They were both crouching in the ground, Laurent’s fastidious outfit not touching the grass, of course, merely levitating above it.  The garden was empty, except for them.

“Yes, it will bloom at night. I would invite you to see it, but I suppose you might get in trouble for skipping your bedtime”.

Eg smiled. “What are they called?”

“Moonflowers. And before you ask, no, you can’t touch them. They are poisonous if you touch them, so do be careful”.

“Do you have one of those in your castle?”, Eg asked.

Laurent’s expression grew grim. “No”, was all he replied.

“Where is Vere? Uncle Damen talks about it always but it sounds so far away…”, said Eg, looking slightly embarrassed.

Laurent replied softly. “Have you been to Delpha?”, he asked, using the Akielon expression, rather than the Veretian.

Eg shook his head.

“It’s quite beautiful. You should visit someday. Anyway, it’s right next to it. Two weeks travel maximum. Vere is…slightly different than Akielos. We do things in different ways”.

“Which one do you choose?”

Nik huffed.

Laurent seemed to think about it for a couple of seconds, deep in thought, apparently, before replying: “Both. Each one has its beauty. Akielos has beautiful oceans and landscapes. Vere looks beautiful in the winter”.

“I haven’t seen snow. Mom has told me about it, says it’s so pretty, so white”.

Laurent nodded. “It is. You can come to Vere one of those winters. You’ll be a honorary guest in our palace”.

Eg cheered up. “Yes! We can bring Damen as well!”.

“We’ll see”, was all Laurent replied.

“How long have you been a king for?”

“Seven years”.

“Just like my age!”

Laurent nodded.

“Do you like it?”

Laurent thought carefully his reply. “It has its ups and downs. But you can work for a better society, you can do something to make people happier, healthier, so that makes up for everything else. It’s an honor and a compromise”.

Eg frowned and looked slightly confused at Laurent’s phrasing, taking his time to understand what he meant. A minute later, he asked out of nowhere: “Have you seen the sea these days?”

“I arrived by sea, but that was it, why?”

“By the end of the summer, it looks more beautiful than ever, the water looks crystal clear, and if you look far away, it looks like it has seven different colors on it, it’s my favorite time of the year”.

“Hm. I think I have never really, truly appreciated the ocean”, Laurent said, pensively.

“I love going to the beach and having fun there. Damen taught me how to swim, and sometimes we try to build the palace with sand. But we are not very good with that”.

Laurent laughed.

“Maybe you can come with us one of these days. Uncle Damen has been busy but he always takes time to go to the beach with me”.

Laurent stood up with a sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing your homework?”

Eg scratched the back of his head. “I still have time”.

“The sun will set soon, you should better get to work”.

Eg groaned. “Can’t I wait until the Moonflower blooms?”

“How about the next time we hold a grand dinner in the dining hall, I’ll call you when I see the first petals blooming”.

Eg smiled excitedly and nodded up and down.

“But- only if you go and do your homework now”.

“Fine”, Eg said, standing up as well and nodding at Laurent, “thank you for teaching me about flowers, King Laurent”, and he crouched in respect.

Laurent shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t crouch in front of me. Right now we’re both learning about flowers, so we’re equals”.

Eg smiled and nodded, walking away.

Nik followed him with his sight, unable to wipe the confused expression off his face. Just as he was about to turn to leave, he found Laurent right behind him, and he jumped. “Lords!”, he exclaimed with a gasp.

Laurent had changed his slightly, just slightly, warmer expression for his usual cold and detached one, an eyebrow raised, he looked Nik up and down in disdain, as if he was a cockroach to be stepped on. “If you’re as bad at the rest of your duties as you are at spying, I am truly wondering if the only way you’ve advanced in life is because you’re a friend of the king. And I do worry about the kind of advisors Damianos has. No wonder we’re about to head to war”.

Nik glared at him. “I was merely passing by, your highness”.

“Yes, ten minutes ago. You don’t think I heard your gigantic, heavy footsteps approaching? Did you seriously think you could be stealthy?”

“And if you knew you were being observed, why were you acting like a human being, then? We both know that is not what you are”.

Laurent looked amused now. “What am I, then?”

“A snake”.

“Hm, didn’t know your friend had a taste for reptiles”.

“It has changed, evolved and improved with time, as you can see”.

Laurent’s mouth did a grimace that seemed to convey he didn’t exactly agree with Nikandros’ statement, but he said nothing else, he kept his arms crossed and walked away slowly, turning his back immediately on Nik, who stood still right there, questioning what the hell he had just seen, and silently thanking the heavens for the fact he had been the one to see Laurent and Eg talking and not Damen, because-

Well, because that would have definitely made getting over the snake a much more difficult task for Damen.

 *********

As the end of the summer approached, Damen was hit more and more with a wave of anxiety he seemed forced to endure by himself, because, well… because no one else would understand.

Irina was living the same marriage-induced anxiety, but she didn’t know about Laurent.

Nik was living the same maybe-war-induced anxiety, but he didn’t have to endure the torture of having his former…something there.

And Laurent, well.

He was indecipherable as ever.

He had not been, once, but that had been a long time ago. And his dreams had only gotten more frequent, except this time they mingled with new memories, and now Ravenel wasn’t just Ravenel.

It was Ravenel mixed with Ios mixed with Council meetings and with soft strands of golden hair and with sword practices and with loud breathing, increasing panting and yearning and something akin to hatred but not quite and sometimes his shoulder ached and sometimes it was his back and sometimes it was his heart, and sometimes he couldn’t even tell what was that hurt so much but it did somewhere in his body or in his mind or somewhere.

“Fucking Laurent”, Damen murmured to himself.

 

As he walked through the palace, he reached the dining hall and looked up to find the crew around the palace rushing in, moving up and down. They were getting ready for the dinner of the end of the summer, which was to take place on Saturday, two days hence.

On his hand, he held the treaty and kept walking.

He reached Laurent’s rooms. The doors were closed and it was quiet, but Damen was pretty certain he was there. Laurent’s presence had become odd. He couldn’t say he had grown accustomed to it, it wasn’t that, but rather he now knew how to not be taken aback about the fact that he was there.

The first couple of days had been difficult, for his brain wasn’t still quite trained to respond to it, and suddenly, like a wave, his heart rushed and the hair at the end of his arms stood up and he felt chills running down his spine and it had been seven fucking years how was it still possible to feel this for someone he didn’t know anymore?

He walked past the room and kept walking on.

He stopped in front of Jord’s doors and knocked uncertainly.

Jord opened a second later, staring at Damen quizzically.

“Good to see you again, Jord”, Damen said as a greeting.

“What are you doing here?”, he asked suspiciously. “…Your highness?”

“May I come in?”

“Must you?”

Damen rose an eyebrow, and Jord sighed, opening the door wider and allowing him in.

As soon as Damen walked in, he looked around, he had to admit he was curious as to the state of Jord’s chambers.

In fact, he hadn’t unpacked. At all.

The room was as if he hadn’t lived in it for the last week. The bed tidy and nicely done, everything else cleared out except for a couple of papers and a feather on the desk. Apart from that, his bags were still piled up at a corner. So was he expecting to leave unprompted at any moment?

Damen sat by the desk. “I simply feel like we hadn’t had the chance for a proper talk since your arrival”.

 

“I don’t know if we should have a conversation at all”, was Jord’s response, simple and straight to the point.

“How’s Vere doing?”, Damen asked, ignoring his question. He didn’t know how to approach the subject of the treaty, for he didn’t know if Laurent had talked about it with anyone else.

“Ask Laurent”, was Jord’s reply.

“That isn’t the manner to talk to a royal, Jord, you must know better than that”.

“Ask Laurent, Exalted”.

Damen tsked and shook his head. He would go nowhere with him but he had to give it a try. “Why are you here?”

“Well you must know by now-”

“No. I know why Laurent is here. What I don’t understand is what you’re doing here. You’ve only attended his private briefings, you don’t address the Council and you simply stand aside and observe. You might as well might have stayed in Vere and done more”.

“I am doing what my King asks from me. I advise and support. And yet I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this since it’s none of your business”.

“If it concerns my kingdom then it is my business, Jord!”, Damen said, starting to get riled up.

Jord crossed his arms and sighed, looking like he’d given in. He sat over the bed and said: “I do mean it. Talk to him. There’s not much I can tell you, for I know perhaps as much as you do. Even less”.

“How can you not know what he wants?”

“Did we ever?”, Jord asked.

“Once”.

“Are you certain?”

“No. He kept overturning our plans”.

“Exactly”.

“All I can say is: the welfare of both kingdoms is in our intentions”.

“I am finding that hard to believe”.

“You will have to trust”.

“I’m not certain I can”.

Jord smiled. Now that Damen looked at him and could study him for a little while, he looked certainly more mature. He didn’t look like the kind of idiot who would fall for nice looks and ruin everything, as he almost had once. Not that Damen could blame him, they had both lived the same thing at the same time. Curiosity got the best of Damen and he couldn’t help but ask: “So, did you find someone else? After Aimeric, I mean”.

Jord sighed and looked away, not facing Damen. “It doesn’t concern you”.

“I’ll take it as a no”.

Jord smirked. “You know? Before finding out about the wedding invitation, I would have assumed the same thing about you”.

Damen cleared his throat. A lie. “It was time to move on”.

“Took you long enough”.

When he spoke again, Damen’s voice was incredibly low, as if afraid someone might hear them through the walls. “What about Laurent?”, he murmured.

“How am I to know? He remains as much of a mystery as ever”.

Damen didn’t believe him, but was silently thankful for his loyalty to Laurent. He deserved someone he could confide in, despite everything, and he knew Jord was that person, even after the whole thing with Aimeric. He had just been an idiot in love. Damen couldn’t blame him for that.

“As if you would tell me if you knew”.

“I would. Just to see your reaction”.

What was his when he got the invitation? He didn’t ask.

Damen rubbed his eyes, a bit exasperated. “I’ve already told Laurent this, but I want to make it clear for everybody: I would do nothing to harm Vere. And I’ll never do it. I just need you to know that. We didn’t live through all of these things just so I could destroy you when I was in power. I would never do that and I’ve spent these seven years proving that to you”.

“Hm”.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“An alliance between Akielos and Patras cannot be beneficial for Vere. Surely you must know that as well”.

“It’s just a marriage, Jord”.

“It’s an offense to Vere… and to King Laurent, in every single way. Perhaps that is why he chose to come here and set things straight”.

“It’s an offense to him because it’s Patras? Or because it’s not him?”

“Do you think he’s simply waiting around, wondering when you’ll bed him again?”, Jord said, looking offended.

“That’s not what I meant”.

“That’s what you implied”.

“I simply wondered-”.

“This conversation is over, your highness. I do not believe there’s anything else for us to talk about”, Jord said, standing up.

“I tell you when the fucking conversation is over, Jord! I am the King!”.

Jord remained still and unperturbed.

Damen took a minute to collect himself and simply nodded. “Fine. We’ll get nowhere right now, either way”.

“Finally, something we can agree on”.

With that Damen, opened the door and left, feeling still rather angry.

 

*******

That weekend, that officially marked the end of the Summer, they held a special ceremony, a tradition in Akielos which was always led by the King, and this time, for the first time for Damen, with his wife-to-be. The fete was celebrated all along Akielos, and therefore, from the early morning, thousands of people started gathering outside the Palace’s fortress, just to catch a glimpse of the King and his fiancée.

He didn’t feel in a celebratory mood at all. But he sat and planned with Irina what they would say, how they would dress, what they would do as they addressed the public.

They were to be dressed in golden.

By the time they had to stand in the balcony and speak, they both were wearing a red cloak with a golden chiton. 

She had a tiara and she looked beautiful. He smiled as soon as he saw her and kissed her cheek. “You look great. Chitons suit you”.

She patted him on the shoulder. “I feel like I’m half naked. I hate it. I can’t wait for Winter so I don’t have to wear this for official events”.

“Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know, Damen, it’s weird. This makes everything so… official…”.

“It has been official, for a while, actually. Are you having second thoughts?”.

“This is like the third time we’ve both asked each other that much. Is that supposed to be a sign?”

Damen shook his head. “I don’t think so”.

Irina replied: “I’m not having second thoughts. I knew what I was agreeing to. It’s alright”.

Below the balcony, by the gardens, there was a big table in which the Council, and the visitors from Vere would be seated. They were already waiting. The day was sunny and warm and from his window Damen could catch a glimpse of Laurent’s attire.

From head to toe, Veretian clothes.

He admired Laurent’s self-control.

So they stepped into the balcony and they heard the crowd outside the fortress yelling loudly and cheering with excitement. This was also the first time Damen would announce publicly his engagement. The Council was looking forward to that moment.

Damen wasn’t.

He looked down and saw the entire table turning to look at them as well, waiting for his speech.

He nodded, held Irina’s hand, and started speaking, doing his best to ignore everyone’s prying eyes.

He talked about the advances throughout the last year, how Akielos had changed and improved, how trade had brought new benefits, how the end of slavery had strengthened relationships with partner kingdoms, how living conditions had improved, how peace remained long-lasting and fruitful.

He didn’t speak about Vere. He had chosen not to.

By the end of his speech, he turned to look at Irina, who gave him a reassuring nod, and he announced their engagement to the large crowd, whose cheers only grew louder and more excited.

He sighed in relief and refused to look down at the Council and the Veretians.

He announced the date for the wedding ceremony. Five weeks from then.

And then he knew quite well what they had to do, so he approached Irina and kissed her, in front of the thousands of people who kept cheering with excitement.

They both smiled awkwardly at one another, knowing quite well that all the eyes were on them.

As soon as they separated, Damen couldn’t help but look down and fully intending it, but also against his will, his eyes almost immediately found Laurent’s.

His face was unreadable, as always, an unsolvable equation he couldn’t completely grasp. But his eyes were fixed on Damen. And Damen couldn’t help but stare back, attracted immediately to the deep blue of those eyes, unable to look away. He still felt the kiss lingering on his lips, and it felt so wrong.

He swallowed. He knew his face was giving everything away at that moment, but he didn’t care. He clenched his jaw and allowed himself for a single second, to show a bit of the regret and the pain he was feeling at the moment.

But as he laid himself open and bare for Laurent to see, Laurent chose to look away and focus on the table in front of him.

The crowd was already dispersing and thus he was no longer the center of attention, which was most welcome, for he needed a couple of minutes to collect himself.

He entered the room. Irina had walked in already and was going towards the big table, as he was supposed to as well. Instead, he leaned against the wall and took deep breaths.

As soon as he closed his eyes, all he saw was blue.

The blue of the sky. The blue of the ocean. The blue of the last lingering days of Summer.

The blue of Laurent’s eyes.

He pulled himself off the wall and walked towards the gardens, feeling somehow like he was trapped in a labyrinth he couldn’t get out of.

As soon as he got to the garden, he felt claps on his shoulder, the Council and the guests congratulating him as he nodded absentmindedly. His eyes eventually landed on Laurent who simply stared back at him.

As Damen approached him, all Laurent said was: “Congratulations”, and he walked away.

And somehow, Damen felt that with just that one word, he had been stabbed with a dagger.

Only if you mean them. Damen had told him when they talked again for the first time, a week ago. And Laurent hadn’t replied.

Now he said it and he meant them.

And he supposed, that was his one sign to let go.

Laurent had done so a long time ago either way.

Notes:

I KNOW I KNOW this seems awful and you want to hate me and hate them!!! I get it, but I PROMISE it will get better!!! Soon...ish... I mean, how out of character would it be if they didn't miscommunicate and misunderstand each other all the time? ;) and let's be honest, we wouldn't love them as much if they weren't such idiots.

Anyway, I'll be back next week with a new update! Thanks for your love and support, big hugs!

Chapter 7

Notes:

oh my god i'm so excited for this chapter i haven't even proof-read it, i'm sorry but you deserve to have this little one right now!! Thank you for all your love and enjoy! <3

“Stop sulking”, Nik scolded him.

“I am not sulking”.

Nik rose an eyebrow. “You are supposed to be the happiest man on the Kingdom right now, and you look like you’ve been stomped by a horse”.

“I’m alright”.

“Then school your features to prove it”.

“I’m trying”.

“I can’t tell. You look awful”.

“Would you stop it, Nik? I’m really not in the mood to argue, I’m not in the mood to smile. I’m just not the in the mood for once to pretend like everything is perfect! I don’t fucking want to!”, he said, getting angrier by the minute.

He had been on edge the whole afternoon.

It shouldn’t have affected him this much. Not after seven years. He shouldn’t be feeling like- like this.

Like there was a hole in his chest that was reopening over and over, and well, like something within him genuinely hurt. Like, physically hurt.

When he had been younger, there had been a time when he’d felt something similar. He’d been riding his fastest horse -he’d inherited it from Kastor-, and he took it for a ride. And he got lost. And that horse was, indeed, fast. For a moment, he’d felt like the he was riding Pegasus himself, like there had come a moment when they’d stopped touching the ground and they were flying and he was going nowhere, and he was lost, and he couldn’t be more excited. Somewhere inside his body, he’d felt a sense of emptiness he’d never felt before, it was a weird sensation, one he didn’t know whether he enjoyed or not.

But he decided, a minute later, that he did.

It had been a long time since he’d last felt it.

He’d felt something similar to it when he found out his father had died. But he had been preparing himself for that, and the grief came as the conclusion of something he had expected, but wanted to avoid at all costs.

The element of surprise, of suddenness, wasn’t there.

The aching was.

Then, Kastor.

No, back then, he’d grieved the person he’d once known. It was a sense of nostalgia for past times, but that was it. The memories were so tainted by the last events that he couldn’t separate one from the other.

This was-

Something else.

The element of surprise was unexpectedly there.

Which was idiotic. He’d gotten used to the idea he’d lost Laurent from the second he’d realized he’d lost him.

The aching was also there.

The nostalgia was there. The nostalgia that brought him back to the conversations under the soft glow of the fire lamp that spread through the tents they’d shared. The soft breathing of Laurent when he was fast asleep. The color of his hair when the first rays of sunlight touched it.

The smiles. The anger. The tension. The knowledge of that magnetic force that pulled them towards one another.

Everything.

How was it possible to feel everything he’d somehow managed to get over once?

Why did it come back?

Did it really leave? Ever?

Did he really get over it? Or did he just get used to live with it?

Perhaps he’d imagined that somehow, somewhen, during those seven years, the thread that once had pulled one to the other, had been broken.

But perhaps the reality was other. Perhaps that thread was slowly wearing down, and yet it still existed. And now, the time had finally come to tear it apart.

Perhaps something had always kept the flame alive.

Perhaps he should have realized somewhere along the way it was time to blow it off.

Perhaps he had never intended to do so. For if he did, what did he have left?

He sighed and sat on the couch. Nik had pulled him apart just before the official dinner to talk to him. They were alone, and so Damen allowed himself to show just a fraction of what he was feeling.

Nik sat next to him. He didn’t look surprised, not really.

“How am I supposed to act when it’s hurting to breathe? How am I supposed to swallow down the anger and the regret and pretend like everything is fine?”

Nik’s voice was softer. “It’s just one more of your duties as a royal. Do it just as well as you do the others”.

“Fuck being a royal”.

Nik smirked.

“The worst part of it all, is that while I’m here trying to force a smile, Laurent just walks around as unreadable as always. His gaze ice cold, his posture ice cold, his smile ice cold. He’s even perfected it. I can’t understand how he does it, but then, I never could”.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but perhaps, you could be a little bit more like him, just for tonight?”

“How am I supposed to be more like him when he’s the one I’m trying to get over?”

Nik shrugged. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I’ll say it either way: it’s been seven fucking years, Damen, seven years in which you’ve been absolutely miserable. You are the King of Akielos, for lords’s sake, you can have anyone”.

“But him”.

“But the King of Vere. Our enemy nation. Yes. But the man who strapped you into a post and flogged you till you almost bled to your death”.

I killed what he loved the most.

Damen rubbed his face with his hands. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Get through tonight. And then tomorrow it will still hurt. But then, perhaps by the time you’re getting married, it will hurt less. And then you’ll realize that perhaps that feeling you’ve kept buried is now unburied, and it doesn’t kill you anymore”.

Nik was right.

Seven years he’d spent burying this. And it always found a way out, through his dreams, through unbidden memories, through feelings of aching he managed to swallow down and walk away from.

But it was time to face it. And let go.

Damen nodded and dragged a deep breath. He was overcome with a feeling of gratitude towards Nik, so sudden and so profound, it made him forget for a second how miserable he felt. He placed a hand on his shoulder and walked back into the grand room.

******

After dinner, Irina and him had to dance together through the applause and the cheers of the crowd. And Damen realized it was better to take it one minute at a time. Each thing was a chore for him to cross off the list. Soon enough, hopefully, the night would be over, and that would be it.

1. Smile
2. Thank everyone for their support through the speech
3. Ignore Laurent
4. Eat
5. Dance with Irina
6. Ignore Laurent
7. Drink a glass of wine
8. Hold a couple of meaningless conversations
9. Act like Laurent
10. Don’t look for Laurent
11. Don’t talk to Laurent
12. Go to sleep

He didn’t turn to look for Laurent as he danced with Irina. He could count that as a victory on itself.

After that, the “party” began. The musicians started playing more upbeat melodies, and people dispersed, to dance, to chat, to drink. Damen sat at his chair and eyed the glass of wine in front of him.

Irina elbowed him. “I’m exhausted”.

“So am I”.

“Yes, you look like it”.

“I’m sorry, today I haven’t been feeling well”.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just… tired”.

“Do you think we can escape early for tonight? Avoid this useless, boring, annoying chatter?”

Don’t look for Laurent

He looked around but couldn’t find him.

So technically, he hadn’t been looking for him. He’d just been scanning the room.

And fuck it, he was the king. If he wanted to leave, he could fucking leave.

He nodded, and she didn’t need to reconfirm. She immediately stood up and walked away, trying to be as stealthy as possible, looking around comically. Damen looked at her fondly and for the first time in the night smiled.

Damen walked her to her room, which was right next to his. As they stopped in front of the door, she stared at him and intertwined their fingers. Damen allowed it. “I’m very proud of you. You were very good today”.

He smiled weakly. “You did a good job as well, pretending to be happy”.

“I am happy, Damen. Perhaps I’m not completely fulfilled, I don’t think I’ll ever be. But you’re a wonderful man, a wonderful king, and a wonderful human being. Anyone would kill for the privilege of calling themselves your partner. It’s an honor for me. I need you to understand that”.

Damen nodded. “I’m lucky it’s you as well. You’re smart and gracious, and you’ll be a wonderful queen”.

She winked at him and placed a kiss on his cheek, touching his jaw softly. “Thank you. I’ll try to live up to the expectations”.

“You’ll do”.

She smiled at him and waved him goodnight.

He waved back and as soon as she closed the door, he felt a huge weight lifting off his shoulders. Finally, the acting was over for the night.

He massaged his back a little bit, feeling the wave of relief hitting him suddenly, when the quiet of this wing of the palace, brought back a familiar voice coming from the end of the hallway.

Eg.

He frowned and walked towards it. He could hear Eg’s voice clearly, but couldn’t quite know who he was talking to, for he hadn’t stopped talking about his biology lessons.

“And I told her I didn’t understand why she didn’t allow me to explore the gardens by myself yet. She said I had to understand the theory behind each kind of flower and then I could go out and see them, it’s so unfair”.

“It’s really not. You almost ate one of these. You could have been poisoned”.

Damen stopped dead in his tracks. And certainly enough, as soon as he turned the corner, he found Laurent and Eg examining one of the flowers in the garden, that was crawling through one of the walls of the Palace. They were both absorbed in their conversation. Eg then pointed at the white flowers and asked Laurent a couple of questions.

Yes, Laurent said, they will hide as soon as the first rays of sunlight would appear. No, they do not emanate that lemony smell during the day. Yes, they cause indigestion if you eat them. Yes, they grow quite easily, which is why they are beautiful yet dangerous.

Damen stared at them, enraptured, not quite believing what he was seeing.

And yet, he felt like he was invading something private, a conversation that was only meant between Laurent and Eg. But he wanted to stay there forever. And savor it. And store it in his memory, so he could go back to it every now and then.

He decided the least he could do was to pretend like he wasn’t there at all. It was Laurent, probably he’d known from the very moment he’d put a foot inside the gardens who was ‘spying’ on them.

He cleared his throat lowly.

“Uncle Damen!!!!”, Eg said excitedly as he ran towards him and crashed against him to hug him.

Laurent stared at him for a couple of seconds, his gaze unmoving, but as usual, giving nothing away. Damen hugged Eg back and fixed his eyes on Laurent, nodding at him.

“King Laurent is teaching me about…”, he thought for a moment, “moonflowers!”

“What did I tell you about calling me King Laurent?”, Laurent replied. “We’re both learning about flowers, so we’re both equals”.

“You know more than me”.

“Well, I’m older”.

Damen was absolutely certain he had a stupidly fond expression on his face and he didn’t even try for a second to hide it.

He…

There was a lot to unpack there.

“And what did you learn, Eg?”

“That I’m not supposed to eat them”.

“And?”, Laurent added, scolding him.

“And that you should have the moonflowers on the floor trimmed. They are poisonous!”

“What?”, Damen asked in surprise. Eg nodded, looking just as surprised as Damen was.

Laurent looked nonplussed. “I don’t know whatever made you think having one of those was a good idea at all, but who am I to question your choices, Damianos?”

Damen shrugged. “They looked pretty. It was impossible not to fall for their charm”.

Laurent looked at him for a moment. “Not a first for you”.

“Precisely. And they turned out to be poisonous”.

“Perhaps they’re prophetic”.

“Or just a bad choice on my behalf”.

“Probably”.

Eg looked between them, not quite following their conversation. Damen shook his head to clear it and bent down to sit next to Eg. “So, what other flowers would you like to learn about?”

“Sunflowers!”, Eg said excitedly. He then fixed his eyes on the sunflowers that were standing at the corner, which were already closed off for the day, he then turned to Damianos and pointed at him. “…They remind me of you”.

And then he pointed at the moonflowers.

Then at Laurent. “And those remind me of you”.

Damen looked at Laurent. Yes. Eg wasn’t so far off actually, the moonflowers were just as dangerous as Laurent himself.

“And what flower do I remind you of?”, they heard from behind.

Damen peeked at Laurent rolling his eyes just before he turned to the look at the source of the sound. “A poison ivy”, was Laurent’s response.

Damen elbowed him softly, something he did almost automatically, without even thinking, perhaps he shouldn’t have done that, but Laurent returned it earnest and Lords he truly wanted to kill him.

“What’s that?”, Eg asked.

Jokaste threw Laurent a murderous look before glancing back at Eg. “It’s nothing, right King Laurent?”

Laurent fought against the urge to roll his eyes again as he simply said, “Right. I was just joking”.

“I think you’re a rose”, Eg replied in earnest.

She smiled at him. “I think you are a daisy”.

“They are so pretty!”, Eg said excitedly and crushed her into a hug.

Damen wanted to burst with how warm and nice he felt. He smiled. For the very first time in what felt like a long time but it probably shouldn’t have been too much. He wondered how Laurent managed to spend so long without smiling, must be exhausting, but it made it all the more valuable whenever he smiled. And when he laughed, that bubbly laughter that made him immediately look younger, the way his entire body seemed to laugh along with him, all of it vibrating with an energy that threatened to capture you, enrapture you and swallow you whole. It had been seven years and yet that memory always came unbidden. As they hid behind the balcony, trying to hide, and Laurent burst in laughter in his arms.

Wow. Not a good path to go through at the moment.

He came back to reality.

Jokaste then looked a little bit more serious. “But Eg, it’s past your bedtime”.

“I was watching the moonflowers bloom!”

“I know, but now you have to go to bed”.

“But I don’t have to study tomorrow!”

“I don’t care. You need to sleep and honestly so do I”.

He scowled. She smiled at him and bent down to whisper in his ear, but actually she spoke just as always: “I stole the chocolate cake they had left, now we better hurry to our room before they find out”.

He perked up and jumped. “Goodbye, uncle! Goodbye erm-”

Laurent cleared his throat.

“-Laurent!”, Eg said, skipping the ‘King’.

Jokaste waved at them and they walked off.

And then they were alone.

And Damen was giddy with tenderness and he knew it was absolutely pointless to try and hide it. He was too far gone, had been for a very long time.

More than seven years, to be exact.

Laurent’s eyes remained fixed on the moonflowers.

Damen knew Laurent wouldn’t be the one to speak up first, so he chose to speak instead. There was no way he was letting this moment go to waste. “I didn’t take you as a flower expert”.

“I didn’t take you as a flower idiot. Why did you have those flowers in the floor? He could have been poisoned had I not walked in! I don’t expect much from Akielons and yet you always manage to disappoint me. Don’t you have one advisor with a little bit of piece of mind to actually advise you against it? Is that why you keep making such bad choices?” He sounded angry.

Damen didn’t take the bait. He shrugged. “I will have them removed tomorrow”.

Laurent seemed to calm down with that and stared back at the wall again.

A second later, very, very low, he said. “He reminds me of…”, he started seemingly without thinking and stopped himself immediately.

Damen knew it just as quickly as Laurent had started saying it. “I know”, he whispered, so very softly.

Laurent stood straight and crossed his arms. His posture, which had relaxed just slightly, was back to being tense, unmoving. “I wasn’t supposed to say that”, Laurent admitted.

“It’s only me”, Damen replied, helplessly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s the problem”, Laurent replied.

Damen was hit by a wave of memories of all the things they’d lived. Things only the two of them knew, only the two of them had experienced. It was a treasure he wanted to hold onto forever. Because he knew, deep inside, that up until then no one had been that close to Laurent. And how much they were missing.

“He’s a happy kid”, Damen felt the need to say.

Laurent nodded. “I can tell”.

Damen rubbed the back of his neck, he wanted to extend this conversation as much as he could, even though he knew he had walked into it with a expiration date already tattooed on it. “Thank you”, he said softly, “for teaching him. He likes you. He doesn’t trust that easily and yet-”.

He made himself shut up.

Laurent nodded. “You’re welcome. He deserves a happy life. Even though his mom is a whore and his father a traitor”.

Oh, and Laurent was back.

Damen squeezed his eyes shut and dragged a deep breath. He wouldn’t take the bait. He wouldn’t.

After a minute, he replied. “He does. And we’re doing everything we can to make sure that’s the way it is”.

“We?”, Laurent asked, curiously. “Did you fall for her charms again?”

“I won’t make that mistake twice”.

Laurent smiled mischievously. “But you did make it. Twice”.

“This”, he pointed between them, “was never a mistake”.

“I beg to differ”, was all Laurent replied.

And Damen felt it like a kick in the stomach. And yet, he’d grown accustomed to know this side of Laurent, and not let it hurt, for that was all it wanted. He swallowed and nodded. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I will never be sorry about that night”.

“And you expect that to make me feel better?”

“I’m just telling you the truth. I’m not trying to make you feel better. That is not my responsibility. The only thing I can do is be honest with you, and you can do with that what you will”.

“An absolutely pointless piece of information but thank you”.

Damen sighed and stared at the wall, at the exact same point where Laurent was looking at. “I will never forget that night”, he whispered.

“Neither will I. But for completely different reasons”.

“Back then I thought- I…” stop.

Don’t talk to Laurent, his checklist said. And he’d already fucked up. Badly.

He didn’t stop. Couldn’t if he wanted to. He didn’t want to. “I’d get another chance. Or at least a chance to talk to you. Honestly. You deserved that much. You deserved so much”.

Laurent’s face, that was impassive until then, contorted in a slight expression that for many people would be unnoticeable. Not for Damen though. He was angry.

Damen continued. “-But you can’t deny that we both made that choice, that night at Ravenel. Because I leaned in to kiss you and you kissed me back. And you sent me to your rooms. And asked me to enjoy it. And you told me we still had that night. We both knew. We both knew as we looked at each other. We both knew”.

“Knew what?”

“What we didn’t dare say aloud. What we were too scared to admit”.

“That I was bedding my brother’s killer?”

“No. That you were falling for him”.

 

Laurent clenched his jaw.

Damen had taken him aback.

He wanted to rejoice on it. But honestly, all he was doing was aching. Everywhere, it was a kind of pain that simply seemed to spread all over his body.

It was okay, he reminded himself. He’d grown used to it.

“It wasn’t a mistake because we both allowed ourselves to speak out what we wouldn’t say out loud. And regardless of whatever that has happened ever since, we had that night and that morning. And I will always be thankful for it”.

Stop talking.

He finally listened to his mental checklist and forced himself to stop.

It was oddly quiet. Laurent’s face impassive.

“They’re really beautiful”, Damen said, still whispering. “…The moonflowers”, he added.

Then he turned to stare at Laurent, to take him in with his pale skin and his bright blue eyes and his blond hair. He wanted to drown. He wanted to make so many mistakes and to never look back, to never regret them, for they wouldn’t be mistakes.

But if they put his kingdom in danger, well, that was a whole different story.

It was a mistake. And one he wouldn’t make, and one he couldn’t make.

Stop talking. Stop looking for Laurent.

Go to sleep.

Dream of Ravenel.

“Good night”, he whispered, leaning in just a little bit closer, for a small fraction of a second, just to feel a tiny tinge of warmth, to remind himself it was real. And he walked off.

“Good night”, he heard back as he turned his back.

Chapter 8

Notes:

I'm so sorry for being so absent... I hit a writer's block coupled with mental exhaustion, which was definitely not a good mix, but we're back with a longer-than-usual chapter!! and I hope you enjoy! next chapter will be up next week, and hopefully updates will be more regular from now on! I wish you a happy and beautiful 2023, filled with wonderful things for all of you. Thank you for sticking up with this little one. Big hugs!! <3

“It’s warm here”.

“Not as much as Ios. It’s why my grandfather chose this place to build the Palace”.

Laurent stared through the balcony and smiled. A smile that seemed so genuine, so reserved to Damen, that he couldn’t help but smile back. Those kind of smiles were rare, and precious. And the most beautiful sight Damen had ever seen. 

“The gardens”, Damen said, pointing at the long expanse of lavender, sunflowers and daisies, “are designed like a labyrinth. When I was a little kid, I used to come here and get lost for hours. I would rip some petals and leave them as a trace so I would know the route I took. Once I got lost and walked for… a lot of hours, I suppose. I got terrified and started screaming for help but no one would listen. The exit was actually very close and I was being very dramatic”.

Laurent broke in laughter. 

He looked ethereal. 

The sunlight reflected on the back of his head, projecting directly onto the golden of his hair. As if the sun was looking directly for him, as if the ice prince needed the sunlight to shine. As if the sun needed the ice prince to shine. 

Damen took a step towards Laurent and reached forward to touch his hair. He felt the soft strands, allowed himself to examine them closely. 

Laurent stared deep into his eyes. Fixedly, unmoving. 

Damen leant forward to kiss him, like he’d ached to do from the moment they had stepped into The Summer Palace. Laurent moved towards him, so close it felt like he wanted to merge into him. And then, they kissed, deeply, openly, without restrains, only having the lavenders, the sunflowers and the daisies as witnesses. 

Damen had never felt happier. 

****

His head was aching. A lot. 

He had not drunk much the night before, so he assumed it was from the dream.

Actually, he was certain it was from the dream. 

He had woken up with a big smile on his face, thinking that if he reached out, he could touch the grass from the Summer Palace, smell the scent of the sea and listen to the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs. 

It had been one of those dreams.

One of those in which it felt so real he could touch, he could hear, he could smell, he could see. 

His sight was clouded by the vision of the Laurent from the dream and his golden, shiny hair.

He had once considered it. The Summer Palace. 

Laurent would have liked it. He could have rested. He could have taken the sun, taken long walks, smell the flowers, get lost in the labyrinth, he could have spent hours upon hours staring at the beautiful landscape, he could have thrown himself from the cliff and swim into the sea, he could have taken some books from the library at the palace, he could have sat in the sand and read with only the sound from the waves around him. 

Damen would have been happy.

He would have kissed him senselessly and spend every single second he could get the chance getting to know every little detail from him, and they could lay face to face talking into the night about their dreams and their desires. 

He could have told him. 

He knew what Laurent’s reply would be. That was why he never even tried to broach the subject.

After all was said and done, nothing was left. 

He buried himself into the pillows, feeling the headache intensifying, heavy with memories and regrets and so much pain. 

After all was said and done.

Seven years ago, a bell had rung announcing the new king of Akielos. And Laurent had dragged an unconscious Damen into the infirmary of the palace, or so he had gathered after he had woken up, a couple of days later. 

He had woken up to an empty bedroom, dead silent. 

Some minutes later, Paschal had walked in and filled him in on the details.

Damen didn’t care about the details. 

He knew his brother had stabbed him. He knew he had been a trusting idiot. He knew he had needed stitches. He knew it had been a deep wound, he could feel it. The pain was blinding for moments. 

He didn’t care. He’d survive. That was all he needed to know. 

He knew Laurent had killed Kastor. 

He knew Laurent had saved him. 

He did not know where Laurent was. He did not know if he was alright. 

And that was the central piece of information he needed. 

And so, with all the strength he could muster, he asked Paschal, a breathless, dry, helpless, “Laurent?”

Paschal nodded, he didn’t look surprised, not really. As if he’d been expecting it. 

“He is in the palace. Has asked me to update on your status on a daily basis”.

Damen nodded and felt a wave of relief he couldn’t truly explain. The wave of relief, however, was soon eclipsed by the intense pain in his abdomen. 

Paschal rushed to get him some water and pain medications. 

And he closed his eyes again.

Somewhere, in the realm between dream and reality, he had heard Laurent’s voice. 

And perhaps the fever he had held after the injury had caused him some sort of hallucination.

Or perhaps he had, in fact, seen Laurent examining him carefully, and asking Paschal about Damen’s future. Or something of the sorts. It had been a haze.

He woke up again two days later.

Nikandros was next to him. And had smiled as soon as Damen opened his eyes.

The same question that had lingered in his lips when Paschal had seen him wake up for the first time lingered again on his mouth.

And he asked it.

Nik simply replied that Laurent had left that morning. 

And the stabbing pain that he felt was alright.

The weird thing about that stabbing pain was that it was nowhere near the place where Kastor had stabbed him.

Damen couldn’t exactly place where it was. 

But it was alright.

He understood.

Somehow, he didn’t need more information. Laurent had left for Arles, to reign. 

A kingdom, or this.

And Laurent’s choice was crystal clear. 

A kingdom, or this.

Damen knew it was time to choose the kingdom. 

The stabbing pain never truly left, not really.

His shoulder ached. His chest ached. His stomach ached.

He got used to it and that was that. 

That morning after the engagement party, after he had dreamt of the Summer Palace,  he stood in front of the mirror, he stared deeply at his scar, tracing it, feeling what he felt as Kastor stabbed him and how for that one second he didn’t really care about the fleeting thought he was going to die, because the pain of the betrayal hurt much more, and left more scars. 

The pain of the absence, that, too, left many scars, all of them untraceable.

****

At the Council Room, Laurent was the only person present when Damen walked in. He was studying the treaty carefully, and annotating copiously on a piece of paper. Seeing his brain on action was fascinating, Damen thought, as he saw him analyze and overanalyze every single piece of text his eyes landed on. 

After a couple minutes, all he said was, “Are you going to keep staring or are you going to walk into the room?”

Damen cleared his throat. “That depends”.

“On what”.

“On whether you are still planning to throw the treaty to the trash or not”.

Laurent finally looked up at him. “I never said I would throw it to the trash”.

Damen sat in front of him. For some stupid reason, he was very frustrated at Laurent. And he knew quite well it had everything to do with his dream of the Summer Palace, and it was unreasonable, but he couldn’t help but feel it. The night before he had spoken more than he should have and he had said things he hadn’t meant to spill out, not yet, or perhaps not ever. He dragged a deep breath and summoned all the patience he could gather before almost begging him again. “Fine. Let’s pretend there is no longer a treaty between Vere and Akielos. What is the option you propose? A full on war with Akielos? Does that make sense to you? After Marlas, that is your solution?”

“I am merely studying every possibility, Damianos. I have not mentioned that I want to scale this into a direct conflict”.

“A conflict you would certainly lose”, Damen added.

“I am not interested in expanding my kingdom”, Laurent said, looking at Damen straight in the eye, “lest of all for Akielos, but how can I have the certainty that Akielos, Patras or even Vask do not share that interest?”

“You can have my word that Akielos does not, and if you keep the alliance I will make certain that Patras-”

Laurent interrupted him. “Your word means nothing to me”.

“It meant something when I was the commander of your troops, or are you pretending you have forgotten about that as about everything else that happened back then?”, Damen said, raising his voice, feeling very angry all of the sudden.

Laurent dragged a deep, calming breath, before replying, “what I meant is that I can’t say in front of the Venetian council that I have your word that Akielos will not attack us. That will not do”.

“Then what do you need? Do you want me to walk in there and promise your Council that they have my word? I can do it if it means you will stop being unreasonable”.

Laurent rubbed his forehead, deep in thought. Damen allowed him to think, knowing quite well it would do no good to interfere with his train of thought. A minute later, Laurent said, “I think we need to renegotiate the non-interference agreement”, he whispered. 

Damen frowned. 

That did not make sense. The non-interference agreement meant that Vere and Akielos would not interfere with the other kingdom’s internal conflicts, nor attempt to gather support towards one side or the other. If Laurent wanted to keep Vere safe, he would not modify this out of all the points of the treaty. What the hell was going on in his head? Did he do it so Vere could interfere with Akielos’ internal problems? Did he have a plan for this? Why on Earth couldn’t he just trust Laurent?

“What?”, he asked. 

Laurent was about to open his mouth to reply when Nik stormed into the room, slamming the door, and rushing towards Laurent. He grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up, “you conniving lying piece of shit!”, he spat. Laurent’s expression was unmoving, he didn’t look surprised at all. 

Damen rushed and pushed Nik aside, holding him against the wall, confusion written on his face.

Nik tried to break himself free from Damen’s grasp, but he was unmoving. “How dare you step in here, you fucking snake?”, he was breathing hard.

And Damen was confused. 

“NIK!”, Damen said, without understanding what the hell had just happened. 

Laurent fixed his collar and rose his eyebrow, but he didn’t say a word.

“I’m going to kill him”, Nik said again, trying to free himself from Damen’s grasp. He only tightened it. 

“I can explain”, Laurent said calmly, as if he was expecting that kind of response coming from Nikandros. His eyes were not fixed on Nikandros, though.

“You can shut your FUCKING FACE, you piece of shit!”, Nik replied.

“Nikandros!”, Damen said, with as much authority as he could muster, “you cannot refer to another king in this manner”.

“He is not a king, he’s a fucking snake. Has always been”.

“Would you just explain what the hell is going on?”, Damen asked.

Nik dragged a deep breath, looked at Damen, and finally said: “I just got a message from Lydos. There are Veretian troops gathering at the border at Delpha”.

Damen felt the air being knocked out of his lungs. Laurent simply closed his eyes, as if bracing himself for whatever Damen was about to say. He let Nikandros loose and turned to look at Laurent, pain and betrayal, and everything else in between, written all over his expression. He didn’t even attempt to conceal it, he knew there was no way he could conceal the feeling of being stabbed in the back.

“Is that true?”, he whispered, his jaw clenched.

Laurent didn’t reply. 

“IS THAT TRUE?”, his voice raised. 

“I can explain”, Laurent whispered.

Damen felt as if his muscles had stopped responding. He shook his head in disbelief and let out a heartless, breathless laugh. “So you did mean it. You warned us about it, and I thought I could make you change your mind but you were already set on war”.

It hurt to breathe. He wanted to hurt Laurent, while he still remained silent and calm, his expression giving nothing away, but Damen felt like a match had been lit up inside him, and he wanted to spill it all: “You lost your brother to a senseless war and still you choose to head us into another senseless war. Well, congratulations, you got yourself your war. Because it’s always your way, isn’t it? It’s always about what you want. It’s the game you like, and it doesn’t matter how many more Augustes, how many more brothers, how many more soldiers it costs you”.

Laurent did not raise to the bait. He remained silent.

“What the fuck happened to you, Laurent? This isn’t the person I-”

Shut up.

He bit his tongue. The other two words missing ‘fell for’, aching to come out.

“The person I knew”.

Nik shook his head and sat on the table, his head between his hands. “We need to decide how to respond”, he said to Damen.

As he said that, the Council walked into the room, all blissfully unaware of what had happened. Damen couldn’t take his eyes off Laurent, he couldn’t connect the Laurent he had met and spent all those nights plotting, strategizing with, sharing deep, long conversations, the one man he would trust with his entire life, the man he had fallen for, the one he had once intended to take to the Summer Palace, with the Laurent standing in front of him. It was as if man and myth met, and suddenly the person he couldn’t stop dreaming about had turned into a monster, into a nightmare.

Laurent walked towards Damen and whispered: “Damianos, let me explain”.

“Shut up!”, was Nikandros’ response, much quieter, so the people from the Council, who were already taking their seats, wouldn’t suspect. 

“Nikandros”, Damen said, reprimanding him. 

Laurent’s eyes on Damen were unmoving. 

And Damen hated the fact he still trusted him somehow. There must be a reason, there had to be one.

He wanted to trust him anyway. 

He nodded slightly and turned to address the Council. “The meeting is postponed. I will summon you again in a couple of hours”.

The Council eyed each other confusedly, it was the first time ever that Damen had postponed a meeting.

“Leave”, was all Damen said, and he said it with such authority, everyone stood up and left immediately.

Everyone but Nikandros and Laurent, who still had his eyes fixed on Damen.

“You too, Nikandros. Let me talk to Laurent alone”.

Nik stood up immediately. “No. I will not leave you alone with this snake”.

“You will. Get out”.

“He is on the verge of sending us to a war and he will convince you that is the right choice! I know his kind. He knows his power over you, Damianos, he knows he can trick you into anything and you will buy it”.

“GET OUT OF HERE!”, was all Damianos said, his patience running thin, and feeling angry about the fact Nik thought Laurent was capable of rendering him powerless. “And you will not say a word about this until I have talked to Laurent. I will fetch you after I’m done here. Now, get out of my sight”.

Nik huffed in anger but walked off, his shoulder crashing against Laurent’s as he did so. Laurent’s eyes remained on Damen, who simply followed Nik out the door and closed it behind him.

He turned towards Laurent. “Explain, then”.

Laurent remained calm. “You were not supposed to find out about the troops”.

“So you could get the upper hand once you decided to attack Akielos?”

Laurent moved closer towards him. “No. You were not supposed to find out about the troops because it is an internal issue for Vere”.

“What?”

Laurent shook his head and dragged a deep breath. “I have successfully kept the secrecy on this issue, until now. Especially from Lydos, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the kyros at Karthas would find out. 

For the last couple of months, Delfeur has been the epicenter of a series of…uprisings. People who were loyal to the Regent and people who refused to the annexation of Delfeur have been building an army to try and overthrow my Government. Of course, they have been unsuccessful, but I have reasons to believe they have insider information from someone at my Council, or at the palace at Arles”.

Damen had more questions than answers.

Laurent continued. “The reason why I believe this is because I have been the target of a couple of assassination attempts during the past few months. It’s as if the rebels knew my every movement, and the routes I will take, somehow they have a tactic to make me fall”.

Assassination attempts.

Damen couldn’t think past those two words. 

“Of course, we have managed to get ahead of those situations, but it has costed me some of my own people. I have left unscathed…”, he said, but looked down, “not without a couple of bruises”, he pointed at his right ankle.

“You put less weight on your right ankle, that gave you away”, Damen had told him after they had sparred together, a couple of days ago. 

Damen shook his head, trying to process it. 

Laurent continued. “I came here, not to escape the situation, but to assess it from the other side. I needed to understand the general feeling towards Vere coming from Akielos. I didn’t come here to ruin your wedding, Damianos, nor to ruin the treaty, I came here to save my kingdom.

“Last night I asked Jord to order a new block of troops to move towards the border, and I was reading the treaty to try and understand what was decided upon military cooperation between Vere and Akielos. I don’t want another war, but if I must go to war to preserve the welfare of my kingdom, I need you by my side, but I know that it is a risky choice, and one that might lead to even more discontent. So you see, while you’ve been busy picking flowers for your ceremony, I’ve been trying to prevent a war in my kingdom”.

Damen only had one thought in mind, and so he voiced it. “How bad was it?”

“What?”, Laurent replied, confused.

“The last attempt on your life”.

Laurent frowned and shrugged. “It rendered me unconscious for a while, but Jord and Lazar were fast enough to react and Paschal was close by as well, it could have been worse. I did lose three of my best soldiers”.

“How come Akielos knew nothing about it?”

“As I told you: I have kept the utmost secrecy on this matter. No one could know. Especially-”

“Especially me”.

“Especially Akielos”.

“Why?”

“Because you might use it against us. Simple strategy, Damianos, you should try it sometimes”.

“Fuck the strategy!”, he said, kicking a chair nearby, feeling all the anger and the frustration invading him again, but mixed with something deeper: worry. “What good could it make to Akielos” to me, he didn’t say, “to have you dead?”

“I know it is not strategic for Akielos. But that does not mean that you might not want me dead”.

“So you expected to keep up the lie until I got married? And then what?”

“I would figure it out. And I would manage to secure a safer alliance with Akielos and Patras”.

That’s why you came here, then. 

Damen sat on the chair. The anger giving place to a genuine feeling of sadness. 

I almost lost you and I didn’t even know it.

And those words stabbed him deeper than anything else. 

How are you? He wanted to ask. 

Why didn’t you tell me before? I would have given everything to help you, he didn’t say. 

“I know you think many things of me, Damianos, but I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I’m not asking for your help, I just need you to understand that I don’t want a war. And what I want the least is to scale an internal conflict into an external one”.

Damen was hurt. He stared at Laurent with pure hurt written on his features, “and the best excuse you could come up with was that you wanted to destroy the treaty? Our treaty?”

Laurent shrugged. “Well, I couldn’t say that I wanted to destroy the wedding. The invitation… it came at a perfect time”.

Damen didn’t reply to that. Truth was that a part of him held onto a stupid, pointless hope that Laurent had another motive to come here. A stupid part of him had expected that somewhere along the way Laurent could stop this, this pointless wedding. 

And yet, the truth was far from that.

It hurt. 

“I trust you. I still do. I need you to know that much”.

Damen stood up. “And yet, you didn’t trust me enough to tell me you had almost been killed”.

“I didn’t want you to know”.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know”.

Damen felt exhausted all of a sudden. Like all the energy had been drained from him. “So, now what?”

“Now I need you to calm Nikandros down. And to keep this a secret. I need to buy time”.

“If you’re here, who is in Vere dealing with this?”

“Vannes. I know Arles is in good hands, now I need to find a way out of this”. 

“So the conversations about the treaty were merely a distraction so Akielos wouldn’t look into the mess in Vere”.

“I wouldn’t call it a ‘mess’”, Laurent said, offended.

Damen shook his head and left out a humorless laugh. “After all you’ve said, now you’re appealing to our treaty to save your kingdom”.

Laurent remained silent. 

Damen simply stared at him, hurt written across his features. He didn’t even know what it was that was causing such pain. Perhaps the fact he didn’t even consider telling him. Perhaps the fact Laurent had almost been killed. Perhaps the fact Laurent couldn’t care less about the wedding. Perhaps the realization that, after all was said and done, they weren’t even friends, they were rulers who barely knew one another. 

Perhaps the realization that Ravenel had meant nothing to the Laurent that was standing in front of him.

Perhaps all of that.

They looked at each other silently for a while. They had done this before, but it felt so terribly loaded, so painful, Damen couldn’t look away, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

Finally, he shook his head, “I need to go”.

“Damen-”, was the last thing he heard before he closed the door behind him.

Chapter 9

Notes:

Hello!! I’ll get to reply to your WONDERFUL and thoughtful and amazing comments on the last chapter later today, but I wanted to fulfill my promise and give you the next chapter in a week’s time. Enjoy!!! (Or suffer! Or both!) <3

“What was his excuse this time?”, Nik asked as soon as Damen walked into his own chambers.

Truth was, Damen didn’t want to deal with Nikandros at the moment. Damen didn’t want to deal with anything. He wanted to bury himself in his bed and wake up when the wedding was done and Laurent was gone.

He sat on the bed and exhaled, feeling exhausted, angry and hurt.

Nik was impatient. “Did he sugarcoat it for you? Pretend he didn’t do anything? Said it was all lies and then invited you to his chambers so you wouldn’t ask again?”

Damen stood up and clenched his hands into fists. “Do shut up, Nikandros, or I swear I’ll punch you”.

Nik bit his lip. He took a couple of calming breaths before asking, quieter, “whatever are we going to do, Damen?”

“Nothing. We will keep this a secret from the Council, we will not summon troops to Karthas and I will personally write a correspondence to Lydos asking him to keep an eye out but to stay out of it”.

As Damen talked, he saw Nik growing angrier and angrier by the second. “WHAT?”

Damen rubbed his face with his hands. 

“I knew he’d find a fucking way to convince you, that snake-”.

“SHUT UP!”, Damen yelled. “I am done with this conversation, and I’m done with you believing that I will fall on my knees for Laurent. That was seven years ago and we are not the same Damen and Laurent from then. I once asked myself if I chose him or my kingdom, and he made the choice for me. So no, I would never put my interest, nor his, before the kingdom. Everything I do, I do for Akielos, even marrying a Patran delegate to calm the waters. I have learnt long ago what my duty is to Akielos, and I know it means putting my happiness, my wellbeing, my everything behind, to put the kingdom at the forefront. Laurent will not change that, especially not the Laurent that came here to visit us. I do not know that Laurent, and I don’t plan to get to know him either. So there’s your answer: shut your fucking face and trust your king! Trust your friend”.

Nik sat next to him and exhaled. “I’m sorry. You’re right”.

Damen let his head hang loose as he shook it slowly, defeated. “I would never fall on my knees for this Laurent”, he whispered, allowing all the hurt to taint his voice, he knew Nik could read him like an open book at that moment and he didn’t even care.

Nik frowned but didn’t dwell on it. “What do you need me to do?”

“Leave me alone. Let me think for a moment. Have the conviction that Laurent is not planning to attack us”.

“How can you be so sure?”

Because he’s too busy trying to not get himself killed. 

Damen shrugged. “I’ll explain later. Now I really need to be alone, please”.

Nik nodded earnestly. “I’ll order the area cleared”.

Damen wanted to cry with relief. “Thank you, Nik”, he whispered, helplessly. 

Nik threw one last worried glance at his friend before walking away.

*****

Laurent had almost died.

Laurent had almost died. And Damen couldn’t understand that, couldn’t bring himself to. He imagined himself finding out about it, and he couldn’t even begin to express, couldn’t imagine what it would be like, the fear it would incite, the hopelessness, the loss and the grief. 

He hadn’t seen Laurent much for the last seven years, but that didn’t mean that he felt a deep, profound, absolute connection to him, a connection that transcended frontiers, and that transcended time and circumstances. 

And to lose that… he couldn’t imagine a future without Laurent, couldn’t possibly envision his life without him, didn’t even know if it was a future worth living. 

Because for the past seven years, what had kept him going, alongside Eg, and his kingdom, he supposed, was the thought that somehow, someway, the stars would align again and he and Laurent could reunite, either as friends, or as something else, but to rekindle what was once lost, to reignite the spark that once was there, the spark that made them, them. He remembered the long nights plotting together below the tents, that time after they’ve been raided when Laurent arrived with a package of ice and put it on the side of his abdomen to ease the pain, how that same night he had overridden his impulses and had reached out to touch Laurent’s jaw, helplessly, after he was injured, feeling nothing but a deep, murderous feeling against the people who had dared lay a hand on Laurent. 

That feeling had never dwindled overtime. Whoever those rebels were, whatever had happened between him and Laurent over the past seven years, the fact they were definitely not okay, nothing changed the fact that they had tried to assassinate Laurent, and Damen was going to kill them.

That, if Laurent ever confided in him again to lay out all of the details of what had happened. 

Because it stung, deeply, the feeling that Laurent had not turned to him to fight against them, not willingly, at least. Damen would have given everything to him: his army, his power, his insiders, his Council, in order to fight them, if it meant Vere would have some stability and Laurent would reign in peace and at ease. He would have done anything that Laurent asked, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how Laurent hadn’t chosen to do that. 

He buried himself in the pillow and dragged a deep breath, feeling exhausted.

*****

He woke up about three hours later, to a loud knock on his door. Damen frowned, and felt immediately furious. Nik had ordered the section cleared, he didn’t want to talk to anybody. 

The knocks were insistent. Damen groaned into his pillow and covered his ears with it. He stood up and walked towards the door, perhaps it was an emergency, perhaps he was needed immediately. He opened the door. 

“What?”, he asked, angrily.

Laurent was standing by the door, leaning against the doorframe, looking calm and at ease and so incredibly okay with everything that Damen wanted to kill him on the spot. 

He sighed. 

“Nice way to salute a royal, Damianos”, he said calmly.

“I ordered the section cleared”.

“I don’t think the rule applied to me”, he replied, “Pallas tried to interfere, but that was a battle he was bound to lose”.

“What do you want?”

“May I come in?”

“I’m busy”.

“Sulking, apparently”.

“Performing my duties as a king”, he lied.

Laurent looked at him up and down. “Yes, that is instantly clear”.

Damen rubbed his eyebrows. “Can you leave, Your Honor?”, the title slightly derisive. 

“I’m persistent. And I do need to talk to you”.

“I don’t want to talk”.

Laurent rose his eyebrow and looked at him mischievously. “We can do something else, if you’d like”.

Damen rolled his eyes. He truly wasn’t in the mood for this side of Laurent at the moment. He dragged a deep breath and opened the door wider, walking into the room and not bothering to close it behind him.

Laurent had not been in Damen’s chambers before. He walked in slowly. The first room was Damen’s study, the desk filled with papers scattered around. Damen stopped right there. He didn’t want to allow Laurent inside his room, the one where his bed was. He wasn’t ready, he truly didn’t want to deal with having Laurent at his bedroom. 

Laurent scanned it carefully, his eyes flying everywhere. Damen led him to a seat and Laurent tried to look into his bedroom. Damen stood in front of him. 

“Entertaining a lover, Damianos?”

“In case you have forgotten, I am getting married in a month. And I do take the commitment seriously”.

 “Hm. Must be hell for you, all that time without any relief”, was all Laurent replied.

“What do you want to talk about?”

Laurent sat with his back straight, his Veretian clothes as regal as ever. His suit was black from head to toe, in velvet, and the laces were golden, and they fitted him perfectly. His hair was loose, long up to his neck, just like seven years ago. It suited him, it looked like his hair had evolved with him, and what once was a symbol of his youth was now a symbol of adulthood, of maturity and wisdom. His eyes as blue and as compelling as always, but ice cold, like the first time they had looked at one another when Damen arrived to Arles as a slave. It suited him nonetheless, the cold, nonchalant stance, the regal pose. Everything suited him. Damen hated him for that. “I wanted to know what Nikandros said after you talked to him”.

Damen sat in front of Laurent and released a sigh as he did so, trying to convey that he didn’t feel like talking to him at the moment. “He reluctantly agreed.”

“And what is your stance on the matter?”

“That you’re an idiot”.

Laurent’s eyebrows rose before he managed to control his emotions, clearly not expecting that reply. Damen smirked, unable to help himself. “Don’t give me that look”, Laurent replied, “tell me why is that so?”

“You should have trusted me. You could have trusted me, and you chose not to. And that was a stupid decision to make”.

“I didn’t think your knowledge on the matter, or the absence of it, would make much of a difference in Vere”, Laurent replied. “Regardless of what you think, not the entire world turns around Akielos. If you knew, you would probably make a stupid decision, like to send an Akielon army to Delfeur. Do you have any idea of the impact that would have?”

“Laurent, we took entire fortes with all the odds against us out of mere strategy, and you think I would be stupid enough to order to send an army to Delfeur? Do you really believe that?”

Laurent was silent for a moment, and then, reluctantly, and very quietly, replied: “no, I don’t”.

“If you trusted me back then, why can’t you trust me now?”

“Because I don’t know you anymore. People change, Damianos, their intentions change, their goals change, their strategies change. Akielos is still considered an enemy for Vere, so spare me if I choose to remain wary of this kingdom”.

“So I’m your enemy, then?”, Damen said, slightly offended.

Laurent left out a breath of exasperation. “That is not what I meant to say”

“Slave, brute,  prince-killer, commander, friend, lover, and now enemy again”, Damen said, standing up, feeling angry once again, all of the sudden, and walking towards the door. “Seems like I have been many things for you. Good to know where we stand now. Kindly, Your Honor, leave my room”.

“I am not leaving”.

“Fine!”, Damen replied, throwing the door closed with as many strength as he could muster. He came back to stand in front of Laurent, “then explain to your enemy what the fuck do you actually want, what you actually came here for, and then leave”.

Laurent’s voice was soft where it should have been angry and cold. “Damen”, he whispered.

Damen pointed a finger at him. “Don’t”, he swallowed, suddenly invaded by the memories and the nostalgia and the aching and the missing and he felt like he might choke on it. When his voice came back it was tight and dangerously low, on the verge of breaking down, with his jaw clenched, he added, “don’t call me Damen. I’m speaking to you as a King. You will address me as such”.

The cold in Laurent’s stare and voice was back. “Fine, your way then”.

“It’s never my way. Not with you”.

“I need to know that I can count on you”.

Damen let out a small laugh, with animosity, no real humor involved on it. “What?”

“I need to know that Akielos will remain as my ally. And I need to secure the alliance with Patras. That is all I’m asking from you. If I have Patras, Akielos, and with Vannes, Vask, then the rebels will not have a legitimate way to overthrow my government. See? You are central to the puzzle. From a king to a king”.

From a former lover to a former lover, Damen didn’t say. “I am not a…fucking”, he clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to calm down, taking deep, long breaths. “I am not a fucking piece of a puzzle for you to use at your convenience”.

“You asked me to talk to you as a king addresses a king. I am merely stating the facts. And I promise you once the situation is settled, we can discuss the treaty, and make it more beneficial for Akielos. You have my word”.

Fuck the treaty. Fuck you. 

Laurent continued. “I will stay here until the wedding, and then I will leave you alone. If that’s what you want”. 

Yes.

No.

“I just-”, he craned his neck from side to side, a sign he was exhausted. He used to do that seven years ago. “I need to see how risky it would be for your own kingdom to remain loyal to Vere. I know how much it matters to you…the public opinion. It’s just one of the reasons why I had to come here earlier”.

“One of?”

“One of”.

“What are the others?”, Damen stared at him deeply. 

Laurent exhaled and shook his head. “Too many to tell”, he looked up and met Damen’s eyes. 

They stared at each other silently for a couple of seconds, and Damen simply allowed himself to drown in the deep blue of Laurent’s eyes, desperate to keep drowning for the rest of his life. 

Inside, he was fighting an internal battle. The side of him that wanted to get lost and drown and fuck up, and the other side that was begging him to back off and stop feeling pain.

And Damen didn’t know which side to listen to. Didn’t know what to do. 

Finally, Damen decided it was time to break the silence. “Do you need a doctor? He could check on your injuries”.

Laurent kept looking at him, clearly not expecting that question from Damen at the moment, sensing how incredibly angry he was. “No. It’s alright. I’m… alright. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, but I do thank you for your hospitality”.

Damen looked at him suspiciously. “What has gotten into you? You don’t…usually say those things”.

“People change, Damianos”.

“I haven’t changed”.

“You’re getting married. You have changed”.

“…Nobody’s attending you”, Damen dared himself to mention, knowing there was every chance possible that this could go so, so very wrong. “I sent some servants to go to your aid, and you refused them. You’re right, people change”.

“I can untie my laces by myself, thank you”.

“Then, why didn’t you do so when we were-” together, “hm, when I was your slave?”

Laurent faced down, looking clearly like he didn’t want to bring back the past. “You know why”.

Damen remembered the golden bracelet that was at the top of his table at the side of his bed, right next to his own golden bracelet. Both next to one another. A painful reminder of the life that could have been. “No”, he whispered, “I don’t”.

Laurent smiled softly at Damen, and for a moment, he was brought back to the sweeter memories, to this side of Laurent that was hidden, occult, that he worked so hard to conceal day by day. “Yes, you do”, he replied, standing up.

Please leave.

Please stay. 

Please kiss me senselessly and allow me to kiss all the injuries that are still scarring your body, please ask me to not get married, please ask me to fight once again by your side, please tell me this is not over. Please-

Please don’t let me go through this once again. 

Damen walked towards the entrance of his chamber, his back to Laurent, to take a moment to try and rebuild the fragments of himself that felt like they were scattered all over the floor. 

He opened the door. But Laurent was not behind him. Rather than that, he was now looking at Damen’s bedroom, still. 

Damen cursed under his breath and walked towards the doorframe that led to the bedroom.

Laurent’s arms were crossed, his face giving nothing away, but his eyes were fixed on the two bracelets. 

“Laurent, please, don’t say anything, just leave”, Damen said, helplessly, for he couldn’t take it anymore.

Laurent stood still, staring at the bracelets silently for a while, as if he was in a trance. Damen wished desperately to understand what the hell was going on in his head, but couldn’t. He remained as much of an enigma as always, but if he was anything like Damen at all, he might recognize that look, for sometimes he went through that same thing: when an object reminded him of a certain moment in time and he was transported to that one moment, to the place and the smell and the feeling and the smiles and the tears and the phrases and the sensations and the expressions and whatever that made that one object so fundamental despite being just… an object.

Perhaps Laurent was there.

Perhaps Laurent just wanted to forget.

Either way, Damen needed him to leave, before he did something incredibly stupid.

Laurent blinked himself out of his trance. When he turned to look at Damen, it was with a slightly confused expression in his face, and this time he didn’t even attempt to hide it, which was very, very unusual for Laurent. “Yes”, he whispered and shook his head, as if deep in thinking himself, “I’ll leave”.

Don’t.

Damen stared at him, openly and silently, they were merely a couple of inches away. 

“Friends? Is that what we are?”

“Laurent, I’m your slave”.

He closed his eyes, willing desperately for the memory to vanish, to let him breathe. 

“Thank you, Damen”, was all Laurent said as he walked away from the chamber. 

Damen forced his brain to react and followed him, opening the door once again for him.

Don’t call me Damen.

Please call me Damen.

That small acknowledge from Laurent about their past hurt, but at the same time brought him some stupid and senseless relief. 

“Good night”, was all that Damen said as he closed the door behind Laurent.

As soon as he did, he leant against the door and whispered to himself a small reassurance. “I haven’t changed”.

And it was the truth. Whatever had been there seven years ago, remained as alive, as present, as invasive as all that time ago. 

And beneath it all, an immutable truth: he would do anything for Laurent.

It was true seven years ago. It was true right then. 

Chapter 10

Notes:

I am back and I'm very sorry for being so absent!! But I do hope you enjoy this chapter and I'd like to add that from now on I will be more active with the updates, thankfully the past couple of days I have been able to write much more and may I just say that... I'm very excited for what's about to come for these two idiots ;)

Anyway I hope you enjoy this kind of transition chapter but that will lead us to the next stage of our story... a juicy stage if I may add.

Thank you so much to everyone who will continue to read this little one and I hope you keep enjoying it and please don't hate me for taking so long to update!! <3 big hugs!

The sun was bright and shining over the top of the trees, intense and warm, so warm it feels like they are burning. Damen was used to it, and if it weren’t for the beauty of the landscape, for the bright smile in Eg’s face, he would be exhausted.

He would be exhausted, for it had been an unusual morning.

Unaware of the crisis looming in the horizon, of the mistrust between Vere and Akielos, or more like, between Nik and Laurent, Irina had suggested the Court should go hunting. It was stupid and pointless, and Damen had so many more things to focus on, but everyone seemed so pleased by the idea, that there was no possible way he could say no. He knew he could say no. But he didn’t want to have to give explanations as to why he had chosen to. 

Laurent, of course, had been invited along. And he’d gladly joined. He was some steps ahead, walking quietly and animatedly, a bow and an arrow on his shoulder. That hadn’t stopped him from wearing dark blue velvet, his hair on a loose braid, a couple of strands of hair on his face, but Damen hadn’t noticed. Not really. Not at all. 

His face was slightly, just slightly flushed, the only sign that the unbearable heat was doing something to him, but other than that, no other visible sign, unnoticed by everyone else, but Damen. He was limping, just a little bit. Unnoticed by everyone else, but Damen. Damen who knew what was going on.

Eg had run along and joined Laurent almost immediately. Laurent, who had been deep in conversation with Jord, suddenly lifted his hand towards Jord, leaving it quite clear that the conversation was over, and immediately starting a conversation with Eg, one Damen couldn’t really understand.

Jokaste had walked next to Damen and said, offended, “and yet, someone else who leaves me for him”.

“You and I both know I wasn’t the first one to leave our relationship”, Damen hesitated, “-or whatever the hell that was”.

Jokaste smiled at him. “You would have left me for him either way”.

“We wouldn’t have met with him if it weren’t for you”, he said, no real animosity behind his words. In all honesty, he had forgiven Jokaste a long time ago. It had certainly been a terrible, awful, experience, but also one he would never, ever regret. It brought him to Laurent, it gave him his kingdom, it gave Laurent his kingdom. 

He could not hate her for that. He could not hate Kastor either. The man who died that night was no longer his brother nor the person he had grown up with. He could not hate him, but he could no longer love him, nor remember him with nostalgia, nor with sadness. He didn’t think about him, not really. And when he did, he allowed himself to remember him, to remember all the wrongs he did more than the rights, for the rights were such a distant memory, Damen could no longer bring them to the forefront of his mind. 

The truth was, the memory of his brother irreparably led him to think about Laurent. 

Laurent, who had killed Kastor and saved Damen’s life. 

He wondered if, whenever Laurent thought about Auguste, he thought about Damen as well. If he’d tainted all the memories ever since, if that was perhaps the reason why they could never be together. If Laurent still hated him deeply. 

Whenever he thought about that, his mind brought him to a place he certainly didn’t want to explore: the aching, deep, awful regret that washed over him. Sometimes the regret was so huge, and the impotence so powerful, there was noting left for him to do but allow it to overtake him. He wondered, what would have happened if fourteen years ago, back at Marlas, he had been the one who would have died and not Auguste. 

Laurent’s life would have certainly been brighter, happier, better.

Theomedes would have mourned him. 

Kastor wouldn’t have cared, probably.

Akielos would have been in terrible hands.

But Laurent would have been okay. 

He hated that intrusive thought, and he hated the fact that for the last seven years, he couldn’t stop having it. It came unbidden, unwanted, like his nightmares, like his dreams. He didn’t wish for them, they just happened. 

Or perhaps, he did wish for them, perhaps a part of him thought he would deserve to feel like this for the rest of his life, for he had done so much harm, something had to be done about it. 

He wondered if Laurent ever thought about that night he killed Kastor, if he was ever brought back to that one moment. If he regretted it, if he didn’t care, if it affected him somehow, if he had thrown it away to a distant corner of his mind and simply never cared to revisit ever again. 

Damen wouldn’t blame him, not really. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Laurent ever thought about that night when he’d strapped him to a post and whipped him nearly to the point of unconsciousness, if whenever he remembered it, he felt pleasure, or if he felt regret, or if he felt anything at all. 

Damen had forgiven him for that a long time ago. But the scars remained as a painful reminder, as if they were also reflecting the scars that were left inside him, the scars that surrounded his heart. Sometimes he would look at them and examine them closely. The physical pain had been so deep, so intense, and yet, Damen always came back to the same conclusion: he would rather experience that ephemeral, terrible pain, than this eternal, constant, inescapable ache. 

“You’re moody today”, a voice next to him said. 

Irina looked beautiful. Objectively beautiful. She was wearing a long veiled dress that was certainly not fit for hunting, but she couldn’t care less. The tone of the dress matched the intense, light blue of the sky and her hair was also on a braid. She was looking at him quizzically, but with a soft smile on her face, completely unaware of the storm inside and outside of Damen, of Akielos. 

“I’m not certain a hunting trip was the best idea”, was all Damen said. 

She stooped and frowned. “Oh, really? You think so? Well, neither did I, but I’ll refresh your mind a little bit: it is a tradition of both Akielos and Patras whenever there are foreign visitors. And so far you have been so distracted by the Veretian delegation that you have forgotten nearly every mandatory event whenever there is a visit”. 

Damen was definitely moody. Irina was right, she was, but he didn’t feel like letting it go. “Well, I’ve been busy with important meetings, so spare me. I can assure you the Veretian delegation couldn’t care less about the protocol”. 

“I’ve been busy too. And don’t you even dare say that I’ve just been planning our wedding. Because I’ve spent every minute in which I’m not planning this learning about your traditions and your customs. I’ve been doing everything, everything I can to fit into a role I didn’t ask to be included in, while you’ve been too busy thinking about everything else but this event!”.

 By the end of her intervention, her voice had slightly raised and Damen looked around to find that whoever was closer was staring at them cautiously. Even Laurent and Eg had stopped walking and turned towards them, but Laurent wasn’t looking at them.

Damen took a deep, calming breath and forced himself to concede. Actually, Irina had a point, and he had absolutely no way to refute that, no counterargument that could make sense. He nodded and lowered his voice when he replied. “You’re right. And you’ve done a magnificent job at that. I’m sorry I snapped at you, you don’t deserve it. These couple of weeks have been difficult for me”, was all he said.

She eyed him quizzically. “Why?”

“I told you-”

“No, I know, about the possible, looming war with Vere, but I don’t think that’s all, Damen. When I arrived here, Akielos was at a turning point, with the abolition of slavery, and it was a crisis, a big one. And yet, you remained calm and cold-headed, practical. But this time, it’s different, I can’t pinpoint how, but things have changed since the Veretians arrived. So I’ll ask you this, and I need you to be honest with me: are you okay?”.

I’m fine, was Damen’s instant impulse. Of course he was okay, of course he could lie to her. He stopped for a moment and considered his reply, she deserved that much at least. He sighed. “No. I’m not okay”.

Irina smiled reassuringly. “I already knew that. You can tell me why, if you want. Perhaps I might be of help”.

Damen shook his head. “There’s not much for you to do. Help me not to lose my mind, I suppose. I just-”

I just miss him so much. 

I just hate everything about this.

I just don’t want to get married. 

I just want to run away.

I just found out he had almost been killed.

I just have to accept the fact I still love him and I won’t get him back. 

“Their presence has triggered many memories for me. Some good, most of them bad. I have been dealing with that, but also with the threat of war. So I have to pretend I’m fine while I just keep going back to the past. I need to do what’s best for my kingdom while I struggle with things I haven’t come to terms with, and it hasn’t been easy, Irina. I’m under so much pressure, and I am used to that, but now it’s like the pressure is coming from everywhere, and I just need a break”.

And there it was. He hadn’t said one lie.

He had skipped certain things, but he had been as honest with her as he could have been. 

She placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed it softly. When she spoke again, her voice was soothing. “You don’t have to go through this alone, Damen, you have me and you have Nik and you have an entire Council that trusts you and follows your orders because you have been an excellent leader so far. So trust your instincts, trust  us, and do what’s best for your kingdom”.

“Like marrying you”.

“Like marrying me”, she replied with a smile and leaned forward to kiss him in the cheek. As soon as she moved back, Damen smiled back at her with affection and touched her nose with his fingertip, a gesture of camaraderie they had developed over the months they had been ‘together’, or whatever the hell that was. 

She laughed loudly and did the same thing to him, a reassurance of sorts. When Damen looked around, he realized everyone had stopped, everyone’s attention fixed on a wild pig that was passing by, some meters away. 

Everyone’s attention but Laurent’s. 

No, Laurent was staring at him. 

And Damen couldn’t for the life of him even begin to understand what the hell that was supposed to mean. And honestly, he didn’t even know if he wanted to understand. He was just tired of this little silly game between them. 

And thus, he grabbed his own bow and pointed directly at the wild pig. 

A quick throw and he was dead. 

Damen had learnt the best technique to spare the creature of any pain. He knew exactly how to point, what speed to use, where to aim. Everybody stared at him, surprised. Damen ignored them and walked past them, past Laurent, to examine the animal. 

“Nice throw”, Nik said, behind his back. 

In all honesty, Damen wasn’t even paying attention to it. He had acted mostly on instinct, desperate to ignore whatever the hell was going on and focus the attention on the only thing they should be focusing on. 

He shook his head and ordered their guards to pick up the dead animal. 

The rest of the hunting trip went by in a wink, and Damen really didn’t care for it. Most of his attention was focused on Eg, who looked so incredibly at ease next to Laurent. At a moment, he took him by his hand and started pointing at him certain trees he found interesting. Laurent didn’t lose his attention on him, in fact, he didn’t even attempt to hide his interest on whatever Eg was saying, and Damen found that stupidly endearing, and hated it. 

 

By the time they arrived back to the palace, it was almost time for lunch. Each retreated silently to their chambers to get ready for an outdoor lunch, and just about Damen was leaving, he felt a hand on his wrist, stopping him.

Without even turning to look, he already knew who it belonged to, and in those seconds, he felt a mix of two feelings: the first one was expectation, surrounded by a touch of nerves, and that that was a very dangerous feeling to nurture. Whenever nerves, excitement and anticipation were mixed into whatever feeling, he knew he would be in trouble. He knew what it meant. He knew it, for he’d felt it over and over, only growing in strength and intensity during the months he spent by Laurent’s side. He’d gone through them all. And he had not felt them again. Seven years. 

The second one was awe: at how on earth was he supposed to know how that touch felt, whatever made it different from everything else, whatever made it so uniquely his, whatever that still made him so fucking tuned to Laurent’s body that he just knew. It was terrifying and seductive in an equal measure, a feeling he never wanted to feel again in his life, but one he couldn’t wait to feel again.

“What”, he said as he turned around, as nonchalantly as he could.

“I need to talk to you”.

“Then talk”.

“No, not now. Meet me tonight, after midnight, at the stables”.

What.

Damen had selected a wide variation of words with which he could explicitly say ‘No’ and ‘are you fucking crazy’, and he was ready to use them, in fact he was eager to use them. And just before he could open his mouth, Laurent said the one thing he could not say no to.

“Please”.

He was caught off guard, which was stupid, Laurent had used the ‘please’ card  before, in fact it was getting old, and yet, Damen knew deep inside that whenever Laurent used it, he meant it. And he hated using it, he found it to be a personal offense to him, and yet. There he was. 

Damen sighed and shook his head. “You really have to stop using that word”.

“Is that a yes?”

“I’ll see you tonight, midnight”.

Laurent nodded and walked away.

*****

There was something that felt fundamentally wrong about meeting Laurent secretly in the middle of the night. Wrong and inebriating and exciting and illicit and wonderful. But he knew he had to get through the day, and thus he proceeded a usual: discussing some of the wedding plans with Irina and trying, definitely trying, to get more involved into the process of decision-making. 

Then he had a council meeting in which the topic of Vere was not touched at all, and not brought up. Nik clearly didn’t seem comfortable with the idea but Damen threw his glances that begged him to keep his mouth shut and he obeyed. Instead, new trade routes with Patras were discussed and a new plan to help the peasants in the north which were affected by droughts during the summer. 

Damen asked Nik to stay after the meeting. Nik did so reluctantly, his arms crossed and looking still angry at Damen, who rolled his eyes and told him to calm down. He sat down over one of the tables. “Nik, Akielos is not in danger”.

“Akielos is always in danger when he’s around”.

“His kingdom is the one that is in danger”.

“What?”, Nik asked.

Damen explained the situation at him, loosely, leaving behind a couple of details, such as Laurent’s injury on his ankle. By the end, Damen said with complete honesty. “I want you to get a full picture of what is requested of us and I want you to give me your honest opinion about how we should proceed”.

“How do you feel?”, Nik said

Damen sighed. “I don’t want him to lose his kingdom, but that much is obvious”.

Nik nodded along. “I know he is a menace in general, with his big intellect and his aim to create chaos whenever he is around. But he has done a proper job with Vere. The kingdom is going well, the relationship in Akielos was going relatively well until two weeks ago, and in general he has commanded properly. I think he is a better choice than whoever that could claim his throne, especially if they are on the Regent’s side. My advise is to support him as one bloc, but it must be unanimous, Damen, and we can’t let our hand show too much, not really, because if this goes awful, it could be bad for Vere and for Akielos both. I need you to be absolutely certain that you can go down this path before committing to it. Your leadership might be at stake as well. I also need you to promise me that you will not drag your feelings into this. That you will think with a cold head, that you won’t allow yourself to fall into the impulses. Give me your word and I’ll have your back with the Council”.

Damen was… not expecting that. There was something about Laurent that brought the worst and most immature side of Nik to light. And honestly, Damen could not blame him for that. He was protective of Damen, of his feelings and of their kingdom, so it made sense. He had meditated whether or not he could share that information with Nik before he met with Laurent and now he was absolutely certain that he had made the right choice.

Seven years had passed, and nothing could prove it better that Nik’s reaction to this piece of information. 

And Nik was right. In the moment he’d allow his feelings to get in the way, to fuck it up, it would not be just him who would come out affected, it would be his entire kingdom. Laurent asking him to side with him was the biggest test to their alliance, to their relationship, and whatever that could come with it, he would have to make it work. The peace, their kingdoms, and them, were at stake.

And yet, deep down inside, Damen knew he could never ever refuse Laurent’s request, not when it meant that he would be in danger. He’d do whatever he could to support him. Always. 

“You have my word”, Damen said, slightly overcome with affection for his friend and advisor, “thank you, Nik”.

******

Laurent was already at the stables when Damen arrived, a little past midnight. He was too focused on brushing his horse’s mane, his entire attention focused on the task at hand, as if it was the most important thing he’d ever had to do. Before entering the stables, Damen took a second to stare at him and marvel at this side of Laurent he rarely ever got to see, but that somehow he had witnessed more frequently than expected in the past couple of days, with Eg. It was certainly not a side Laurent was keen on showing and yet he felt slightly comfortable at showing it there, at the palace at Ios of all places. 

Damen smiled softly. Just as he did, Laurent turned to him and his face became serious and nonchalant again. “I allowed enough of your staring but that was taking you too long”.

Oh, Damen knew that was the kind of response he could have expected. “Oh come on, you and I both can agree it is not common to see you in these situations, I was just basking on it to make sure I was not imagining it”.

“You have seen me like this before”.

“Seven years ago. Didn’t know you still had it in you”.

Laurent cleaned his hands with a handkerchief and stood in front of Damen. He was just wearing a white, veiled blouse tucked into those awful Veretian trousers and boots, both made out of black velvet. His hair was pulled in a braid, and this was the most at ease that Damen had seen him since he’d arrived to his kingdom. In fact, he was rendered speechless for a moment.

“I think yours is over there”, Laurent said, pointing at Damen’s horse. 

Damen cleared his throat and turned to where he had pointed. “Where are we going to go?”, he asked, softly. 

“Well, you are the host, and you have made a terrible job at it”.

Damen smiled despite himself. 

“…So I was thinking perhaps we may visit some of the Artesian ruins that you once told me about. You did say they were not far from the palace”.

He remembered.

It had been seven years ago, during one of their nightly conversations. Once Laurent had asked him what was his favorite place in Ios, and Damen had mentioned the Artesian ruins. They were 20 minutes away, and they were, in fact, quite astounding, the reminder of what once had been. A beautiful monument that had collapsed to the weight of greed, wish for power, war and hatred. 

Why are you doing this? Damen didn’t ask. 

“You are wondering why I’m doing this. Well. I want to get to know your city, so I know from where I can invade it”.

“Not funny”.

“We need a place to talk privately. Really privately. I don’t trust a place that has Jokaste in it. Or any other of the people of your Council, for that matter”.

“How?”, Damen asked helplessly.

“How what?”

“How do you still have the ability to read me and to understand what’s on my mind?”, he had to ask. 

“You are more transparent than you wish to be, Damianos. In fact, these seven years have done nothing to make you better at hiding your thoughts and feelings. You really should work on that”.

Damen frowned. “I’m certain then that you can tell exactly what I am thinking right now”.

“That I’m an asshole”, Laurent said, as he mounted his horse.

Chapter 11

Notes:

I am back on schedule!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE??? <3 haha this chapter is a bit on the shorter side, but it was so exciting to write I wanted to share it with you asap ;) hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and still read and supports this fic, it means so so much :3

Anyway, see you (hopefully) next week!

The ruins of the Artesian empire were massive. An entire city that had been wiped off during the Great War, hundreds of years ago. The first time he visited them, he was eight years old. Theomedes brought him and Kastor to explain them a little bit of their history, and of the consequences of making bad decisions. He spoke of how many people had died, of how it had resulted in the division of the kingdoms and how since then Vere and Akielos were sworn enemies. 

He also went on to say that Veretians were not to be trusted and many other things Damen has forgotten with the passing of time. 

Kastor was never interested in history. So for him, whenever his father brought it up, it was a small torture. Damen was not very interested either, he preferred to go running or wrestling with his friends, but he knew that this was important, otherwise his father, the King, would not have taken the time (and it was hours) to introduce them to this abandoned, forgotten and sad place.

Many years later, Damen remembered this place. And he remembered its solitude, its seclusion, its illusion of transporting him to another moment in time with its tall columns and wide halls that were now half buried beneath the grass, while reminding him of his duty to his kingdom.

And thus, during his adolescence, whenever he wanted to escape from the burden of being a royal, he went to the ruins. It had taken him a couple of visits to get to know them completely, to understand what belonged to what, to locate the amphitheater, the palace, the neighborhoods. He even found his favorite place of all: a small cave, almost hidden from the human eye by a gigantic rock that had fallen on top of it. After walking for a couple of minutes inside the cave, that still received a fair amount of sunlight during the day, he found a large painting of a couple of lovers, a man and a woman, decorating an entire wall.

After using his tutor about it, he found out it was never a cave, but rather the home of a poet and his beloved, that had been buried beneath the destruction of the war. Damen would visit it often, stare at it for hours, trying to grasp into the details of the painting, into the settings, the thousand ideas he could get out of them. He loved exploring it. 

He hadn’t been there in several years. In fact, he was certain he had not revisited this place since being shipped to Vere. He had passed by for certain, a couple of times, but he hadn’t stopped there again. He didn’t have the time for it. 

The last thing he expected was he could come back to that place with Laurent of all people. 

There was a certain magic to visiting this place during the nighttime. Since it was far from the city, it was very quiet and dark, and the main road was still a couple of minutes away, so it gave them a sense of privacy and seclusion that both knew they could appreciate much, especially now that they were Kings, and that they found these places and spaces to actually be alone more and more rare. As Laurent got down of the horse, Damen guided him towards the ruins of what had once been the main square, and next to it, the old abandoned palace. They explored them from within, their candlelights in hand, while Damen explained as much as he remembered about these places, guiding him through. Laurent seemed so invested on the stories, Damen forgot for a second why they were there in the first place. 

And thus, right next to the main square, they found a couple of stairs of what once had been a monument to the Goddess of Justice, and sat there. 

“Imposing, isn’t it?”, Damen asked.

Laurent nodded. 

It felt oddly… familiar. Being there alone, with Laurent, at night. It felt like no time had passed at all and at the same time as if it had been an entire eternity, as if Damen had lived a thousand lives ever since, and yet all the lives were meaningless next to those moments right by Laurent’s side. It was terrifying, thinking of it in that way, and he wondered how on Earth had he allowed it to happen, how had he allowed himself to be absolutely consumed, absorbed, obsessed with the feeling of being with Laurent, of sharing with Laurent. He dragged in a deep breath and focused on the view in front of him, of them, instead, only lit by the candlelights, creating a soft and enticing environment. It was… inadequate for this meeting, coming to think of it. 

He smiled and shook his head.

Laurent noticed. “What?”, he asked.

Damen looked up at the sky, that was filled with stars, more so than usual. “I have to admit I didn’t think I’d ever be alone again, at night, plotting with you in an open field”.

“I wouldn’t call it plotting. More like you will listen to my strategy and nod along”.

“And give you military, strategic and defensive advise. And I will not nod along”.

Laurent ignored him. “What are your thoughts about it?”

“I need you to brief me on how bad the situation is. What about your army? Your council? How long since the threats started? Have they worsened?”

Laurent replied calmly and with a honesty Damen was not expecting. His army had not lessened over the past seven years, in fact, they had gone through thorough training, and they had strengthened. The problem was, people in the territories closest to Delfeur -Delpha, Damen corrected him-, had started building their own militia, and slowly but assuredly gaining power. The Council was —balanced. Or something of the sorts, at least at plain sight. Both the total of people against the Peace treaty and who were more aligned with the Regent’s… perspective… as well as the people supporting Laurent, were tied. The Council had seemed somewhat satisfied with most of his proposals. The opposition sometimes opposed just to make noise. 

“Haven’t you thought that perhaps you are not exactly amicable with them?”, Damen interrupted him.

“That is not my problem”.

“Are you still telling them they’re too busy sucking each other’s cocks to think clearly?”

“Not with those words”.

“But close enough”.

In general, people had seen benefits to the treaty, but they were starting to wonder if it affected them more than it should have.

And then, Laurent said something that Damen was not expecting:

“The discontent started when Akielos announced the end of slavery”.

Oh.

Oh. 

“It has only worsened ever since”.

Fuck. 

“Veretians want their pets. And they are scared the barbaric thinking of Akielos that claims everyone should have the same possibilities is plain stupid. Now they are worried we might end it”.

Damen frowned. “Pets are different”. Awful, horrible, but at least they had access to some benefits. 

“Doesn’t make it less disgusting”.

“Perhaps if I showed them my scars, that might change their minds”.

“Or they might get sure they get reopened”.

Damen clenched his jaw. Laurent didn’t say anything else.

Damen hated the fact that he was right. He hated sometimes, he really did, the fact that Laurent had no filter. Seven years ago, he had gotten used to it. Now it was only a matter of time, and yet. 

It slightly felt like the wound was reopening.

And damn his fucking ability to read Damen’s mind even with such a small lighting because Laurent’s next words were: “I shouldn’t have said that”.

“No. You’re right”.

“No”, Laurent said, nonchalantly but a slight change in his voice.

“They would have loved it. A barbarian, a brute. The ruler of the enemy nation. For Veretians, it would have been just another exotic pleasure, to see me laying on the floor, bleeding myself to death, the worst physical pain. They would jerk off to it. Fuck right next to my body. Lovely”.

“Damen-”

Damen was breathing hard. It had been a while, a long, long while since he’d thought about them. And he didn’t feel anger, he hadn’t since he’d come to terms with it. Laurent had apologized, it was okay. Then why on Earth wasn’t it?

Why wasn’t it right then?

Those are not the scars you’re angry about, he thought.

A hesitant touch, feather-like. He felt it climbing slowly into the back of his hand, softly, so softly. A second, or an eternity later, that hesitant touch had turned into a firm hand covering his. And then, fingers wrapping against his own. And then, some sort of pain Damen hadn’t noticed that was there in the first place, eased.

Laurent’s voice was barely a murmur when he said, calmly, and incredibly softly. “You clench your fists so hard when you’re angry, your nails start peeling off your skin”.

Then the fingers were replaced by a small handkerchief, as Laurent cleaned a tiny trace of blood one of his nails had effectively created on his palm.

Damen had never noticed.

“You used to do that, seven years ago”.

Why the fuck do you care? How the fuck do you remember? Stop playing games with my head, stop opening those wounds, stop healing them, stop talking to me, stop touching me, stop whispering softly onto my ear, is it a ruse to convince me to join you? Is it truly you? Was it ever?

The handkerchief was gone and Laurent’s fingers were back on his palm, wrapping delicately as he inspected Damen’s palm.

Damen felt like his hand was burning. He went back to a question he had asked himself seven years ago: how could Laurent go from saying such a horrible thing to being this person so easily?

“I’m sorry about what I said”, Laurent murmured. “I’m sorry about what I did”.

“What exactly”, Damen replied, “are you apologizing for?”

Are you sorry you flogged me or are you sorry you let us go? Are you sorry I let us go? Was what he truly wanted to ask.

He couldn’t. 

“I thought it would feel better. I had dreamt of it, night after night after night. And then you were in pain, and I felt… pity. And I hated myself for it”.

“I forgave you seven years ago”, Damen replied easily. And he wasn’t lying.

Laurent looked up and finally stared at him, studying his expressions carefully. Damen kept his eyes fixed on him, unwavering. “Doesn’t look like it. And I don’t need your forgiveness”.

“Looks like you do”.

“Looks like you want me to”, Laurent retorted.

“I know you’re sorry. You told me so seven years ago. I told you I was sorry too. We were even then”.

“We are not even”.

“What does that mean?”

Laurent looked back down and moved his hand away. Damen’s hand fell back to his own lap with a thud. He hadn’t realized how much he had leaned into that touch, he had done it subconsciously. His skin wasn’t hurting anymore, it was tingling.

It was clear Laurent wasn’t going to reply.

Damen looked up and allowed himself a minute of honesty. After all, that was all he had left. “I don’t think-”, he started to say and then stopped himself, trying to make the thoughts that were meandering around his head make some sort of sense, of coherence. He cleared his throat and started over. “I don’t think those are the scars that need healing. Those scars are just marks. They are closed. Others have reopened”.

Laurent stared straight ahead, his face giving nothing away. That fucking composure. Damen hated it. Damen ached to see it crumble and shake. Damen wanted to see all of Laurent’s vulnerabilities all over again, not that stupid wall, that fucking wall it had taken him so long to tear down. He wanted all of it. 

All of it.

And yet, all he wanted to do as well was to run off to his horse and leave that place. As soon as he could. 

He gave himself another minute to calm down. Bury it. It had always worked. For seven years, that had been his coping mechanism. Whenever he woke up from that fucking dream, whenever the memories inebriated him, whenever he felt that stupid clench of his heart that made it slightly more difficult to breathe, whenever he was hit by the crushing, exhausting, exhilarating memory of Ravenel. Whenever he thought about the kiss. The “I am your slave” the “Friends? Is that what we are?”. Whenever, whenever, whenever.

Bury it. 

Give yourself a second to graze the thought. To be brought back to the memories and the smiles and the tranquility and the sense of rightness amidst the chaos and the guilt that he’d felt that one night.

And then, bury it.

And you’ll be alright.

It had always worked.

Of course, he hadn’t had to put it to test in front of Laurent. All of these past few days, he’d had to deal with it, but not with such force, such intensity as at this moment.

And yet, the technique remained the same. 

Bury it.

And so, he did.

“Akielos will have your back”, he said, changing the topic. His voice was firm. “I will summon Torgier and Vannes here, on a confidential basis. We will discuss it with them. We will have to discuss what it entails and explore with them exactly how involved they want to be. But you can count on us. You can count on our alliance. Of course we will have to find ways to disguise our involvement, or at least mitigate it, since Akielos’ decisions -my decisions, are apparently to blame for almost killing you. People might not take it happily. But you have my word. We don’t have to be friends, we don’t have to be close, it is part of the Treaty and I will respect it. Peace and stability are of the utmost importance for our kingdom, and that means protecting your government”.

Laurent studied the information silently, for a moment, still staring straight ahead. He nodded slowly. “Thank you. How are we going to convince the Council, though?”.

“I doubt we truly will. But I have an idea”.

Laurent turned to look at him, wondering. 

Damen shrugged. “I don’t just nod along”.

“I know. That’s why you became the commander of my troops. I hated you, but you were annoyingly analytical and strategic and I’m still trying to understand how”.

Damen stood up. “We will send the messenger tomorrow”.

“How do we know-”

“I will encode the message. And he is my most trusted messenger. It’s as good of an option as I can offer”.

“I don’t think they’ll be pleased to ride all those days towards Akielos and to return to their kingdoms just to come back to your wedding a couple of weeks later”.

“I know. I’ll offer them to stay here for as long as they want to. I suppose they will like to discuss other benefits and profits they can get from their good relationship with Akielos and Vere”.

“Lovely”.

“Nothing better than hosting a meeting for three prats who only want to get something from Akielos, to please them for something I have nothing to do with but that I was somehow dragged into. By you”.

“So what is your plan to convince the Council?”

“You’ll find out soon enough”, Damen replied, standing up and offering a hand to help Laurent.

Laurent slapped it away and stood up by himself. 

“I am coded to be certain none of your plans will work”.

“And yet I always managed to surprise you”.

That did shut Laurent up.

“Thank you”, he said again, as they mounted their horses. “For aiding me. Whatever the reason”.

“The reason is the Treaty. The reason is my kingdom’s welfare. The reason will always, always be Akielos”, Damen replied defensively.

A kingdom or this.

His kingdom, he supposed. 

Chapter 12

Notes:

I know I keep saying this but I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER!!!
So let me know what you think ❤️ hope you enjoy it ;) and thank you so so much for your comments and feedback on the story so far, every single comment makes my day <3

By the time they came back to the palace, it was almost four in the morning. And Damen felt… weird. Not good, not bad, just… different. And he didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

On the one hand, he had missed this so much. On the other hand, nostalgia was a powerful thing, and in those moments before Laurent ever came back, he had imagined what it would be like to do that again, what they used to do before. The closeness, the empathy, the friendship, the mutual trust.

Except none of them were there at the moment.

And so, his imagination had conjured something entirely different from what he was actually living, and he didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

But he wanted more of it.

He wanted to help Laurent. 

In an objective sense, it brought more stability to Akielos to help bring stability to Vere. But that was bullshit. 

He knew it was bullshit. And he supposed that Laurent knew that as well. Laurent seemed to know everything about him and it irked him so much, how did he still manage to do that after all that time? Meanwhile, for Damen, he was still a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. He didn’t understand anything. He just knew he could fuck up badly at any moment and that thought terrified him. 

So, in a selfish sense, he would do anything he could possibly do to make sure Laurent would be safe.

Not to mention… he might be to blame for this whole mess? Unwittingly?

Was he truly to blame? Or was this just another one of Laurent’s tactics to get Damen to do whatever he wanted? 

The mutual trust, that, had been broken, and Damen hated it but it was costing him to trust Laurent. More so than before. Because now they had their history, there were feelings linked to that history, and he knew Laurent had all the power to use them against him, and to not know for sure if he meant to do it or not was driving him crazy.

The problem was that Damen didn’t, couldn’t see a way out of this. He realized he would have to trust blindly and hope that Laurent wouldn’t destroy him when he could do it at any given moment.

He didn’t choose to trust, but he had to. 

It was long past dawn until he fell asleep. 

*****

The next morning he woke up with a plan and a resolution of sorts. And with a headache.

After breakfast, he walked towards Irina’s bedroom. She greeted him with a warm smile and welcomed him as if they hadn’t had a fight the day before. She was good at that. Damen liked that about her. 

He sat on her bed.

“You’re too serious”, she said.

He nodded. 

Then proceeded to tell her about Laurent’s situation. Explain it in complete detail. 

Except for a couple things he didn’t mention.

Like the fact they had spent the night before together, out of the palace. 

He did mention though, that the abolition of slavery was partly to blame for whatever has happening. She didn’t seem surprised, and listened intently as he explained everything, and the decision Laurent and him had come to together. 

The truth was, he trusted Irina with this information, and at the same time she was a useful ally considering Torgier would have to be summoned. This was the exact reason why their marriage had to be arranged, it was more valuable than ever to have Patras on their side, and to use it to convince them to help Vere.

She listened to him, pointed out a few things that might make the summoning more compelling for Patras, and said she would support them.

“I am not surprised”, she concluded as they finished their conversation. 

“What do you mean?”, Damen asked. 

“I mean… he has a reputation. Of being a bit of a stone cold asshole. So it doesn’t surprise me it has had its repercussions. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t done a great job at leading Vere… it’s just… I understand where all of it is coming from”.

“He’s…”, Damen rushed to reply, feeling the urgent need to defend Laurent. “He’s not like that…” 

He’s caring he’s loving he doesn’t show it but that’s who he is. He braids his horse’s mare when no one is watching, he’s teaching Eg about flowers and asks him not to call him a king, he cared so much about Nicaise, I think at some point he cared about me, he just cares so much about everything, so much that he has to hide it. And I’m to blame for that as well, because I killed what he loved the most in this world. I’m responsible for that. And I’m responsible for this mess too and I hate it because it’s only affecting him and meanwhile Akielos is doing alright and it doesn’t make sense because he is a wonderful ruler, because he cares.

He always has.

He didn’t say that.

Instead, he said: “He is not easy. But he is smart. No one could lead a kingdom better than him. That’s why I respect him”.

Why I love him.

“How can you respect him”, Irina started, “when he did that to you?”, she pointed at his back.

Damen swallowed. He was not in the mood for that conversation. He was never in the mood for that conversation and yet everyone seemed so intent on having it. He didn’t want to mention it, didn’t want to say it. 

“Irina, I won’t discuss that with you at the moment”, he could feel himself growing angrier by the minute.

“But-”

“No ‘but’. I killed his brother. I should be thankful he let me live. There’s a history behind that I won’t dwell on right now. I have told you everything you need to know. You have told me before that you trust my decisions. I’m asking you to trust me right now”.

She remained silent for a second. “Of course I believe you”, she murmured. “I do”.

Damen nodded. 

“It’s just”, she started and then stopped. He looked at her. “What?”

“I just feel like you haven’t told me the entire story”.

“You don’t have to know it”, Damen replied defensively. “It’s in the past”.

“Doesn’t feel like it”, she replied, standing up.

This conversation was threading on dangerous territory, so Damen chose to change the topic. It would do nothing to clear Irina’s suspicions, but it was the only thing he felt he could do at the moment. The last thing he wanted right now was to revisit his past with Laurent. Both the good things and the bad things.

“I will send the letters tomorrow. If there’s something you’d like to tell King Torgier, you can get to writing it before our messenger arrives”.

She nodded. 

Damen swallowed the anger he had been trying to repress, stood up, walked towards her and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Thank you”.

She didn’t seem exactly pleased with their conversation. As he was closing the door, he heard her reply: “You’re welcome, I suppose”.

********

That day, at the Council meeting, Damen announced his idea of hosting a summit for the four kingdoms. Of course he didn’t mention Laurent’s situation at all. He said that, since it was such a rarity the King of Vere had accepted to join them here, it was a good moment to have a joint summit with the rulers of the kingdoms to discuss new treaties and other matters of importance before the marriage. 

Laurent had been summoned to the meeting as well and he explained it was a big opportunity to strengthen their alliances and see how the other kingdoms felt about Vere and Akielos. In fact, his speech was compelling and straight to the point. So much so, that the Council that didn’t seem very keen on hearing him talk, ended up being convinced that it was a good idea.

Nik supported Damen, he made a couple of important arguments as to why it was a good idea and the Council agreed, for the most part. When it was time to vote on it, only one person opposed the motion:

Makedon.

Which was not a surprise at all. In fact, Damen had been expecting it. He had been planning on it. He half smiled. 

Laurent seemed quite pleased. It was their first small victory regarding the Council after weeks of tense meetings and in the end he would have to conquer them in order to get full support from Akielos, so this small victory was the starting point of what could be a major win. When the meeting was over, Damen nodded at Nik in thanks for having his back, for it had been of huge help. Nik nodded back, threw a glance at Laurent and rolled his eyes before leaving. 

Laurent smiled mischievously behind Nik’s back as soon as he walked out. Damen sighed loudly. “You look very… childish. Both of you”.

Laurent sat over one of the tables. “Good. That’s what I’m aiming for. If I act as an adult around him, I won’t annoy him half as much”.

Damen shook his head with a stupidly fond smile. He then pulled out a piece of paper and both him and Laurent started drafting the letter to send to Torgier and Vannes. In the letter to Vannes, Laurent asked her to summon directly the Empress. 

“We could also invite Halvik. She was cooperative and she has a lot of power in her own territory”, Damen added.

“What? So she can bring the entire clan and you can inbreed every single one of them? Don’t think so”, Laurent replied.

“You sound jealous”, Damen quipped. 

“You sound childish”, Laurent retorted.

The next day, the messenger arrived to pick up the letters. It would take him about a week and he was commanded to wait for a response, so it would be a couple of weeks in total. But the clock was ticking and there were other plans they had to execute.

Also, there was the small matter of the wedding, which was only a month away.

But he had other things to focus on, so Damen sent that thought to the very back of his mind. And he shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t, it was his wedding after all, but…

He had to admit whatever he was plotting with Laurent was far much more exciting and compelling than his own wedding.

And he supposed that was a bad thing.

******

That night was Makedon’s birthday and the timing could not have been better. Damen dressed up and asked the Palace to hold a dinner in his honor, but he had other plans. 

He went to Laurent’s chambers and knocked on the door. And knocked again. At the third knock, Laurent finally opened, looking regal, as always, but he had just taken a bath, for his hair was dripping wet, and it looked like he had dressed in a hurry. Damen couldn’t help but examine him up and down, taking the whole view in. 

“What?”, Laurent asked.

Damen swallowed, when his eyes met Laurent’s, they were unmoving, examining Damen’s face but giving nothing away. 

Damen cleared his throat. “May I come in?”, he asked.

Laurent sighed as he went to grab a towel. “You already are”.

Damen walked in and closed the door behind him, silently hoping him entering Laurent’s chambers would go unnoticed. Laurent stopped toweling his hair and looked at Damen expectantly. 

“Tonight is Makedon’s birthday”, Damen mentioned.

Laurent frowned, processing the information. “Shame. I didn’t get him a present”.

“Yes, you did”, Damen said, and he couldn’t stop the mischievous smile that drew itself on his face.

Realization hit Laurent. “That is your plan?”, he asked in disbelief. 

“A bottle of the best griva in the four kingdoms. And we will drink it together”.

Laurent groaned, almost against his will. Damen’s smile broadened. “May I object?”, Laurent asked.

“You may not”.

Laurent sat on the sofa, thinking. “I assume I have to be at my most charming”.

“You’re good at that”, Damen replied. “…Just thought I should warn you. We will host a dinner in his honor and you will announce your very special present”.

“He will think it’s poisoned”.

“And he will ask someone else to drink a bit and when nothing happens he will dig his claws into it. Trust me, I know him”.

Laurent sighed. “Fine”.

“Good luck”.

“To you too”.

“I’m not the one who needs to get onto his good graces”.

“You’ll be if he ever finds out you fucked me”, Laurent replied nonchalantly.

Damen didn’t fall to the ruse, he left the bottle of griva at the table next to the sofa and walked away.

*******

After dinner, Damen made a sign at Laurent with his face. Laurent actually stared at Damen with something akin to hatred in his eyes and stood up to announce his present to Makedon. Makedon actually grunted as soon as Laurent congratulated him and thanked him for his service, but his facial expressions transformed completely as Laurent raised the bottle of griva, revealing immediate interest. Damen smiled to himself. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Makedon stood up from his chair and walked towards Laurent -and the bottle of griva he was holding- eyeing them suspiciously. He looked at them seriously, in disbelief, a couple of tense seconds in which anybody could hear the drop of a pin. Laurent, however, seemed unaffected. He didn’t flinch, didn’t question Makedon at all, just met his eyes and rose his eyebrow, like daring him to drink, or not to drink the griva.

After a while, Makedon gave him the biggest, most feral smile, all teeth, and yelled: “Finally, a fucking good present”. He clapped Laurent on the shoulder and Damen was certain Laurent had to use a lot of his strength to keep his ground,  as he said: “And since you have given me the best present, I give you the advantage. You take the first sip, Your Honor”.

Damen hadn’t been wrong with his guess, then. 

Laurent took his empty glass of wine, which had never been filled to begin with, as he said, “I was saving the glass throughout dinner for this one moment”. Makedon opened the bottle and poured Laurent a rather impressing amount of griva. 

Damen frowned.

But Laurent seemed actually pleased as he took the griva to his mouth and downed it all in just one sip. More impressing even, he didn’t even flinch as he swallowed that disgusting thing. He kept the smile on his face and offered a glass to Makedon, who cracked in laughter, shook his head and said, “your drinking skills still impress me”, before downing his own glass. 

A group of brave -or stupid- attendees joined, including of course Damen, who was sitting in front of Laurent and Nik, who was sitting next to Damen. The first sip was, as expected, the most disgusting thing Damen had ever tried. Makedon seemed much more at ease and talked excitedly about some battles he’d lived alongside Theomedes. The first bottle was over quickly and Damen could tell that Makedon was warming up properly, so he announced. “You didn’t think Akielos would be left behind, do you?”, a minute later, another bottle of griva appeared. He turned to look at Laurent who for just a second looked like he was internally suffering before putting on the old facade. They drank that round. 

And the next.

And the next.

And the next bottle.

And the next round.

Damen already felt drunk by the time they were on the fifth round and called it quits but stayed there talking to them. Some minutes later, Nik fell asleep on his chair and Damen laughed as he shook him up and asked one of the servants to take him to his chambers. In fact, it took two servants to finally take him there. 

Makedon announced the next round. 

But everyone else stood up with whatever little strength they had left and walked away. Damen refused but stayed. 

Laurent accepted.

Makedon was pleased. 

And then the two of them started talking and Damen didn’t, or couldn’t pay attention to them anymore. But Laurent seemed engaged on the conversation and he talked eloquently, as if he was just on his second glass of griva. Damen felt himself nodding off but forced himself to stay awake. He didn’t want to leave Laurent alone on this.

Another round.

And Laurent drank. And Damen wondered how on Earth was he managing to do that. He flinched. 

They talked for about another half hour that felt like an eternity to Damen, and Makedon officially announced he was done. But he laughed at Laurent and they shook hands and hugged each other as if they were longtime friends. Makedon stood up slowly and managed to walk away, unsteadily but firmly enough. 

Damen looked at Laurent and he knew.

He couldn’t help but smile fondly at seeing Laurent’s flushed face. Laurent, who seemed very intent on examining his own hands and fingernails, as if staring at them for enough time would stop the dizziness. Then Damen realized Laurent wasn’t particularly staring at his hands, he was dozing off.

Damen laughed and stood up, feeling too dizzy himself, but with two glasses less of griva on him. He gently shook Laurent and whispered onto his ear, “come on, let’s get you to your room”.

Laurent simply nodded, which went to show just how drunk he truly was, it was as if when Makedon left, Laurent had lost all the composure he had worked so hard to keep whilst they talked. Laurent stood up and wrapped an arm around Damen.

Damen was immediately hit by the memory of that one time with the griva seven years ago, which had been so similar to this one moment, and he felt an incredibly odd sense of nostalgia, as if he wanted to just close his eyes and pretend they were seven years younger, they didn’t have a kingdom to reign, they were at a crossroads and yet they had one another, even though back then Laurent hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.

Not much had changed then.

So Damen didn’t dwell on it. He blamed it on the griva but he felt a hole so deep inside himself he chose to ignore it and he simply walked Laurent to his chambers. Laurent was unsteady and had to walk very slowly, often losing balance, but Damen did his utmost to be as solid as a rock to hold him there and stabilize him over and over again. Finally they arrived and Damen walked them in as quickly as he could, past Jord’s questioning glare and hoping no one else had noticed them walking in.

Laurent stopped in the middle of the living room and turned to look at Damen, his eyes fuzzy and a little bit lost when he whispered, “attend me”, as he extended his arms in expectation.

Damen felt as if someone had kicked him in the stomach. Those words… anything but those words. Memories made their way through his fuzzy brain with the little composure he had left and he thought of the slow untying of the laces, the hushed conversations, the back massages, how he could see Laurent’s exposed neck so close and how he ached to kiss it, touch it, to braid that hair.

He replied. “No”.

“For old times’ sake?”

“No”.

He couldn’t. He wanted to desperately, but he couldn’t.

Instead, he guided Laurent towards his bed, he slumped there ungraciously, the hair sticking to his face, Damen desperate to reach out and touch it, to see how those strands would look as he caressed them, softly.

Damen crouched to untie Laurent’s boots but that was it. Laurent simply examined him quietly, his face giving nothing away except for the fact he looked very drunk.

“I’ll leave a bucket right next to your bed, if you need it”, Damen said as he stood up, as professionally as he could manage. 

But a hand on his wrist stopped him. With force.

He turned back to find Laurent staring at him quizzically, a bit of awe and wonder written in his features.

“What?”, Damen asked softly.

A couple of candles were the only light Damen had to figure out Laurent’s facial expressions. But it was enough to see Laurent was asking him to be at eye level with him, so Damen crouched, ignoring the pain in his knees and his own unstable balance.

When they were finally facing each other, Laurent used his other hand to reach out and tuck a stranded curl out of Damen’s forehead. Softly and slowly, as if it was the most important task he’d ever done in his life. Damen simply observed him quietly, not daring to move an inch, wondering what the hell was going through Laurent’s mind.

Then Laurent’s hand moved from his curl towards his face, and slowly, so slowly, he caressed the side of Damen’s face, as if he was studying it, analyzing it. Finally, he cupped his cheek and stood there, still, simply looking into Damen’s eyes.

Damen was transfixed, feeling the rest of the world vanishing as they simply stared into each other’s eyes, neither daring to move an inch. Damen knew he couldn’t, oh but he wanted to, so desperately.

Laurent whispered: “you can stay here, if you want to”.

Damen’s instinct overcame reason and his hand cupped Laurent’s as it stood there, unmoving, over his face. “I can’t”, he replied.

Laurent didn’t say anything back, but he started moving his thumb to caress Damen’s face. “Of course you can’t. You’re getting married to someone else”.

Damen couldn’t breathe. He felt like he had to analyze those words, and he knew he would be back to them the next morning, turning them over and over on his head. But not at the moment. He sent those words to the very back of his brain.

They were silent, only their breathing speaking for themselves. Damen’s was faster, aching with anticipation. Anticipation of something that wouldn’t, couldn’t happen, especially when Laurent was like this. Oh but he wanted to. He really, really, wanted to.

Laurent moved his hand ever so slightly and his thumb traced Damen’s bottom lip, a featherlight touch which tickled, but also burned. Damen closed his eyes as Laurent softly traced the corner of his lip, studying it carefully and with dedication.

Damen allowed himself just the smallest thing, with the hand that was still covering Laurent’s, he guided it a little bit more towards his lip and pressed a featherlight kiss on Laurent’s palm. He just needed to feel Laurent’s skin on his lips, it was seductive, it was hypnotizing, it was everything he’d been dreaming of for the last seven years. He felt drunk but on entirely something else, as if the effects of the griva had faded and been replaced with something much more intense, much more compelling: desire.

Laurent simply stared as Damen placed the kiss on his hand, silently, focused.

A minute later, he whispered. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Damen nodded against his hand.

Laurent was quiet for a little while, as if he was conjuring the words in his head, making them make sense. Then he said:

“If I had gotten another night with you, I would have never let you go”. 

The words took a moment to land for Damen, he processed them. It took him a while but once they did, he felt as if all the air had been knocked out of his lungs. He struggled to get some air, so he stood up in a rush, loosing Laurent’s hold on him, and he walked towards the window because he needed to breathe and he couldn’t think and he couldn’t yearn and he couldn’t cry and he couldn’t hope and he couldn’t leave and he couldn’t stay and he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He stood by the window without knowing how long, he felt in a weird state of mind: not really certain if he had actually heard what he’d heard, but pretty certain he had, but also drunk and heavy-headed in the worst possible way.

And specially, the hole, the big ripping hole in his chest, was making itself known again.

When he turned towards the bed again, Laurent was deep asleep.

Damen looked at him, sleeping, and felt an impulse that was difficult to explain with words.

It was the culmination of the slow, painfully slow realization that there was no way out of this.

There was no possible universe in which he wouldn’t fall completely for Laurent. 

There was no possible way in which he could make himself get over him.

Sure, seven years had passed, and yet from the moment he set his eyes on Laurent once again, it was as if no time had passed at all. He had spent the last seven years convincing himself this was okay, even managing to go sometimes days or weeks without thinking about it until the dreams about Ravenel came back to flood him, and for moments, Damen thought he had managed to do it. Get over Laurent.

But as he stared at him he realized that it wasn’t quite the truth, it was as if his feelings had been dormant, put aside, only to return with a blunt, sheer force, one Damen couldn’t oppose to, no matter how hard he tried.

And the tragedy: he would have to live like this for the rest of his life.

Forcing himself to put his feelings to sleep only for them to reappear on his dreams.

He put a thin blanket over Laurent, placed a bucket next to him and sat on the couch in front of the bed, in case he would need him.

It took him a long time to finally get some sleep.

Chapter 13

Notes:

Thank you so much, once again for reading and following and commenting on this little one. You always make my day. Squishy hugs to you all <3

The first thing Damen heard when he woke up was a groan, and it wasn’t coming from him.

He couldn’t help the giggle that escaped from him.

He opened his eyes at the same time Laurent opened his, at the sound of Damen’s giggle. 

“I want to be dead”, was all Laurent said, his voice hoarse and his hair messy. 

Damen laughed. “But you were enjoying yourself so much last night…”, he joked.

Laurent blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust his eyes to the light, and then he frowned as he looked at Damen and sat up. “What are you doing here?”, his expression conveying a sense of alert. 

Damen sat up with another groan and stared at him. “Relax. Clearly nothing happened. You were too drunk to move, I brought you here, took your boots off and you collapsed”.

“And that was it”.

“And that was it”, Damen reaffirmed, knowing he was the worst liar in the world, but he was too hungover to deal with whatever the fuck had happened the night before and it seemed like Laurent was as well because he didn’t ask any further questions. 

It was silent for a while, before Laurent said simply: “I hate your plans”.

“This one worked, though”.

“It did. And I hate you for that as well”.

Damen smiled. “My pleasure to be of assistance”. 

He stood up and flexed his muscles a little bit before saying, “I’ll order us some breakfast”.

“Wait!”, Laurent said, “you’re in my bedroom. You clearly look… like you just woke up… and you’ll order us breakfast. Do you want the entire palace to think we’re fucking?”

Damen turned it over in his head before replying, “you know quite well that if we were fucking I wouldn’t look like I just woke up. And I wouldn’t be this dressed”.

A faint blush appeared in Laurent’s cheeks as he stood up with a sigh and walked past Damen, pushing him aside as he asked his guards for breakfast. 

Damen actually wanted to discuss with Laurent what he had talked with Makedon, so instead of going to his chambers to take a shower, he stood there and waited for breakfast. He was a specialist on making bad decisions when it came to Laurent.

Laurent sat back on his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly in pain and probably regretting every single decision he had made the night before. After a while in which they simply tried to handle their hungover the best they could, Damen spoke again: “So, what did you talk about with Makedon?”

Laurent rolled his eyes, clearly taking him more effort than usual. As they waited for breakfast, Laurent told him they’d talked about meaningless things, until Makedon got drunk enough -which was by the third shot- and started talking to Laurent about military tactics. Then he seemed to realize who he was talking to and shut himself down, to which Laurent replied that he had every reason not to trust him, but also that he needed to trust him. 

Why? Makedon had asked.

Because if things ever go to shit, you have us, Laurent replied. 

And that seemed to calm him down. 

Then, Laurent said, they talked for another while about other meaningless things -Damen was certain Laurent didn’t remember what it was, but didn’t dare to say it- and finally Makedon called it a night. 

“For which I’m thankful, for I wouldn’t have handled another sip of that shit without throwing up”, Laurent confessed, finishing his story.

Damen laughed and nodded. “Where do you take all that tolerance to griva out of? You never used to drink…”, he asked, knowing full well why he avoided to drink, except for…

Except for.

Laurent shrugged. “Force of will, I suppose. I will not lose the little ground I have gained over a glass of griva out of all those things. A glass of griva will not make me lose my kingdom”.

Then, breakfast arrived. Damen was famished, but Laurent didn’t want to touch his food. After finally convincing Laurent to at least have some fruit, Damen stood up, peeked out of the door and silently snook out.

When he took a shower and put on some decent clothes and felt like a proper human being, back at his chamber, Damen addressed the one thing he had been fighting hard to ignore the whole morning.

He sat by the window, with the same view he had had the night before, just when Laurent had said those words to him and he needed to think. The day was cloudy and a big storm was approaching, and Damen couldn’t help but feel like it was so representative of what was about to happen as he thought about what Laurent had said.

If I had gotten another night with you, I would have never let you go. 

What the actual… fuck?

What the actual fuck.

What did he fucking mean? What was he thinking, what was happening? 

Did Laurent mean that back then… seven years ago, he would have never let Damen go?

Did it mean that right then and there, if Laurent had gotten another night with him he wouldn’t let him go?

It didn’t make sense, Damen couldn’t wrap his head around that. Couldn’t think, couldn’t figure what to say, because he didn’t want to give himself hope.

People often spoke of the loss as the most painful thing, the worst thing to endure. And they are right. But, losing everything after holding onto hope? And figuring a thousand scenarios in his head and believe that somehow someway the stars will align and everything will be alright and life for once will make sense again and he’d just have to wait.

Only for it to never happen, to never come.

That’s another way of breaking your heart. The worst way, at least for Damen. 

Damen, who once, seven years ago, had daydreamed about the possibility of taking Laurent to his Summer Palace, to hold him by the hand, to not let go, to take a week off and just… be themselves, without pressure, without their kingdoms getting in the way, without any obstacles.

He had believed it was possible, once.

Not anymore.

For one thing was true: despite the fact his heart clenched and his head hurt and he felt as if little, annoying butterflies were flying around in his stomach as he stared at Laurent since he came back to the Palace at Ios, since they faced one another once again, Damen hadn’t held onto hope about something happening between them ever again. He didn’t allow himself to hope, for it was too dangerous a thing. 

Laurent had made it quite clear, in fact, when he affirmed that the reason why he was at Ios was to secure an alliance with Akielos, and there was nothing else laying underneath, and he hadn’t made a single move, hadn’t said a thing, hadn’t shown anything else but professionalism, mixed with an old and odd sense of camaraderie that they couldn’t help but have after they got to know each other so well all those years ago.

So no. He couldn’t hold onto hope. 

And he couldn’t believe in that, and he couldn’t bring that up to Laurent and he couldn’t have that conversation right then because he was one month away, even less than a month from getting fucking married. 

And it was fine. It was alright. It was his commitment, his compromise, and Laurent knew quite well Damen was too honorable to break that compromise to the option of a what if?

Even if that what if ? was Laurent himself.  

And did he even want that? Honestly? Did he want to put himself through all of that again after all the pain it had caused him? Because he once had that hope and he kissed Laurent and they made love and Damen surrendered to all of it, finally quelled and gave in to his feelings and the next morning he woke up with the biggest smile on his face and allowed himself to dream about the possibility of a future with Laurent but then Laurent was gone, and he knew all the time who he was and the lies got in the way but so did the truths, and the love found its way in but so did the hatred and so did the pain and so did the distrust and finally that was what eventually pulled them apart, because then each got their own kingdom, but lost one another, and didn’t chase one another. And Damen knew it was because Laurent had never forgiven him, it made sense, how could he, after all? After Damen had killed what he loved the most in the world? How did he even dare to dream of a future with the man he’d hurt beyond repair when he was just a child, how could he even believe that was a possibility?

But then,

Laurent said that.

He did. 

He was the one who said it, not Damen, because it was a given, it was obvious, and Damen knew Laurent knew it: he knew that back then, Damen would have given everything to have the possibility of a future with Laurent.

But from Laurent… it was pretty clear he didn’t.

And Damen couldn’t blame him.

Except, at the moment, as he considered that thought, he couldn’t help not to. 

If he would have gotten another night with him and he would have never let him go, why the fuck did he let him go in the first place?

They both let each other go. It was both their faults. But Damen had a reason to. 

He was convinced Laurent hated him, and couldn’t find it in himself to forgive him, and that first encounter they had here at Ios only seemed to confirm it, when Laurent walked into the Palace and whispered ‘adequate’, the one word that had come out of his mouth the first time they made love and that he was now throwing at him as if it was some stupid…meaningless word, another joke, another stupidity. 

Then why didn’t Laurent told him so? Back then. Just a word, a gesture, anything, anything and Damen would have allowed himself to hold onto the smallest spark of hope he possibly could.

Instead, in a short period of time, Damen lost his dad, his brother, and the man he had irreparably fallen for. 

And he was the loneliest he had ever been. And then he had gone through the most difficult breakup he had ever gone through. 

Breaking up from a what if. 

Going from everything when he was at Ios, to nothing when he was shipped to Vere, then to everything during that one night with Laurent, to nothing when his father died, to a kingdom, and then… just a kingdom. Nothing else.

Then Eg was born and life became just a little bit bearable.

But Damen couldn’t help but think about that what if. What if he and Laurent had stayed together?

Damen wouldn’t have let go either.

Ever.

But that was how he felt seven years ago, not anymore. 

Not anymore. 

Now there was everything at stake, and he was engaged and he had been forced to choose his kingdom rather than the love of his life. And that was what he would continue to do so. 

Always his kingdom first. And marrying Irina was the right thing for his kingdom and the right thing for him and he would be okay. 

So why why did Laurent have to say that? Of all the fucking things? And why did he only say it because he was drunk? 

A sudden rage that seemed to be accumulating over and over and over during those weeks made a reappearance, with more intensity than ever. And Damen couldn’t hold it back, he was so angry. So fucking angry. Because what the fuck was wrong with Laurent? How dare he say those things when Damen had done everything in his power to get over him? When it was the most difficult thing he had ever done? When…

When he had to rid himself of all hope.

When he had finally allowed himself to move on.

He would not allow those words to have the same power over him, he decided. He had granted Laurent far too much power over his life since the moment he arrived to Vere as a slave. 

Not anymore.

They were kings, joined only by an unstable but necessary alliance. And that was it. 

And Damen would see that alliance through. And that was it.

And he would get married to someone else. And that was it. 

You can stay here, if you want to. 

He shook his head and clenched his teeth. When he opened his eyes, the sun was a bit higher in the sky, which meant that a long time had passed and he hadn’t even realized.

When he looked down, he realized his nails had caused an injury on his palm, from clenching them so hard. 

He hadn’t noticed he was clenching them in the first place. And as he loosened the hold, he couldn’t help but bring his mind back to that night, some nights ago, when Laurent had touched him most delicately and how much he had ached for that touch, as if he’d been waiting for it his whole life.

And the night before, as Damen took Laurent’s hand and placed a kiss on the palm as if he had been waiting for it his whole life. 

And he hated the fact that now Laurent was tainting every single bit of normalcy, every single aspect of his daily life, the one he’d worked so hard to build after Laurent had left it in shambles. And he couldn’t help but wonder how long was it going to take him to recover from it this time, to let go.

Because if the next seven years were to be anything even remotely similar to the past seven well…

That was a life he did not want to live. 

By the time the next council meeting came, Damen had come to the determination that he will not hold onto any what if this time.

Not anymore.

******

That afternoon the Council meeting was quick, probably because most of the Council was very hungover. Laurent, thankfully, had not been there, which was logical, he only joined them once or twice a week, always with previous notice, and yet, Damen felt very lucky this time had not been one of them.

He could not have such luck for long though.

And by the time the night came, he had to host dinner for everyone. Which of course included Laurent. And he didn’t have the patience for it, but he had to, so he just had to go there and get it done. 

He went in arm in arm with Irina. He came to pick her up and as she opened the door to her chambers he faked a smile and she bent over in laughter at seeing his hungover face. “You’re miserable”, she said between laughter.

You have no idea how much, Damen didn’t reply. 

He determinedly ignored Laurent throughout dinner. He proposed a toast and everyone seemed in a good mood but not once did he risk a glance at Laurent, so he couldn’t tell if Laurent was looking at him or not. When he spoke, he only talked to Irina, for she was the only person he could actually stomach at the moment, and the moment he saw the chance, once dinner was over and everyone started scattering around the room and talking animatedly, Damen excused himself, placed a kiss on Irina’s cheek and walked out of the room, saying he was very tired and hungover, which was true. 

But actually, he couldn’t bear to go back to his chamber at the moment, and so he chose to walk into the gardens to get some air. They were completely empty as everyone in the palace seemed to be on the dinner room. 

And so, he stood there, trying to calm himself down, desperately wishing he had a glass of wine to drink but knowing it was a very poor decision to make at the moment. 

Someone cleared his throat behind him and Damen closed his eyes, wondering how did he even fucking recognize that fucking small detail and place from whom it had come from. How was it even possible?

“I have to admit, your plan was awful, but incredibly successful. Makedon just approached me and talked to me as if we were old friends”, Laurent said as he walked towards him. 

Damen didn’t look at him. Because the smell of that expensive mix of wood and herbs and flowers he used on his skin was already intoxicating enough, a smell so closely associated with Laurent, it seemed like Damen’s brain went in overdrive without him even wanting to. It reacted to him so suddenly and so intensely Damen was almost unable to stop it.

Almost.

He didn’t look. Didn’t reply. 

“So, thank you for that”, Laurent said, turning to look at him, an easy-going smile on his face as the wind played with his hair.

Damen did everything in his power to not turn to look back. To not reply.

Of course, Laurent noticed immediately. “Are you alright?”, he asked, softly.

“I’m fine”, Damen replied sharply.

“Are you certain?”, Laurent prodded, “I know you. You don’t look alright”.

Oh. 

And in that moment, Damen felt something within him snapping breaking open falling apart.

He turned to look at Laurent and did the most he could to keep his voice at a low volume as he said, with as much venom as he could muster: “You know the me from seven years ago. Why do you keep saying that you know me, when we have hardly exchanged some words for the past seven years? You don’t know me. I don’t know you. The Damianos that you knew was only the shell of the Damianos I am now. A shallow, naive, stupid, hopeful idiot who has nothing to do with the king you are facing now. Don’t claim to know me. You know nothing. You. Know. Nothing”.

He was clenching his fists. He didn’t care. His heart was beating so fast and he felt his face growing very hot with a sudden fit of rage that he couldn’t put a stop to, even if he wanted to. 

He didn’t want to, though. 

“You arrive to my kingdom, after you ignored my attempts at contact, and you come here unprompted six weeks before my wedding to ask me to get involved in a problem I have no reason to be involved in, and you claim to know me. And you think you can predict how I will act and what I will say and what I will do. But you’re wrong. You can predict how I would have reacted seven years ago, not now, Laurent. Not now. So kindly, shut the fuck up”.

Damen turned back and breathed hard through his nostrils. Laurent gave nothing away as he exploded in front of him. His expression didn’t change and he was silent, awfully silent. 

A minute or so passed, before Laurent spoke and said, eerily sharply, but incredibly composed: “What did I say last night?”.

Damen didn’t reply. He closed his eyes and simply kept breathing loudly.

“Damianos”, Laurent repeated, “what the fuck did I say last night?”

Damen fully turned towards him. Laurent was studying him carefully but without giving anything away. He wanted to hurt Laurent, he was clouded by his anger and perhaps a side of him told him it was stupid to be this angry, told him it was a bad idea to say it, oh but a much more all encompassing side was begging to say it all. “You know? I used to think for the past seven years that you had always regretted that one night in Ravenel. That you hated me for it and that you couldn’t ever forgive me for that”. He walked a step closer, then another. He stopped. “Now I realize that the only thing you regret is that you didn’t get one more”.

Laurent was silent but he swallowed and a faint blush appeared in his face, but he didn’t break eye contact with Damen. He said nothing.

Damen observed him with something akin to delight, but more like he was really enjoying to be getting on his nerves at the moment.

“You pretend to be so mysterious and yet you are so transparent, at least to me. Your face gave you away right now. So I’m right”.

Laurent was still expressionless as he replied: “both things can be true at the same time. Doesn’t mean they are true now”.

Damen nodded. Finally, he said: “Then why did you feel the need to say them last night?”

“And why are you getting so riled up about something I said whilst drunk? Why does it affect you so much?”

“Because it’s the only facet of you I can trust!”, he replied, almost yelling but remembering they were in an open space and could be heard at any minute. “The only side of you that at least attempts to be honest”.

“I am being honest to you. As a king is to another king”.

“We are not talking here as kings, Laurent! I’m talking to you as…”, he couldn’t find the word.

“As what? As a former slave? Friend? Lover? Traitor? Prince-killer?”

That only made it worse. Right at that moment, it was meant to sting. Laurent was an expert at that and he had succeeded. Because it was true and it would never stop being true and it was the only reminder he needed to understand why they were right then and there. He recoiled. Swallowed. Breathed hard. Laurent was angry now, too.

Damen’s voice was low when he replied. “Yes. As all of those. As the only person who has cracked through every single one of your carefully constructed, sturdy walls”.

Laurent was silent.

“As the only person who-”. He didn’t allow himself to continue. “As the only person”, he sentenced. 

As the only person who loved you, understood you, as the only person with whom you could be you, unapologetically you, as the only person who was not afraid to stand up to you.

As the only person who would have given everything, everything for you.

“I’m done. We’re done. Whatever this - this, ever was, it’s done”, Damen said, defeatedly, his anger replaced by a deep, deep feeling of sadness.

I would have never let you go.

And yet, for Damen it was easier to say goodbye rather than face that. Deal with that. He couldn’t. It was too painful. 

He didn’t want to deal with that, any of that. He didn’t want to deal with Laurent. 

He didn’t want anything. 

He wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear until Laurent was gone. 

“Wonderful”, Laurent whispered back, as he walked past Damen, his shoulder hitting Damen’s. “As you wish, King Damianos”.

And with that, he walked away. 

Notes:

DON'T HATE ME DON'T HATE ME DON'T HATE ME. This was necessary, I promise!!! it has a point! i know you all want to kill me now and perhaps it is not what you expected but i can promise you it will get better and it will be worth it? <3 sorry and ilu and please don't hate me! see you soon x

Chapter 14

Notes:

Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter xx

The next week went by in the blink of an eye, and at the same time it was excruciatingly, painfully slow. Damen was keenly aware of the fact his wedding was approaching, and coming closer, and coming closer. 

And he was unable to put a stop to it.

He ignored Laurent, completely. Their relationship was strictly professional and nothing else, and even then, it was strictly professional only when they had to address one another. Otherwise, Damen would avoid all contact.

It was for the best, he told himself for the thousandth time.

It didn’t feel like it, though.

To say he was heartbroken was… perhaps too bold of a statement. No, he wasn’t heartbroken, not technically… he was… resigned.

Resigned to his own fate, resigned to what had been bestowed upon him, to a choice that had never been a choice nor had it been his to make, resigned to a lifetime of… 

Not much.

That was it. 

His life would be average. Normal. 

And then he would eventually die.

And he was keenly aware of the fact Irina deserved so much better than to have next to her a man who had resigned to a lifetime together with her. He knew it, but the truth was, he didn’t see a way out.

He didn’t see a way out in which they could be satisfied. 

They had agreed upon this knowing full well neither was in love. It was an agreement and it could have been so much worse. But that was it. After some months they had developed some affection and mutual trust in one another, and it was okay. But it wasn’t love, at least not in that way.

And she deserved so much better. But this was what she had chosen, and also what had been chosen for her, and he would try and spend the rest of his lifetime attempting to make it bearable for her, and he was certain she would do the same too.

It would be alright.

In a couple of weeks Laurent would leave and his kingdom would stabilize and they won’t need one another anymore and it would be okay. They would cross paths once every couple of years and greet each other and that would be it, and whatever had happened, their whole story, everything they once were, well that would only be a distant, long-forgotten memory.

It was okay.

Damen had finally made a choice that was entirely and completely his. 

To get over Laurent. No matter what. 

And that was what he would do. 

*****

During that weekend, Damen talked to Eg about finally going to the beach together. It had been a while and Damen had been so focused on the whole mess surrounding his life that he hadn’t spent much time with him and it was time to fix that. And so, the next morning, Damen drew the blueprint of a castle and went to pick up Eg and promised Jokaste he would take care of him and they walked together to the beach.

Throughout the whole 10 minute walk to the beach, Eg wouldn’t stop talking, about his new tutor, their new classes, his new friends, how exciting it was, how he had learnt to read and how he liked some myths more than others. There were a couple that scared him as well.

Damen listened attentively and added a couple comments. He didn’t, couldn’t let go of his hand. And he felt better. So much better.

He smiled as Eg kept going on about his wrestling class and said he didn’t particularly like wrestling and Damen stopped in his tracks. “What?”, he asked, surprised. 

Eg shrugged. “I like books more”.

Oh no.

Damen frowned. “You don’t like fighting?”

“What’s the point, uncle Damen? It’s so… silly…people say they’re winners, when all they do is throwing someone to the ground and hurting them. I don’t see why they are winners. They are savages”.

“But you like watching the okton!”

“I like watching you in the okton, because you always win!”

“And you think I’m a savage for that?”

“Yes”, Eg replied, good-heartedly, “but then you put on your olive crown and your big red cape and you look like… a hero”.

Damen smiled. “I’m not a hero”, he replied.

“You are”.

“No, you are”.

Eg frowned. “What’s my power?”

“You saved me”.

“How so?”

“You see, you have a power that most people don’t have, it’s quite rare. Usually, if you want to become a hero, you have to be like Hercules. You complete difficult labors and people admire you and remember you for that. That’s what I do with the okton. But then, there are other people who were born with a natural power. They are gifted, from the moment they open their eyes. And you are one of those people. You don’t have to complete difficult tasks, don’t have to be the strongest, nor have to throw your friends to the ground to prove your worth. You smile and the world becomes a better place. Here, I’ll prove it: smile”.

Eg gave him a wide-toothed smile. Damen had plugged a flower from its stem and kept it hidden in his palm. As soon as Eg smiled, Damen opened it and said: “Look! Your power made this flower bloom right in my hand!”

Eg gasped in surprise, and examined it carefully. “It’s a moonflower!!”, he said with excitement: “Oh! I made a moonflower appear in your hand!”

Then he considered it for a moment and said: “NO!!! You can’t touch moonflowers, uncle Damen!! They’re dangerous!”, he grabbed him by the wrist and ran with him towards the sea. “Wash it!! Quickly!”

Damen frowned. “What?”

“They are dangerous! Laurent taught me, said I should not touch them, just look at them as they grow on our walls”, his face grew worried, “and now you touched it… oh no…”, he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

Damen had to admit he was a little bit at a loss, and actually, his main thought was: “did the fucking flower I took poison me?”, as he washed his hands on the sea. 

Then Eg looked towards the beach and jumped up. “Laurent!!!”, he called, “come quickly!”

What?

Laurent was there, at the beach. Either that or the poison was doing its job and Damen was actually hallucinating. 

Laurent with his regal clothing looked like he belonged anywhere but at the beach. But he had ditched the jacket for just a while blouse that seemed to thread with the wind. It looked wonderful on him. Damen tried not to stare. He really did.

Some seconds later, Laurent was there and Eg was screaming furiously at him. “Uncle Damen touched a moonflower and what if it hurts him? I’m washing his hand but I don’t know what to do!”

Laurent looked at Damen’s hand seriously, considering it. “Where’s the flower?”

Eg pointed at a small white patch on the sand and Laurent walked towards it, crouched and studied it carefully for a while, then he returned to Eg with a smile on his face: “Eg! That’s not a moonflower! That’s a baby daisy! They look like that when they’re just born!”

Eg frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Of course!”, he exclaimed, and went to grab it. He brought it to Eg: “Remember moonflowers? They have pointed petals, whereas daisies are more curved, this is a tiny one, but you can see the borders are more round, see?”

Eg looked at it copiously and finally nodded. “So my uncle will be okay?”

“He will be okay”, Laurent said, as if Damen was not present right then with them. 

 Eg exhaled and smiled. “He was showing me my power”, he told Laurent.

Laurent rose an eyebrow. “What’s your power?”, he asked, with interest. 

“When I smile, I make baby daisies grow. I thought it was moonflowers and for a moment I thought I was one of the bad men in the books we read. But if it is a baby daisy, then I’m a hero”.

Laurent smiled fondly at him. “It’s a baby daisy. So you are definitely a hero. And you have a great power”.

“What’s your power?”, Eg asked him.

Laurent frowned and considered it for a second. Then he shrugged. “I still don’t know it yet. Some men are born without powers. Maybe I’m one of those”.

Eg shook his head. “No. You have the power to have your eyes look the same color as the sea”.

Laurent’s smile widened into a grin. “That’s a great power. A little useless, but a great power”.

“No. It’s not useless. It’s like the sea. You make everything prettier”, Eg said excitedly.

He has a point, Damen thought.

Laurent then turned to Damen and his smile faded once again. He asked: “What is your uncle’s?”

“He makes olive crowns appear in his head”, Eg replied. 

Damen smiled. “You know that is because I win the competitions in the sports you don’t like, right?”

Eg shrugged. “Making olive crowns appear in your head is a prettier power than throwing people to the ground”.

Laurent giggled at that and Damen wanted to kill him.

Eg took Damen’s hand and examined it carefully, checking for any redness or swelling, before grabbing it and pulling him towards the beach. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed Laurent’s. “Can we build the castle now?”, he asked. 

Damen nodded. Carefully ignoring Laurent’s stare. He knew if he stared, right at that moment, he would regret it. 

Laurent replied, a little hesitantly. “Eg… I have to go back to the palace”.

Eg’s expression fell down. “No! Why?”

“I have loads of work to do. I’m a king, remember?”

“But this week-”

“This week I took a lot of time off to spend it with you here at the beach. I have much catching up to do”.

“But-”, Eg started and Damen stopped him.

“You can stay here. If you want. It’s okay. We’ll catch up on work later”, Damen said, directly addressing Laurent.

He didn’t know why he had said it. In fact, he shouldn’t have said it. He was well aware that Laurent had said it just to avoid the awkwardness between them and honestly Damen couldn’t blame him. But also, it was fascinating to see this facet of Laurent and he shouldn’t, but… he was curious. He really was.

Laurent looked back at Damen and his expressions hardened, in comparison to how he had been looking at Eg before. He was angry, then, Damen could tell. He didn’t flinch below his gaze. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Yes. I’ll help you build the castle”.

Eg jumped excitedly and ran towards the beach, still holding onto Damen and Laurent’s hands. 

Damen had brought the blueprint he had made of the castle and he opened it over the sand. Eg examined it carefully. He heard Laurent scoffing behind his back but chose to ignore him, he wouldn’t fall to the ruse. 

He divided the tasks: Eg would build the castle, Laurent would be in charge of getting the water to make sure the sand would still be wet and sticky, Damen would gather the sand. They started working, neither of them speaking, as if it was the most important task they would ever achieve. 

Damen felt oddly at peace whilst doing this. Just being by Eg’s side made everything better, it almost made him forget about the fact Laurent was also there. Almost. 

When they finished, the castle… did not look good. It was actually awful, and the side of one of the towers collapsed and it was shapeless and the three of them stared at it silently disappointed. That until Eg cracked in laughter and hugged Damen’s leg, not letting go, whilst saying: “you are a very bad castle builder, uncle Damen”.

Damen laughed and crouched in front of him. “What about you?”, he asked, his finger touching the tip of Eg’s nose. “You are the one who built it, I only drew it!”

“You are a very bad castle drawer”, said Eg, still laughing. Damen laughed along with him and ruffled his hair. When he looked up, Laurent was simply staring at the two of them, silently, quietly, as if he was doing everything in his power to not ruin the moment. He stood up and he met Laurent’s eyes. This time, there was no animosity behind them, for neither of them. 

They simply stared at one another fixedly. In that moment, Damen felt something he couldn’t quite put into words. So he focused on examining Laurent’s face. It was already a bit sunburnt, the wind was making strands of his hair stick to his face and his eyes were truly the color of the ocean. And he looked so beautiful. 

Eg was absolutely right. He made everything prettier, just by existing. 

He wished he could know what Laurent was thinking right at that moment. 

Damen felt a tug on his chiton and looked down to see Eg looking at him curiously. He cleared his throat. “Yes?”

“Can I go for a swim, uncle Damen?”

Damen crouched again. “Of course, but be careful. I’ll keep an eye on you from here”.

Eg nodded and ran towards the sea. Damen was glad he had a distraction to focus on because he still felt like the blue of Laurent’s eyes was still seared into his brain. He felt like that night, when he would fall asleep, he would see blue. Everywhere. Absorbing, controlling, intense, beautiful, enticing, inescapable. Everywhere. 

No dreams. Just blue. 

He sat on the sand, right next to the castle and stared at Eg from afar. For such a young age, Eg was incredibly good at swimming, something Damen supposed he had inherited from his father, who was also very skilled at swimming. Damen had taught Eg from a very young age as well, and he loved it. 

He smiled with a certain sense of nostalgia. It reminded him of Kastor, inevitably. Of the good side of Kastor, if there had ever been such a thing. Death worked in mysterious ways: it altered all the memories that one might have of a person. Sometimes for the worse, mostly for the better. And sometimes Damen was transported back to the good memories, to when they played and they built sandcastles as little kids and when they swam and when they laughed and yet Damen couldn’t help but wonder if it had all happened like that or if it was just a lie his brain told itself so he would remember his brother as something more than a loser and a traitor and a piece of shit.

He wondered if Laurent went through the same thing, when he thought about his uncle. And hoped, deep inside, it wasn’t the case.

A minute later, he saw from the corner of his eye that Laurent was sitting next to him, his gaze fixed on the ocean and on Eg. Both of them simply stared at Eg and from that perspective, Damen couldn’t tell how Laurent was feeling, how he was holding himself, he was giving nothing away. As always.

The silence was not uncomfortable, actually. In fact, it felt oddly comfortable, it felt almost too nice, almost too good. Almost. Damen was quite aware that Laurent was not going to break it, so he chose to, instead. It didn’t make sense to give him the ice treatment when everything about Laurent was made of ice.

“Why did you come here?”, he asked, genuinely curious.

Laurent kept his eyes fixed on the ocean ahead of them. “Eg has been asking me to join him at the beach every afternoon for the last week. I arrived to his chambers looking for him but one of the guards told me he had already left. I have to admit I was… slightly worried he might have come here alone and I rushed as fast as I could. Didn’t expect to find you here”.

“Why are you doing this? Why do you make him care for you if-”

If you’re not coming back, he didn’t say.

Laurent cleared his throat. “Didn’t want him to be alone”.

“He’s not alone”, Damen felt the need to respond, defensively.

“Then why did he come to me?”

Damen shrugged. “He likes you. He was looking for you from the moment you arrived, he was curious about who you were. He’s so used to seeing new people and yet he saw something different in you”.

Laurent was silent. Damen could tell a million reasons why Eg had chosen to speak to Laurent of all people, but he refused to speak them aloud, but he understood, he truly did.

“He reminds me of-”, Damen started to say.

“Yes. Of Nicaise”.

“No. Of you”.

Laurent didn’t ask Damen to elaborate, but he chose to do it, anyway. 

“I think this is what you were like when you were younger, so eager to see the world, to get to know how it works. So thirsty for knowledge, so curious, so at ease. He’s compassionate and kind but he doesn’t show it to everybody, and he cares so fucking much about everything, everyone”, he cleared his throat, “he reminds me of you. And what I took away from you”.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes. Finally, Laurent broke the silence. “He deserves to have someone to confide in. Someone who will hold his hand and help him explore that world”, he said, very quietly.

“He does. And I’m trying my utmost to be that person. But I’m thankful that you have been here for him, when I haven’t”, Damen said, with honesty. 

“I’m glad he has a family”.

“He is my family. He is all I have left”.

Laurent nodded. Still looking ahead. “It can get lonely, at the top”, was all he said.

Damen had to ask. “Do you-”, he swallowed, “do you have anyone you can confide in?”

Laurent shrugged. “I have my council”.

“Do you have friends?”

“You might call them that. I have Jord, Lazar…”

Damen nodded. “And… what about family?”

“I don’t have one”.

“I know that. Do you… want that in the future?”

“My line ends with me”, Laurent replied determinedly.

Damen nodded, still looking ahead. They had been talking for a while and still they hadn’t looked at one another. That sort of… avoidance… gave them both a chance to open themselves without feeling too exposed, without giving away too much. Damen knew that he should be angry, but at the moment he wasn’t, not really, he was just very, very hurt, and hurting for Laurent as well.

“Do you miss him?”, he heard Laurent asking, just a little louder than a whisper. 

Damen frowned. “Who?”

“Your brother”.

Damen sighed. What a loaded question. He responded with as much honesty as he could: “I do. I miss him a lot. I miss the idea of him that I used to have. I trusted him and admired him so much. I didn’t think he would ever, ever hurt me. I never imagined, never even considered the idea that he might do something…”, he swallowed, his memory burdened with the pain and the heartache and… “but I did my process of grief. I grieved him every single night in Vere. I grieved him before he died. The person who died that night was no longer my brother. He was my enemy, he wanted to kill me. And you saved me”.

“I took away the only family you had left”, was all Laurent said.

“Did you think the same way about your uncle?”, Damen asked with all honesty. “When he died, was he truly the only family you had left?”

Laurent was quiet for a long moment, so long that Damen wondered if he had said the right thing, if he had fucked up. “He was not. He was a monster”.

Damen nodded, honestly feeling a little bit of relief at hearing Laurent saying those words. “There you have it. You didn’t take away the only family I had left. I didn’t have any family left. It gets lonely, at the top”.

And it hurt how much that was true. But he couldn’t even begin to understand how true it was for Laurent. Laurent who lost his brother, who didn’t allow himself to trust anyone else because he had been betrayed over and over again, Laurent who had placed his trust in Damen of all people, Laurent who had… no one else. 

Damen’s heart ached with the realization of it. If he felt lonely sometimes, at least he had Nik who’d roll his eyes at whatever idea he would propose, Eg to take him to build sand castles, Jokaste to distrust, and now Irina to confide in.

Laurent had… no one.

Laurent was fighting a battle alone, with no family, few friends, very few people who actually cared about him. And yet, if something happened to him, the treaty would be destroyed, Vere would fall into uncertainty and Damen… wouldn’t recover. He was so incredibly valuable, so incredibly important, and yet, so incredibly lonely. 

Perhaps seven years had passed. Perhaps they were complete strangers to one another, and yet Damen was convinced of one thing: Laurent didn’t deserve to be alone. Laurent deserved to be cherished and loved. Laurent deserved to have someone he could place his trust in wholeheartedly. Because for everyone else he was a stone cold bitch, for Damen, he was the one who had taught Eg about the dangers of moonflowers and how to spot a flower as it bloomed. He had asked Eg to stop calling him a king and just refer to him as Laurent. His kingdom was in peril because he wanted something as simple as to have equal rights for all. 

And he had saved Damen, in so many ways. 

The lingering anger that Damen had in himself was still there, but somehow the feeling of utter sadness as he thought of what the last seven years had been like for Laurent was all encompassing. Laurent deserved so much. So much.

He cleared his throat. “I’m certain he’ll want to see you again. When you’re gone. He could come… visit you, someday”.

“He’s too young for Vere”.

Damen was silent, trying to understand what Laurent meant by that, but of course he understood. The regent might be dead, but the whole system that allowed him to prey on young kids, well, that hadn’t been destroyed quite yet. 

“…But I would like to see him again”, Laurent replied.

“You’re welcome here anytime”.

Laurent scoffed. “Am I?”

“Yes”, Damen replied with absolute certainty, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “I know this is hard to believe for you, but I consider you my ally. My-”

Everything.

“-My friend”.

Finally, Laurent turned to look at him. Damen did so too. Laurent’s face didn’t give anything away, and yet his eyes were searching, as if he was trying to understand whether he should truly trust Damen or not. Damen was undeterred. “I know I haven’t given you reasons to believe it so, but I would like to rebuild that trust we once had. You can trust me. You can”.

“I-”, Laurent started, looked back at the ocean, then back at Damen. “I appreciate that. I do. But I don’t think I can come back here”.

Why? Damen was desperate to ask. 

And yet, his mind produced another reply altogether. “Then I’ll come to you”.

Laurent looked taken aback for a moment. He frowned and shook his head, as if he was trying to understand what Damen meant. 

“And I’ll bring Eg along”.

Laurent nodded and his gaze went back to the ocean. “You claim I don’t know you. And yet, from what I’ve seen, not much has changed from the man I knew seven years ago.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Laurent shrugged. “It’s just a thing”.

“You’re still a mystery to me. And yet-”

Laurent turned to look at him.

“Sometimes I feel like those years haven’t passed and we’re still plotting together at some shabby uncomfortable camp”.

Laurent smiled. “And then we’ll have to share a bed and you will take the whole space?”

Damen shrugged good-naturedly. “It’s not my fault the Veretian tents are so small!”

“They have a normal size. It’s not our fault you’re so monumental you take all the  space that’s available”.

Damen laughed. Laurent’s eyes lit up, and for the first time in a long time, Damen swore he could see that that smile was actually, finally reaching his eyes. 

I miss it. Damen didn’t say.

I miss you so fucking much it hurts. 

Do you miss me?

He didn’t dare ask. 

Laurent did speak up. “I don’t miss the smell of horse”.

Damen cracked in laughter, unable to help himself. “I don’t miss the Veretian clothes”.

“I do miss some of those nights. When we had nothing to lose. When all we had was… one another, and that was enough”.

“I…”- Damen didn’t get to finish his thought, for Eg approached them claiming he was tired and wanted to go to sleep. 

Damen closed his eyes and nodded, standing up and offering a hand for him to hold. Eg, however, held onto Laurent’s as well, and they came back to the palace like that, with Damen at one side and Laurent at the other.

Chapter 15

Notes:

I know I took long to update and I'm sorry but... life got in the way and I do mean it! (you'll understand when you read the chapter ;)) anyways... i hope you enjoy... i hope you brace yourselves for what is coming... soon...ish... I hope you keep reading and thank you so much for your comments and feedback... hope to return soon...ish with the next chapter <3 big hugs.

Back at the Palace, Damen felt… defeated. To say the least. He was just too goddamn tired. Dealing with Laurent was so difficult, and not because of Laurent but because he couldn’t deal with all the things Laurent made him feel.

A lingering thought on his mind kept coming back, which said: love isn’t supposed to feel like this.

And it was true. Love wasn’t supposed to feel like a knife was inserting itself onto you over and over and was rendering you powerless and it was depressing, and it wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

And yet, Laurent also had the ability to make him feel very much alive. And he loved that and he missed that so much because it was all as if he was watching it from and entirely new lens: everything more intense, exciting, more.

Nik almost crashed against him as he was deep in thought in one of the hallways of the palace. “Hey!”, he exclaimed, “I was looking for you”.

Damen didn’t even look at him. “I was with Eg at the beach”, he said quietly.

“Well, while you were gone a messenger arrived: both Patras and Vask agreed to the summit. They will arrive next week”, Nik’s voice was a combination of both awe and excitement.

Damen’s eyes widened: “What?”

“Damen, this is huge! It’s the first time the four kingdoms reunite in lords knows how long. We have to start to strategize, think carefully what we want to say and how to say it”.

I’ve got to talk to Laurent, was Damen’s first thought.

In fact, Laurent would probably arrive in a couple of minutes. Damen rushed past them because he didn’t really want to arrive next to him at the palace.

He sat down in one of the low walls at the hallway, contemplating.

Nik sat next to him. “You don’t look too excited for someone who’s achieving something historic and unparalleled in our kingdom’s history and getting married a week later”.

Damen rubbed his forehead. “I just have a lot of things in my mind”.

Nik sighed. “I mean, in general. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile. You don’t look okay, man. You think no one is noticing, but I do. I’ve known you for far too long not to notice”.

Damen simply turned to look at him and shook his head. “I’m just… tired, and I see no way out of it. But I’ll be fine, promise”.

“Hm, I’m certain it has absolutely nothing to do with the current guest at the palace”.

“It does not”.

He put his hand on Damen’s shoulder. “You are far too transparent”.

“So does he say”.

Nik smiled. “Seven fucking years and you’re still not over that bastard. Must have been one hell of a fuck”.

Damen laughed unexpectedly, having been taken off ward by Nik’s comment. “It was”.

Nik put a hand to stop him. “We don’t need more details, thank you”.

Damen shook his head and was silent for a moment.

Nik asked him: “Do you think you’ll ever get over him?”

Damen shrugged. “No?”, he admitted as Nik grimaced. “It’s been seven years and I still haven’t so the future doesn’t look very…promising. But I’ll learn how to live without him, you just get used to absence and that’s it, and you’re left to wonder what if? For the rest of your life. And that will be it”.

“You’ll be happy with Irina, Damen. I know you are not really in love, but you two make a good team. It will be okay”.

Damen looked down and nodded. “I know. I trust her so much, so much more than… most people. She’s brilliant and funny and a great ally, but…”

“But she’s not the fucking King of Vere”.

Damen smiled and shook his head. “When you put it like that… it sounds so incredibly ridiculous. To think I ever entertained the notion that…”

Nik frowned and looked at him expectantly.

“…that we could be more than just the leaders of enemy nations”.

“Well, back then, at times it seemed like you could make it. And I hated it, but I have to admit it”.

Damen shook his head. “Was never going to happen”.

“But you allowed yourself to believe it could”.

Damen nodded.

“And why didn’t it?”, Nik asked for the very first time. He had never never asked Damen that. Damen himself had never talked about that, to anyone. But it was only fair, he supposed, to deal with it. He opened his mouth to speak when he heard some footsteps crossing the corner.

It was Eg, who was running towards him. “Uncle Damen!”, he said as he hugged his legs, the only part of his body he could reach with Damen sitting there. “We were looking for you!”

“We?”, Nik asked.

Laurent walked in some seconds later, looking absolutely regal as always. His back straight and his posture screaming royalty. Nik sighed audibly and rolled his eyes. “Of course”, Nik said.

“We built sand castles Uncle Nik! And they were terrible!”, Eg said with excitement.

Nik frowned. “The three of you, little one?”

“Yes! And we’re so bad at it! Especially Laurent”.

Laurent feigned to be offended and Nik actually smirked. “Excuse me? Blame your uncle’s terrible blueprint”.

Nik turned to look at Damen, one eyebrow raised. 

Damen ignored him. “Hardly my fault. We are, in fact, terrible at it. But we just need more practice and we’ll become experts. We learn things through hard work, remember, Eg?”

Eg nodded copiously and Laurent smiled at him warmly. Damen felt his heart giving a skip and he hated it.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Actually, we have news”, Damen told Laurent, no real emotion behind it, all business, ignoring the conversation they’d previously had, and especially the falling out they had had a week before and that Nik was blissfully unaware of. 

Laurent looked at him expectantly.

“The summit is confirmed”.

Laurent’s eyes widened and he nodded calmly. “Alright. I’m assuming the guests will arrive in one week?”

Damen nodded.

Nik then stepped up to give Laurent a very honest and very thoughtful warning which went along the way that he would rip his intestines with his own bare hands if Laurent even remotely implied he could suggest something that would affect Akielos negatively, to which Laurent responded with a wide smile that did not seem to calm Nik at all whilst Damen watched the exchange holding the laughter. Eg on the other hand, seemed quite bored.

As soon as Nik was done, he took Eg by the hand and apologized for using excessive language in front of him and told him he would make up for it with a sparring practice, which soured Eg’s mood even more. Finally, they agreed that Nik would read him a tale. Nik didn’t seem very pleased.

Damen watched them walk away with a smile on his face. It truly was wonderful to see, how Eg had changed the mood around the palace. Before everything had happened, his life at Ios was… lifeless. Gray. Boring. And he didn’t even notice because he was too busy fucking his way around the court. And then he met Laurent. And then Eg arrived and yes, life could be different.

He felt a hand on his wrist. Thin. Cold. Always so cold. Soft. Always so soft.

He turned to look at Laurent who was staring at him fixedly. “Yes?”, he asked.

But Laurent kept studying him, silently.

Damen frowned and that seemed to make Laurent react. He shook his head and said, his voice level, calm and steady: “I want us to be a team. A united front, you might call it, in front of Patras and Vask. Every decision concerted, every idea pondered through. Both of us aware of what’s in our Kingdoms’ best interests and acting upon that, doing everything in our hands to make the treaty prevail, and become even stronger”.

Damen was taken aback. He didn’t expect that, this rush of honesty and trust coming from Laurent, who had not taken his hand off his wrist and was still staring intently at him. He nodded. “I agree, you know I do. But I need to have your word”.

“You have my word”, he said seriously and with full conviction. 

“You have my word as well”.

Laurent nodded. “Thank you. For everything”.

Damen looked down at the hand but Laurent didn’t let go. A beat in which they simply stared at each other passed by, and then Laurent did the second thing that pulled him off guard that afternoon. He said: “I’m sorry”.

Damen frowned. “What?”, he asked. “What are you sorry for?”

“I’m sorry that whatever I did or said that night with the griva hurt you and your feelings. I truly am”.

“You never apologize”.

Laurent shrugged. “Maybe I’ve grown up”.

And he was absolutely right. In many ways, Damen was left with the lasting memory of the Laurent he met seven years ago, expecting him to be the exact copy of the man he was facing now. But truth was, they were different people, they had evolved, learnt new things, lived new experiences that irreparably affected the outcome of the people they would become. And that was okay. But it was different for Damen, to have it said so clearly, so pointed. 

Laurent as always, was right.

“I was wrong”, Laurent continued, “in believing you were the same person I met, and you had every right to be upset about it. I will stop making assumptions. But I do believe that we need to get to know each other, these new versions of us, of us as Kings, if we want the treaty to prosper”.

Damen had a very small, almost imperceptible smile, as he replied, without the weight in his heart, “apologies accepted. And I agree”.

Laurent nodded. 

And then he let go of Damen’s wrist and despite the fact that Laurent’s hands were so freezing cold the environment felt entirely colder without his hand holding his wrist.

“Meet me tonight at the ruins”, Laurent whispered, as he walked away. 

 

************

The ruins were dark and desolated by the time Damen got down of his horse. He was nervous and excited all at the same time. It was quite an unusual feeling, but one he loved to go back to, for nothing felt like it, at all. By the time he walked to the stairs where him and Laurent had met before, he stopped for a second to study him. Laurent was lit by the faint light coming from one of the lanterns made out of candles that he had brought with him. He was deep in thought, reading the treaty even though the lighting conditions were terrible. And even though he was pretty much sitting on the floor, he looked like such a royal.

Damen had forgiven him. He couldn’t deny that he had been angry, and he was pretty certain that it was an anger he had harbored for over seven years and that was only bound to find its way out, and that was still probably buried deep within because, well it had been more than seven years. He was angry at Laurent but also so incredibly frustrated at him, and it only came down to one thing: they had lost one another and he was desperately trying to find out why. 

Laurent looked up as he approached him slowly, and a small and very, very soft smile was drawn on his lips. One that Damen couldn’t help but replicate as he sat right next to him. “You’re gonna drive yourself blind if you keep reading in the darkness”.

“We don’t have much time to lose, Damen, and I need to make sure I know everything about… well, everything”.

“You already do. I’m pretty certain you’re the one person who knows the treaty from top to bottom, and who actually read the whole thing through. So don’t worry much”.

“Is this your way of admitting that you didn’t read the entire treaty?”, Laurent asked, an eyebrow raised.

Damen cracked a laughter, he couldn’t not to. “I did, a long time ago. It took me a while and it was boring.”

He could see through the dim and poor light that Laurent was smiling back, but he didn’t take his eyes off the document. Damen sat back next to him and remained silent. Someone else would have demanded Laurent’s attention, pull hit out of his reverie and make him focus on them, would have raised their voice, but Damen knew better than that, and so he waited until Laurent finished his train of thought, until he knew he wouldn’t interrupt him. After some minutes, Laurent finally looked up at him, and even though his gaze conveyed very little, Damen knew those subtle changes good enough to know he was thankful for that.

Then Laurent went on to explain his plan to Damen about how to handle the meeting, what they could say, what they could negotiate and how they would do it.

Damen nodded along and added some inputs. Thanks to Irina, he had gotten to know Patras’ internal functioning and interests quite well, and he knew Akielos had a lot to contribute to the trade alliances with the kingdoms. In the end, they would push to agree to a Treaty of Non-Mutual Violence. They went on throughout most of the night, planning as a team on how to handle it, and it was honestly fascinating for Damen to see Laurent’s complete trust in him in that regard. 

By the time they were done, Laurent sat back and leaned against the ruins of the staircase of what once had been the main square at the Artesian Empire. He covered his mouth to stifle a yawn and Damen couldn’t help but smile at him. In those moments when Laurent showed himself at his most human, that side he kept hidden from literally everyone else, was always exciting to see. “You know, kings do need to get some sleep every now and then”.

“I’ll sleep when I’m certain my kingdom is safe and Patras and Vask are allies”.

“I’m not certain you’ll manage to convince them if you keep falling asleep over the desk during the meetings”.

Laurent’s smile was small and faint. He then turned to Damen and his face turned more serious as he said: “Irina truly is an important ally to Akielos, isn’t she? You seem to know things about Patras nor even our chancellor knows about”.

Damen swallowed. He nodded slowly. “She is. Patras in general is an important ally for Akielos and I like how open they seem to be to strengthening our alliance. Vere is equally as important, but since I know that our”, he pointed at both of them, “treaty is still on action despite the fact you made me believe for a haunting moment that it wasn’t, I want to explore and enhance our relationship with the other kingdoms”. Damen turned at Laurent: “and since I can’t fuck my way around Vask anymore”, he said with an easygoing smile that Laurent didn’t reciprocate, “Patras it is”.

Laurent didn’t seem to fixate on the previous comment when he asked: “How did you meet her?”

Damen shrugged. “In Patras. At one of the official dinners with King Torgier. Years ago, even before… getting sent to Vere. We met again two or three years ago during one of my visits to the Kingdom”, stop asking me more questions, he didn’t say.

Laurent nodded, staring straight ahead. “When did you decide to marry her?”

Why do you care why do you care why

“A week before we sent out the invitations”.

“How did you propose?”

Damen clenched his fists and stood up. “What does that have to do with what we’re discussing right now, Laurent?”

Laurent didn’t seem disturbed. “It was just a question”.

Damen tried to calm himself down and sat back down, being taken aback by Laurent’s lack of emotional response. Why do you care why do you care why

“What about family?”, Laurent asked, quietly.

Damen frowned, turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… do you want that in the future?”

“Why are you asking me that?”

“You just asked me the same question hours ago. What’s the difference?”

Damen sighed. “Isn’t that the entire purpose of getting married?”

“I thought one gets married out of love”.

“That, too”.

“You love her, then”.

Damen was quiet for a moment. He was quite… an impulsive person, especially when he was incensed, and he had that in common with Laurent, they both reacted on impulse, they were so closely connected to their emotions, but Laurent was better at hiding it, for certain. He knew immediately what the impulsive answer would be, and he knew it would be the wrong one. And so he took a second to really consider his response. 

No. He would have said. 

And it would be a lie. 

Truth was, he trusted her with his life. And the amount of people he could do that with was incredibly scarce. 

And he was certain that each of those persons, he loved, in a certain way.

Nik was one.

Eg was another. 

Irina. 

Laurent. 

He sighed. Of course he fucking trusted Laurent with his life. He had done so seven years ago and the fact that that particular aspect hadn’t changed unnerved him in so many ways he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. 

But back to Irina.

He trusted Irina with his life.

And he loved her. 

Just not in the way one is supposed to love a spouse. 

More like in the way one loves a dear, dear friend.

Laurent, on the other hand. 

Scratch that thought out. 

So he wasn’t lying when he replied: “I do”.

Laurent stopped looking at Damen and nodded, staring straight ahead. With that lighting, Damen could only see his profile, but barely. Laurent just kept nodding. “She seems like a great fit for Akielos”, he whispered. “And she’ll be a good ally for you”.

Don’t talk like that don’t say that don’t speak like you’re giving up don’t just don’t please let’s change the subject don’t ask me about her because I will reveal more about you than I will about her please just- 

“Should I be worried about your strong alliance with Patras?”, Laurent asked, changing the topic, still incredibly calm. Damen wondered if he could hear his loud heartbeats, for he was feeling his heart was about to escape from his chest.

Why did you change the subject 

“No”, he replied with complete honesty. “Vere is and always will be my priority. You”, he cleared his throat, “I mean, our treaty, will always be my priority. I know our relationship”, damn it why was he struggling so hard with words?, “I mean- our kingdoms’ is complex, and difficult, and it has its ups and its downs. And I know I’ve neglected it before. And I want to fix that. I will do everything at my hand to stop any war, any small conflict, anything from developing, and I know you will too. Because you’re fair. And honest”.

“Don’t blame yourself for neglecting it. We both did. We signed the Treaty and pretended it meant everything was alright and yet-”, he grew silent.

Damen truly fought against his better impulses. He truly did. 

But he lost.

And so, he whispered, very, very, very lowly: “Why did we?”

Laurent was silent for a moment. Then he only replied: “Why indeed”.

Damen could give two reasons: one was the simple, another one the difficult. 

The simple one was true: life got in the way. Suddenly he was a king in a kingdom that was still strong but still riddled by war and who had lost its helm from the moment King Theomedes died, and he had to avoid internal conflicts whilst carefully selecting his council and making certain that the reforms he proposed would get avail without creating a civil war.

The difficult one was true: he didn’t want to face Laurent. Because he knew quite well that was a war he was bound to lose. 

To say he was heartbroken in the months following his coronation was to say little, was to diminish the complexity of the feelings Damen was haunted by, because he was anxious and lonely and he missed his brother and he was still healing and he felt powerful but also incredibly small and he missed Laurent so fucking much that it hurt to breathe. 

So that answer was difficult, but nonetheless equally true: he neglected his relationship with Vere because he couldn’t bear to deal with Laurent. Because it was too close to home. Because he knew that his heart would get in the way and he was certain Laurent hadn’t been able to forgive him so whatever attempt he could make at anything would only be received with contempt. 

In the end, Damen chose the simple one. Of course, he always would. “Life just got in the way”, he whispered. “For me. I know it’s not an excuse. I know I should have done something about it but I just assumed-”

Laurent turned to look at him so suddenly Damen was taken aback. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have assumed”, he replied, and for the first time, Damen could distinguish a notable hint of anger. “Perhaps you should have asked”.

“Perhaps you should have reached out”, Damen replied, and he was pretty certain he wasn’t talking about the Treaty anymore.

“Life just got in the way”, Laurent called back, his voice still surprisingly strained.

Once again, impulse overtook logic. Damen couldn’t help but ask: “Are we still talking about the treaty?”, because he had to know.

Laurent was silent. He went back to staring straight ahead. Damen could see Laurent was fighting an internal battle. He knew that, for he recognized the signs, they were quite similar to what he used to look like when they were still starting to feel feelings they both could not quite understand. When they were supposed to hate each other but-

Damen just let him be. A minute or so later, he seemed to compose himself, and so, he replied, serenely, calmly and easy-going, as if nothing had happened: “I’m glad we didn’t ruin it beyond salvation”.

So they were still talking about the treaty, then.

Were they?

“I don’t think that would have been possible”, Damen replied. “We cared too much. We both did”.

Laurent nodded, seeming to agree with Damen. “Do you still care?”, he asked, quietly, the question almost getting lost in thin air. 

The answer, this time, was simple: “I will always care, Laurent. Always”.

Laurent turned to look at him and they stared deeply into each others’ eyes, neither able to say a single word. Damen was feeling his heart fighting so hard to get out of his chest, and he was certain Laurent could feel it, too. It was so difficult to try to convey something that was always so much bigger than him, something that had existed and developed without his knowledge, without his consent, until it had grown up to be so gigantic and so all-encompassing he had no other choice that to surrender to it, because he knew he could not fight against it. That was what loving Laurent had felt like. 

What it still feels like. 

“So will I”, Laurent replied, still staring deep into Damen’s eyes.

What is that supposed to mean why are you saying that we’re talking about the treaty aren’t we? You mean to say that you will always care about nurturing a long-lasting peace with Akielos because war took your brother from you aren’t you? You will always care about peace?

You will always care about… us?

Laurent stood up and lent a hand for Damen to grab, and Damen held onto it, trying desperately to ignore the feeling in his hands. The tingling, warm and fuzzy feeling in his hands. It didn’t last long. In fact, it lasted for far too little. 

Why are your hands always so cold 

“I’ll see you tomorrow”, Laurent said. “Same place?”

Damen nodded back.

Same place.

Same place, but a different conversation, he hoped.

Chapter 16

Notes:

I am taking SO LONG to update and I'm so sorry but I've literally been consumed by real life in the worst way possible, so I'm sorry about that. Anyway, I hope to update sooner than in this case and I truly hope you enjoy this chapter and what's about to come. Thank you for your comments to last chapter, I'll get to reply to them as soon as I can!

Big hugs!

That morning, Damen finally spoke with Irina. He excused himself on being too busy to properly have a conversation with her regarding the summit, but he knew it was absolutely necessary for her to know all the details about it, but also for him to get an insight on Patras, and she was excellent at that, too. She gave proper advice, knew the functioning of the kingdom better than anyone and spoke with honesty about Patras’ interests and needs, for she was first and foremost loyal to her kingdom. Damen admired her for that, too. 

They talked for hours, and by the time they were done, he sat on the edge of the bed, moving his back a little bit with a groan, for his muscles were sore, he had barely gotten a few hours of sleep the night before and he felt terribly exhausted. She sat right next to him, on the edge of the bed, and eyed him carefully.

“You look a little tired”, she said.

He sighed and looked up as he replied: “I just got a lot of things in my mind”.

“Just about the summit? Or is it something else?”

“This summit terrifies me” he said, with raw honesty. “I feel like I have the future of my kingdom in my hands, and what if I blow it up?”

“You will not”, Irina replied with absolute certainty. “You are smart and ambitious and you know what is in your kingdom's best interest without having any intention to increase your power, or to step over everyone else to reaffirm such power. You are not a threat to any of them. You will be okay”, she gave a small, disbelieving smile and said, “You even managed to convince Laurent. You truly can convince anyone”

“He is not that difficult to convince”. 

“He seems like the most difficult person to handle”.

“He is not. You get used to him once you get to know him and you realize that he is, in fact, brilliant and selfless, and you know he is definitely smarter than you, so you know that whatever plan he comes up with is going to be a better plan than anything you can possibly come up with”.

“But how can you trust him, Damen?”, she asked with genuine curiosity. 

He shrugged. He trusted people blindly, it was kind of a part of who he was, and in all honesty, the process to trust him had come so naturally he hadn’t even noticed until it was too late. “We were… both… in a  very difficult situation all those years ago. He could have killed me, he knew who I was. I knew he wanted to kill me…”

“Yes, I can see that in your back”.

“-But then he didn't, and then he trusted me, and then I led his troops and I got to realize that whatever his ambitions were, they were not for his own welfare. They were for his kingdom. He wants peace. He was torn by war and he could have become this vengeful, resentful person, but that is not who he was, despite how much he wished he could be that person. That is why I trust him. He does not crave power, he does not want to destroy Akielos because he knows that would lead to an unfair bloodshed and he does not want for other people to live what I pulled him through when I killed Auguste”.

Irina just kept eyeing him carefully, silently, for a couple of minutes, before saying: “Damen, can I ask you a question?” 

“What?”

“You were his bed slave-”

“No, no, no”, he cut her off. “That- no”.

“Are you telling me nothing happened, or are you asking me not to ask you?”

He grew silent. He didn't know how to defend against that, he didn't know what to say. 

“Tomorrow you leave. But you’re mine now. You’re still my slave tonight.”

“I don’t think you want me. I think you just want me to feel this”.

“Then, feel it”, had said Laurent.

That was not- that was not the response that he would give her, ever. 

“Something happened. But it was nothing. And it was seven years ago, and it-”, he cleared his throat, forced himself to believe his own lie, “it meant nothing”.

He wasn't ready to open his heart just yet, he couldn't deal with that. He knew that it would make things much more complicated, he knew that if he said it right up front, if he told her what had been going on with them all those years ago, she would not understand, Nik didn't understand, nobody did, plus what was there to tell anyway? It had just been one night, just that one. Perhaps it hadn't been anything for Laurent. In fact they never acknowledged it ever again, not in a positive way, Laurent just threw it to his face when he admitted he had always known who Damen was, so… perhaps it was just one of those things that was doomed to oblivion, one of those experiences that define you so completely and yet it seemed like the world didn’t stop turning, like life carried on as it did before it happened, as if nothing had changed. So even though his world was shattered seven years ago, nothing had changed. 

So there was not much else to tell her. 

He cleared his throat and very, very lowly, he said as he swallowed down his own feelings that were threatening to come out: “please do not ask me anything else on the matter. That is all you need to know”.

She nodded and looked straight ahead. They were silent for a couple of minutes, until Damen felt safe enough to change the subject. And so, he said: “Irina I know I have kept you in the dark”.

She laughed a little bit, “Really? I had not noticed”.

“I just- I take you for granted, and I take your knowledge for granted. I know that I don't have to explain myself much to you, I know that I don't have to lay down everything in front of you, because I know that you will get it. That is why it took me much less to talk about the summit with you than it will take me to discuss it with the Council and with Nik. I trust you. I want you to know that. I feel like I don’t say it enough, but it is true”. 

She seemed to relax a little bit with that. “Good, you better. So do I with you”. 

He nodded, thanking her. 

“I do have one request, though”, Irina said, with conviction, “I want to be there at the meetings. I want to help you make decisions. I understand my Kingdom better than anybody else and I refuse to just sit by and be in the back while the rest of you are plotting about our future, so I will be sitting there and I will not spend one minute more attending to the requirements of the wedding ceremony. I will delegate someone else to deal with that but I will be there making decisions. Are we clear?”

Damen simply smiled at her as he shook his head. Actually he was quite surprised that every single person that he had taken to consider as a real love interest held that in common: they were very set-minded, very ambitious and very smart, and he was proud of himself for that, and yes, that included Jokaste. 

“Of course. I never expected you to be right at the front of an event when the future of our kingdoms was being discussed. You are already part of the table. I will never ask for anything less from you”. 

She smiled back at him. After that, they just sat side by side, simply staring ahead. But of them quiet, unwilling to say anything else. Damen didn't want to anyway. He liked this comfortable silence around her, but deep down he was actually wondering why they both looked so terribly unhappy.

 *****

“No, no, no, no”.

“Look at you. Who would have thought that after seven years you would become so boring?”

“Who would have thought that after seven years you would create such stupid plans?”

“Hey!”

“It’s a stupid plan, Laurent”, Damen said, unable to hide his smile, because he was in disbelief but with a stupid fondness that he kind of hated and wanted to fight against. 

“It isn’t”.

“It is. You’re telling me you want us to wear costumes and sit at a tavern to talk to people? Listen to how I’m saying this. It sounds”, he couldn’t help but laugh a little, “it sounds so fucking stupid”.

Laurent smiled back and punched him softly in the arm. “Are you not curious to know how your kingdom feels about the decisions you have made? You can’t pretend to just rule from the comfort of your palace, Damen”.

“So says the one who ran away from their kingdom to hide in Akielos to avoid a coup”.

“You are taking liberties I have not given you the right to take”, Laurent replied, such at ease that Damen was surprised, it felt completely different from every interaction they had had in the last four weeks. It was Laurent trusting and being in a good mood, it was oddly familiar to what it used to be, before.

“Pardon me, Your Majesty. With all due respect, this is the stupidest idea I have heard in my life”.

“You’re taking some credit off yourself, Damen, I’m certain you have come up with far stupider ideas”.

“Yes, attacking me will certainly convince me”.

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Fine. You fucking win. I also want to map out how they feel about my own kingdom. Is that too bad? I want to know if an eventual alliance could possibly fuck your kingdom and take the support off mine, happy?”

Damen shrugged. “That’s better. I just don’t need to go on disguise to know that they are kind of hating me for the whole slavery thing. It will not make me change it, though”.

“I admire your persistence in a topic that will certainly remain controversial”.

“I don’t care. I will be in the right side of history, even if I am in the wrong side of my people”. 

Laurent shook his head. “Always so stubborn”.

“I have to be stubborn if I have to stand up for what I believe in”.

“I know”, Laurent replied, “it’s one of the reasons why-”

Damen looked up as Laurent fell silent. He then rose his eyebrow expectantly. Laurent cleared his throat. 

“-Why I trusted you in the first place. You will do anything to defend what you believe in, and you are usually defending what is right. I admire you for that”.

Damen was certainly not ready for that kind of vulnerability coming from Laurent, it was unusual to hear any compliment from him, and it was wonderful. And Damen hated it. And Damen loved it. And Damen… wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. So, he allowed himself to speak what his heart was begging to say: “You and I are similar in that aspect. That is how I know that Vere is in the best hands it could possibly be. That is why I will stand by you, why I took your side without even questioning it”.

Laurent stared at him silently. His voice was very, very low when he whispered. “How can you still believe it? After all this time? How can you still see me?”

“What I saw seven years ago was enough to convince me. I know we both have changed. But I’m more than certain you- what makes you, you, that, hasn’t changed”.

Laurent looked down when he replied: “What makes me, me?”

“You’re honest and loyal, you will put yourself at risk if it is for the welfare of your kingdom. You’re brilliant and you’re… true. You’re the truest man I’ve ever known. There have been so many lies around us. And yet, I trust you. I believe in your word”.

“How can you still be so-?”, and he shut himself down.

Damen leaned closer. “So…?”, he whispered, desperate to know.

Laurent blinked a couple of times. You’re fighting that internal battle, Damen saw, “so… kind, when most of the people you have trusted in have hurt you? When I -”

Damen’s response was immediate, he didn’t even give his brain time to reconsider the repercussion of what he was about to say: “When you have hurt me as well?”

Laurent looked up at him and his gaze was unbearably soft. Damen wondered how that conversation that had started merely as a joke had come to that moment. He felt like he was holding his breath, like they both were. He felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as Laurent looked at the moment, like he was laying himself bare, open, for Damen to take a piece of him. Like it ached him but it was necessary. Damen didn’t understand how or why, couldn’t comprehend how it had come to this, and yet it felt like it was only bound to happen, this conversation. 

Laurent nodded. 

Damen shrugged. “We both hurt each other”.

Laurent clenched his fist. A beat of silence. Then another. Then, an admission: “Yes. We did”.

A beat of silence. Damen didn’t know what to say to that. 

He opted to sit on the stairs. The same stairs that had become their subterfuge during the last couple of days, the only place where it seemed like honesty was allowed, the only place where the darkness seemed to encourage their inner, deepest, most personal thoughts to come through. The one place where speaking those thoughts out loud felt remotely safe. 

Laurent sat next to him. 

They stayed silent for a little while, simply staring ahead. Damen was going back and forth on that admission: they had both hurt each other. Of course they had. But there were so many different levels on which they had hurt each other, it was difficult to try and understand to which level Laurent was referring to. Did he mean it in the past? Did he mean it in the present? Did he mean it seven years ago? Fourteen years ago when Damen had killed Auguste at Marlas? Did he mean right at the moment?

Are you hurting right now?

Does it hurt you?

Because breathing hurts me. Missing you hurts me. Dreaming about Ravenel hurts me. 

Aching desperately to touch you, to kiss you, to get you back, it hurts me.

Loving you hurts me.

Losing you hurts me. 

Damen didn’t say. 

It wasn’t the right moment to voice those thoughts aloud. No moment would be the right moment to voice them. He just wanted to stay there and breathe right in tandem with Laurent, pretend they hadn’t just allowed a vulnerable side of them to come forward. 

Laurent turned to look at Damen and simply stared at him. Damen didn’t couldn’t look back at him. Because with the low light, with the bare, raw, ripping feelings pouring from his heart and his brain, he knew it would be easy to fuck up. He knew instinct would overcome reason, he knew he could just lean forward and ruin everything. And he knew that he would hate it. Because he was still so fucking angry and so fucking sad that it would be the wrong choice.

From the corner of his eye, it seemed like Laurent wanted to say something, like he was trying to find the right words, or perhaps Damen was just imagining it. But no, probably he wasn’t. 

And he didn’t want Laurent to talk. He was certain that whatever Laurent could say, be it good or bad, could only ruin this moment further.

Damen grew tense, something that was unusual for him. But his muscles were tense and his fists were clenched and Laurent noticed, he couldn’t not to. He was Laurent. And so, Laurent turned back to look straight ahead, and it was for the better, whatever he had to say, Damen didn’t want to hear it. Except he desperately wanted to. 

“Prove it”, Laurent whispered after a couple of minutes of silence.

“What?”

“Prove my plan is stupid”.

Damen frowned.

Laurent’s gaze immediately went to the wigs and the robes he was still holding, the ones he hadn’t let go of. 

Damen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do I even bother? We will end up doing what you want”.

“When have we ever?”

Damen kept staring at him, an eyebrow raised. 

Laurent conceded, once again good-naturedly, pretending like the conversation they had had didn’t happen at all. “Fine. I’ll grant you that much”.

Damen felt exhausted from the small exchange they had just had. It felt like the memories and the utter sadness that invaded him so suddenly had drained him off all the energy he had just mere minutes before. “Tomorrow. You’re keeping me up and I need a good night’s sleep”.

Laurent looked a bit disappointed as he said: “Fine.”

As they stood up, Damen couldn’t help but turn back to look at Laurent, who didn’t know what to do with the clothes he was holding. “Where did you get those from?”.

Laurent shrugged, “I snook into your servants’ rooms. I do not recommend it. The things I saw… was like coming back to Vere”.

Damen cracked in laughter. “What did you expect?”

“I was expecting exactly that. They were distracted enough I could steal a couple of their clothes”.

“I can’t believe you stole from the servants!”

“I ordered your tailor to make them new clothes”.

“You what?”

“I ordered him. And I paid him immediately for those so he couldn’t refuse”.

Damen shook his head unbelievingly. “And what about those wigs?”

“Made out of real hair your hairdresser had just cut off”.

“You’re unbelievable”.

“Thank you”.

“I didn’t mean it as a compliment”.

“Oh, I know you did, even if you don’t realize you did”.

And with those words, Laurent walked away, holding his clothes and his wig against him. 

“Same time, tomorrow”, he exclaimed as he left.

Damen stared at his retreating figure, unable to look anywhere else. 

*****

That night, Damen’s sleep pattern was off. 

He fell asleep, into a dreamless sleep. Of sorts.

Instead, all night, he heard a voice. 

His own.

We both hurt each other. 

It repeated, over and over.

******

Three days before the Summit, stupidly, irrationally and defying any sense of logic, Damen and Laurent were on route to a nearby village. 

The plan was so incredibly terrible, so terribly simple, that Damen finally came to think it wasn’t such a terrible idea.

In all honesty, the idea of trading the title of King for a day in order to be just… a citizen… excited him more than it should. And Laurent might also have had something to do with it. 

It wasn’t that stupid to want to find out what their people thought about them right before the summit. In fact, whatever they could gather from there would be useful for the summit. The plan was this stupidly simple: they would ride to a village near Kesus, two hours away from Ios, mostly a rural village that Damen had not visited before and therefore he had less chances to be recognized at. There was the tavern, and they would arrive there dressed as… Veretian clothes merchants on their way to Ios. How original. They would get the crowd drunk, an easy task to accomplish, and start talking politics. 

They would ride back at dawn.

It was so stupid, and Damen truly wanted to see Laurent in a wig. 

They met again right after dinner at the barn. He could see by his silhouette that Laurent was already there, brushing his mare’s hair. Damen walked towards him, unable to erase the goofy smile off his face, as soon as he did, Laurent turned to him and Damen cracked in laughter. He couldn’t not to. 

Laurent was already in his raggedy clothes, and he was wearing… a brown, curly wig that made him look so ridiculous and at the same time it still made him look so unbelievably good-looking Damen couldn’t wrap his mind around it. But the wig was well made and it fitted him perfectly, he just looked so…different. 

Damen’s stomach was hurting from laughing so much but when he finally wiped the tears from his eyes, he realized that Laurent was taking something off his saddle bag, laughing along with Damen. 

“Laugh all you want, wait until you see yours”.

Damen grew serious and frowned. “I’m not wearing a wig”.

“You are wearing a wig”.

“I am not!”

“You’re supposed to be the assistant of a Veretian clothes merchant. You can’t look like you’re the fucking King of Akielos”.

“But I’m the fucking King of Akielos!”

Laurent took a step closer and lifted the wig. “No, you’re not. Not now, at least”.

The wig was light brown, the hair longer than Damen’s, straight, to a length that would probably reach about his chin. He grimaced with disgust. 

“That wig is awful!”, he exclaimed.

“Deliberately awful. You’re not supposed to look attractive, you’re supposed to look like the assistant of a Veretian clothes merchant!”

So I look attractive right now? Damen wanted to ask, but knew it wouldn’t be a good idea. Laurent reached out to him: “Bend over”, he said, so he could actually reach the top of his head, and very softly, placed the wig on Damen’s hair, softly accommodating it around Damen’s curls until he felt them fully covered.

As soon as he lifted his head, Laurent took a look at him and broke in laughter. 

“I can’t look worse than you!”, Damen said, good-naturedly. 

“Oh, I can promise you, you do”, Laurent replied, still laughing. 

“Is this enough to prove to you that your plan is incredibly stupid?”

“I’ll believe it when it’s fully executed. Now, change your clothes”, Laurent said, tossing the clothes to Damen, who looked at them with a frown.

“What on heavens have you done to these?”, Damen asked, eyeing the robes he was holding.

“Had to stitch two together, otherwise nothing would fit your gigantic body”. 

Damen rose an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with that before”.

“I am not rising to your stupid comments when you look this ridiculous”, Laurent replied as he turned over for Damen to change his clothes, as if he hadn’t seen Damen naked before. 

So Damen did so quickly, but staring at Laurent’s raggedy silhouette, at his back, as he did so.

He ignored the rush of heat he inexplicably felt as he unclasped the pin at his shoulder, without taking his eyes off Laurent. 

Then he quickly put on his new -old- clothes, which fitted him terribly. They were huge and he looked like an idiot.

He was an idiot, or he had lost his mind, or something in between. But whatever it was, Laurent was too, so it made him feel less stupid. 

He told Laurent he could turn back now and they both looked at each other up and down. Surprisingly, without the regal clothes and with the unfortunate hair, Laurent looked much less like a royal and much more like a commoner. The most good-looking, the sharpest commoner of all, but a commoner either way. Judging by Laurent’s face, so did Damen. 

They stared at each other and nodded, mounting their horses. The area around the barn was desolated, and they swiftly and silently escaped. 

As they rode towards the village, the wind playing with his wig but soft enough not to push it off, Damen couldn’t help but think he hadn’t felt this excited in a long, long time. 

Seven years, to be exact. 

Notes:

I know you are craving for some lighthearted fluff before all hell breaks loose so here it is!! -kind of and in their own twisted weird way - I'm having so much fun with these two idiots being stupid together asjddshdh, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and the next one... also hope you're ready.

Thank you so much for reading and see you soon! <3

Chapter 17

The canteen they stopped at was truly isolated from the urban area nearby Ios, which was a good thing, considering the fact that around the city most of the inhabitants knew Damen and probably would recognize them quite easily. 

As soon as they arrived, they could sense they were definitely not in Ios. The canteen was brimming with people who were chatting excitedly and singing their poems loudly and drinking a lot. The low light coming from the candles situated around the place made it look shabby and yet so filled with life, like the kind of place everyone would have warned Damen to avoid at all costs and the one place he would have been the most curious to get to know. He knew Laurent was feeling the same, they were very similar in that aspect, and the absurdity of this whole idea, of this entire place, only drew them more and more towards it. 

Damen placed a hand on Laurent’s forearm to stop him just as he was about to walk in. “What”, Laurent asked.

Damen moved forward and ruffled Laurent’s wig until it looked a little less…fake… and a little more groggy. “You still look like a royal, try and stop looking like…”

“Like what”, Laurent crossed his arms. 

“Like you! With your chin up and looking at everybody below you, with those snake-like eyes”.

“That is how I look at you. Not how I’ll look at them”.

“Then stop looking at me like that, I’m supposed to be your assistant, not your-”

“Sworn enemy of a barbarian nation?”

“Former lover?”

Laurent shrugged. “Same thing”, he said, ignoring Damen’s hand and walking towards the canteen.

Damen had to admit, Laurent had talent when it came to performing. For as soon as he stepped into the place, his whole stance, his posture, his attitude and even his voice changed. He looked confident, but with a different kind of confidence, not like the confidence a royal would display -which he was very good at-, more like the confidence that a man would display just because of the fact he is a man. And yet, there was something about his posture that made him look like he was trying to convey some sense of uncertainty, of insecurity, probably at being a foreigner so deep into Akielos -something Damen was certain was Laurent playing his part, for he had never looked this uncertain in Ios-.

He walked towards the bar, greeted the bartender who didn’t even lock eyes with them at all, and ordered two drinks made out of yeast that Damen had hardly tried before.

He paid with the lowest denomination of coins they had at Akielos -and again, Damen wondered how on Earth did he come up with all of that- and they sat at a table. Damen took a sip of the yeast drink and tried his best not to grimace. 

It was hideous.

“You’re bad at pretending to be a commoner”, Laurent whispered at him at the table.

Damen had to admit, Laurent was right. Which was ludicrous considering the fact he had been a slave… but Laurent had told him back then that he was bad at pretending to be a slave either way. Damen observed the people around carefully, mostly men, mostly between their 30s and 40s, they looked like peasants that worked off the land, and he tried to mimic their gestures, register the way they drank their yeast, the faces they made, and especially how fucking loud they were.

Laurent took one large gulp of the yeast and wiped the mustache it left on the top of his lip with the back of his hand. Damen smiled at him, he looked so… unroyal back then, and he seemed to be in a good mood. 

“I thought you didn’t like drinking”, he pointed.

“I don’t. But it has its utilitarian purposes”.

“What if we get too drunk?”

Laurent shrugged. “Then we get too drunk”.

Damen shook his head and smiled. They finished their yeast drink quickly and Laurent stood up, walking towards a big table in the centre of the tavern. Damen knew what it meant. 

They were playing cards, and Laurent was about to beat them to it. 

He approached them shyly, speaking in a very strong Veretian accent, introducing himself as Charls, the Veretian clothes merchant on his way to Ios to close a very important deal. As he spoke, Damen could see written in the men’s faces that they might feel like beating the shit out of him, as if they would be able to. Laurent seemed to notice too and motioned for Damen to go over, and so he did, feeling incredibly self-conscious and like he could be recognized at any moment. 

Laurent introduced him as… of course, Lamen. 

Which was as stupid at that moment as it was seven years ago. The changed initial of his fake name wasn’t lost on him tho, and he felt a soft warmth in his heart. 

As soon as they saw Damen’s gigantic form, their faces transformed and they stopped looking like they would beat Laurent to a pulp. Laurent asked them if they could join in on the game. Damen preferred not to speak much, not until they were drunk enough to not care at all about what he could say or how he would say it. 

They agreed once Laurent placed in a bet and put three coins on the table.

Which he lost pretty soon into the game.

Then two other coins.

The men around him seemed to relax, except for one of them, who looked eerily similar to Makedon, and kept referring to Charls as a “Veretian swine”, but once they were into the next round of drinks, they started asking him about what he did as a veretian clothes merchant, to which Laurent responded with such precision that Damen was convinced he had rehearsed that reply way too many times. Damen remained by his side looking more like his bodyguard than anything else, especially with those awful clothes he was wearing. Tucked into that table, their shoulders were brushing and there was no space left between the side of their bodies. It was difficult to think under those circumstances, especially when the yeast drink was starting to make his mind and his belly feel flurry and warm inside. 

Laurent lost the next round and made a great act to look so disappointed. He admitted he ‘lacked the Akielon wit’ to understand the game better and Damen knew he was biting the inside of his mouth as he said it. “You fucking liar”, he whispered in his ear. 

Laurent bit back a smile behind the glass of his drink. 

Then they turned to Damen curiously and asked him what was his deal, he clearly didn’t look Veretian, how did he end up working with a Veretian? Lamen cleared his throat, tried to change the tone of his voice slightly and went on to talk about how he liked to travel and he liked clothes so this seemed like a good choice as any. 

When the attention went back to the game and Laurent lost this round yet again, he turned to look at Damen and whispered to him: “That was terrible”.

“Well this is a terrible plan, I’m simply acting accordingly”.

The next round of drinks arrived and Laurent finished what was left of his glass quickly before sipping on the next drink.

He looked at Damen mischievously and, as if on cue, went on to mention none other than King Damianos of Akielos.  Damen swallowed. “Well, trading has been easier since your King, Damianos, changed the rules, so I am most thankful for that”, he said with his thick -fake- Veretian accent. 

“Well I am not”, the man who looked like Makedon replied back, a fist banging on the table. “It has opened the path for a lot of cunning, manipulative snakes like the Veretians to come and feed off us”.

One of the other men slapped him in the back good naturedly and said: “I do like it, I can sell more”.

“I think it’s a waste of money, that treaty, it’s shit. It will all go to hell again. It’s a fucking shithole its what it is, Vere and Akielos, just another war waiting to happen”, another one said.

Everyone seemed to agree with that. 

Damen looked down and took a sip of his beer. “I was at the border last week, it seemed peaceful enough”, Laurent replied to them nonchalantly as he eyed his cards.

They seemed doubtful. 

And Laurent was absolutely right. As the yeast drink flowed and the cards were handed and he lost, and lost and lost, Akielons were slightly opening more and revealing more of what they thought. It was as if with that one small comment from Laurent everyone was suddenly pushed to talk about politics. It wasn’t so different from what happened at the palace whenever there was a fancy dinner, lots of drinking and a chance to criticize someone else.

The men talked about the war -were convinced would happen again-, the treaty -didn’t trust it-, the peace -wouldn’t last for long-, the trade -wasn’t actually that bad and there were some Veretian treats they didn’t know before and they could eat now-, the Veretians -lying and conniving little snakes, no offense to Charls, who had just announced the next round was on him-, Damianos -he was fine, they supposed-, the countryside -they were worried about the draught they were experiencing by the end of the summer-, and finally, forbidding slavery.

They didn’t give a shit about how people were reacting to it.

Damen frowned and looked up, his interest more piqued than anything. “No?”, he asked, remembering his accent and his tone had to be different than usual. “I have seen in other cities, they used to value their slaves and were angry?”.

One of them replied, simply, as he took a card from the deck: “This ain’t the fucking city”.

And they were right. 

And Damen frowned and felt his whole perspective shifting in a way he hadn’t seen before. He nodded. Akielos wasn’t just Ios, not just the wealthy, land owning, entitled old men that thought they could buy the world. Akielos was mostly relied on peasants, and they had bigger problems to think about like the fact they wouldn’t actually be able to produce enough food for the entire kingdom. Now that was a real problem. The problem, he noticed, was not the fact that a bunch of rich people were crying about losing their slaves. The problem was the logic in their society which led them to believe slavery was a just system. The problem was that they didn’t care about the countryside. The problem was that there were other problems Damen should be focusing on.

As if noticing Damen was absorbed in his own thoughts, Laurent’s hand pressed against his thigh, a soft touch to bring him back to the present, oblivious to everyone else. Damen blinked and returned to the conversation, silently grateful to Laurent, just in time to hear Charls saying, “well that’s good to hear. Your king surely looks like a honorable man, much better than the idiot that rules Vere”.

The rant against Laurent was loooooong. He was inexperienced. Vere was a shithole. Veretians were pieces of shit. He hadn’t done anything beyond signing a fucking treaty and think of himself as the savior. They didn’t understand what he was doing at Ios, they did not give a shit about him and they didn’t fucking care about Vere beyond avoiding another war.

One of them had lost his own son at the war, fourteen years ago. 

One of them had lost his brother.

One of them had a cousin who had been left with so many traumas he had been interned on a hospital for the rest of his life. 

They did not want another war.

They also didn’t give a shit about the upcoming marriage -Laurent brought the question up oh so innocently- and they thought it was a waste of money.

About two hours later, Laurent had lost a lot of coins and Damen was feeling tipsy. Most of the men around them were too drunk to keep talking about these boring topics and so the conversation steered from that to talking about women and then asking Laurent about Veretian women and if it was true they were frigid when they fucked and Laurent seemed uncomfortable about it.

Damen knew Laurent would reply something that might give them away, for he looked completely unprepared for that question in particular, so he acted fast, without even thinking, without pondering in his mind about whether this was a good idea or not. He stood up and went to the man playing the kithara in the back and asked him to play ‘The Conquest of Arsaces’ and the song was so popular and so familiar that the men playing cards immediately started singing along, and so did most of the people at the canteen.

Damen came back to his seat quietly and slowly, burdened by the memory of that one song, in that one night. It had simply been the first song that had come to his mind, but he didn’t expect it to feel like this. In fact, he had not heard it in seven years. Sometimes at the Palace someone would request for it to be played, only for Damen to ask for it to stop as soon as it started. 

He could blame it on that fucking yeast drink that was messing up his good senses.

It was the song he had requested to be played as they celebrated they had taken over the forte at Ravenel. It was the song that made him realize there was no turning back, he had been captured by Laurent’s ivory and gold coloring, by his overfine skin, by the squared jaw. 

It was the song he listened to just minutes before he kissed Laurent for the very first time.

He sat on the seat and felt Laurent quiet, still, next to him as the men chorused:

The world was not made for beauty like this.

Damen couldn’t take his eyes off him. 

Laurent, very pointedly, didn’t look at him. Instead, he looked around and swallowed. Damen could tell in his eyes, his stance, his fake nonchalance that he remembered just as much as Damen did.

Damen wondered if he, too, was haunted by the memories of tangled sheets, internal battles, soft moans, whispers of reassurance, smiles between kisses, and the sweet release, the unstoppable, unrelenting, constant feeling that the world finally had fallen into place. The feeling that amidst everything that was wrong, that was right.

Damen couldn’t bear it for much long. So he kept drinking until he finished the beverage.

So did Laurent, neither of them speaking a word.

The song came to an end and the men returned to the game, another song started and as they shuffled the deck they started singing again, drunk enough to feel lighthearted and unaware, bewitched by the yeast and the music.

Laurent was silent. He kept engaging in conversation but it was like his mind was somewhere else entirely, his responses were short, and his voice was slurred, clearly affected by the alcohol. 

Damen simply focused on his game. He really wanted to go back to the Palace.  

And just as he was thinking that, he listened to the door being pushed open and some guards storming into the tavern.

“Oh shit”, Damen whispered through his blurry mind as a small part of his brain, the last cells that were still somehow functioning, reminded him this was his fault. 

Laurent looked at him questioningly and Damen quickly stood up and grabbed Laurent by the hand. The keeper went to talk to the guards and so Damen pushed Laurent beneath the table at the bar and they hid there, their knees crashing against each other and Damen trying to fit himself into the very tiny space as Laurent stared at him in amusement. The music had stooped and everything was silent. And so Damen replied to Laurent’s silent question, whispering: “I’ve been ordering to conduct revision of documents in places that are crowded. They look for the identification of the people and have a list of criminals we are on the lookout for, it’s a way to make certain my people are safe”.

“Do they have a list of Kings?”, Laurent asked. 

Damen smiled.

If the guards found out the two of them were there, well, that would be… not great. 

And thus, they had to keep silent as they heard the guards making their way around the crowd at the tavern and asking them for their documents. Damen was so uncomfortable and he couldn’t move at all for he knew if he moved, the glasses would clank against one another and it would give them away, and so he had to stay still and quiet.

Laurent, on the other hand, looked bored. And that was not a good thing. 

After a couple of minutes, he once again smirked mischievously with that smile that could only mean trouble, and extended his hand. 

He touched Damen’s knee softly, and started rubbing circles around it, featherlight. 

And that was the problem.

“Laurent!”, he whispered.

“What?”, Laurent asked, and when he looked up, his eyes looked unfocused from the alcohol but there was a gleam to them that Damen hated and loved at the same time.

The thing was: the movement with his fingers was tickling. And Damen didn’t react well to being tickled. And Laurent knew that. And Damen didn’t know how Laurent knew that. “Stop it”, he said. 

“I’m not doing anything”, Laurent replied.

Damen moved his arm as softly as he could and finally grabbed Laurent’s fingers to remove them from his knee. 

The movement made the glasses clink a little and Damen had to stand very, very still to not give themselves away. Laurent kept staring at him and when Damen looked up, he realized the situation they were in at the moment was… not ideal. 

“I told you”, Laurent started.

“Yes, yes, it’s the game you like”, Damen complemented, his hand still holding onto Laurent’s fingers.

Since they were face to face, there was nothing more they could do than to stare at each other and be as still as possible.

That, of course, was not a possibility for drunken Laurent, who started rubbing circles in Damen’s hand with his fingers, softly, this time not with the intention of tickling but feeling more like a caress, like a soft reassurance of… something. Damen was too drunk to try and make sense out of it.

It felt good. Way too good. He could let go of his fingers, he really could, but instead he chose to hold onto them more tightly, as if asking him not to stop. And so, Laurent didn’t. He kept rubbing circles on Damen’s hand, studying it, sturdy and heavy against the soft, ivory color of Laurent’s skin. It was a beautiful, perfect contrast. Damen couldn’t stop looking at Laurent, couldn’t. 

Then Laurent moved his fingers, and softly, slowly, simply linked their hands together, his fingers fitting perfectly against the space between Damen’s fingers. He settled there and looked at Damen seriously, determined. Damen swallowed, feeling his heart rushing. “I-”, he started.

“All clear boss”, they heard someone yell behind them and it was like the spell was broken. 

The guards quickly left the tavern and thanked the attendant before making their way out swiftly. 

Damen exhaled, feeling the rush of the heat quickly receding from his brain as he let go of Laurent’s hand. Laurent rubbed his forehead as if he was trying to make his mind work again, clearly the drinking had gotten to him, it was the only logical reason. Damen didn’t really want to think about it for too long. 

“We should leave”, Laurent whispered, his voice softer than Damen had heard it in a long time.

Damen agreed and stood up as the noise filled up the canteen again, the musician returning to the kithara. He truly wanted to go unnoticed, for he didn’t want to talk to more people for the rest of the night. He was starting to feel like the alcohol was producing a negative feeling, so opposite to what he had felt mere minutes ago. Where he had been lightheaded, now he felt his brain heavy, and he felt invaded by a sentiment that hurt, and that he couldn’t put a name to.

He offered a hand to Laurent, the touch they had just shared still looming like a ghost between them, and Laurent stood up groggily. Damen turned to look around and realized there was an exit through the back door. Laurent hastily threw a whole bag of coins over the bar and they left running, and just as they were about to leave, Laurent stumbled against a cabinet filled with glasses, and they all shattered. 

“Fuck!”, Laurent exclaimed. 

“Are you okay?”

Laurent nodded and they heard the bartender approaching them so he took yet another bag of coins and left it there, right next to the mess, and they left running, as fast as they could in that current state, which was not very fast. 

They hid behind a nearby tree, their breathing rushed. The bartender opened the door and looked around, trying to find the culprits but gave up quickly, probably as soon as he noticed the bag of coins lying on the floor. As soon as he walked back in and closed the door, the noise and the little light they had left vanished. 

And Damen and Laurent cracked in laughter. 

It was so stupid. Everything about this night had been so stupid, and yet, it felt so liberating in so many ways. Laurent leaned against the trunk and slid down until he was sitting on the grass. 

Damen followed him, still laughing. 

When they half-recovered, Damen was still breathing hard. He turned to look at Laurent. “Have I proven to you that this was a stupid idea?”

Laurent turned to look at him with a smile on his face, saying: “Have I proven to you that your people think you’re a great ruler and you have nothing to be afraid of?”

Damen was silent for a moment, taken aback. He hadn’t stopped to think about it. Laurent was… right. For amidst the insults towards the Veretians and their King, and amidst the booze and the political comments, they hadn’t said one negative thing about Damianos. 

That was-

Well, that was nice to think about.

It did appease something within Damen that he didn’t even know needed to be appeased. 

Damen exhaled in surprise. “Yes”, he whispered, the alcohol making him annoyingly honest, pulling down his defenses.

Laurent leaned his head against the trunk again. “Then it was not a stupid idea at all”.

Damen smiled softly at him. He reached out and touched Laurent’s awful wig. “This was a stupid idea, though, you look terrible. May I?”.

Laurent nodded and Damen pulled it off. “Much better”, he said as he stared at Laurent’s hair that started to fall down around his face. 

Through only the moonlight, Laurent looked like a vision. 

The world was not made for beauty like this.

And Damen wanted to fuck up so badly, so desperately. 

He closed his eyes and breathed hard. 

And came to a resolution.

Through the haze in his brain, somehow his heart won.

And his heart refused to get broken again. Not when it had hurt that much. 

He couldn’t pull himself through it again, for he knew he would not survive to that ache again. 

He stood up, gathering as much force as he could so as not to lose balance, once again offering his hand to Laurent, who held to it tightly as he rose. Silently, and feeling once again heavy, and so unbearably sad, he turned to ask Laurent if he felt good enough to ride.

Laurent’s reply was dubious. Damen felt notably less drunk than minutes before and so they both climbed onto his horse, Laurent on the back, holding onto Damen so as not to fall.

It was an excruciatingly slow return back to the palace. At some point he realized Laurent had fallen asleep on his shoulder and he was filled with a sense of warmth but at the same time with a coldness that spread through his entire body. 

The frigid, ice-cold feeling of never being able to have what one wants the most, regardless of how much they want it. 

Back at the Palace, he snook in quietly through the stables and felt Laurent stirring against him, immediately backing off Damen. 

Damen climbed down the horse and helped Laurent down. 

Once again they were facing one another. 

Laurent yawned. 

Damen smiled and said, “thank you for that”.

Laurent nodded, his eyes sleepy as he replied, “always a…pl…pleasure to listen to how much Akielons hate me”, slurred.

“Not all akielons”.

“You’re right. Egg doesn’t hate me, yet”.

Damen’s smile was still on place when he said, “goodnight, Laurent”.

And distantly, when he was several feet away, he heard a faint, soft, barely audible, “goodnight, Damen”.

Notes:

I'm afraid the next update will take a little while, I'll be out of the country for work and I'll probably have zero spare time to keep writing, but I promise you I'll do my best to update as soon as possible. For now, no cliffhangers so you won't hate me that much for taking a while. Hope you enjoyed reading the chapter!! I sure enjoyed writing it! x

Chapter 18

Notes:

OH MY GOD I can't believe it's been two months!!!! I'm SO sorry it has taken this long, but as I told you before, I happened to be all over the place with work and had zero time, nor mind, to keep writing. But I'm back babey!! with an extra-long chapter so you can forgive me for taking this long ;) and oh boy... we're here for a ride.

I can promise you the next update will take considerably less time. I can also tell you we are kind of? approaching the finish line... it will take a little while but I can envision it in the horizon :)

Anyway, thank you for your patience, I can't wait to read your thoughts on this chapter and... enjoy ;)

Five weeks after they first held their Council meeting, five weeks after Damen and Laurent had the first chance to talk to one another in a room alone, in a small exchange that went so incredibly wrong because they were filled with anger and resentment and so many things in between, so many questions, so much confusion and with a hint of regret, Damen walked into the meeting room for the last Council meeting with King Laurent before the Summit, with a hungover.

It was early, the meeting would take place in thirty minutes but Damen always found it useful to walk around the paintings hanging in the room to clear his head, which, he had to admit, was foggier than he would like to. There, alone and staring at the many faces of the kings and the queens that came before him, Damen felt the heavy, incredibly heavy weight of the legacy that hung on his shoulders. He had been born to rule and that was it, he had known that from the moment he became aware of who he was, at a very young age, and he had clung to that knowledge and never forgotten about it.

Except for one night.

That one night at Ravenel. 

In that moment he had no longer been a prince in front of another prince. He was Damen facing the most incredible man he had met in his entire life. 

He stood in front of the portrait of his father and silently whispered. “I hope I am making you proud”, and he felt his own voice breaking. He missed him dearly, but mostly, he missed the nostalgia of remembering the life he had once had. That naivety in which the power and the throne seemed unimportant, when all that mattered was to get to his father’s office at sunset to watch the sunset from there and he and Kastor would sit and listen to some anecdote, some story his father wanted them to know about. 

He missed the family he once had thought he had. 

“I am certain you are”, he heard someone whispering behind him.

Damen smiled softly but didn’t turn to look at Laurent, especially because he was one, or the one main reason why Damen was desperately clinging to his commitment to his kingdom. 

Laurent kept walking until he was standing right next to Damen, but he remained silent, examining the painting. Damen felt the need to talk, because the nostalgia was becoming too unbearable for him to bear alone and Laurent felt like a safe place, in a weird, twisted way. “I still remember the day he had to pose for that painting”, Damen said, still feeling the knot on his throat. “He had to stand still for six hours, six. I was eight years old and feeling a little bit mischievous, plus I commanded for attention back then, and so I barged in running into the room and knocked the bucket of paint the artist had next to him and I fell on top of it and ended up covered in green paint, Kastor barged in running to get me out and he slipped and fell on top of me. I looked up, terrified of my father’s reaction, expecting a sever punishment, and when I locked eyes with him, he started laughing. He helped me and Kastor up and kicked us out of the room, but did not get angry, that was just the kind of person he was”. 

Laurent was silent for a minute before replying, “in war, we tend to forget the human beings behind the shield. I hated Theomedes, a part of me still does, just as he hated Veretians, and then I listen to you and remember he was your father and I have… trouble connecting both perceptions to the same person. The ruthless killer against the loving father… I still struggle with that, but I am trying”.

“You don’t have to feel pressured to forgive him, or my people, for what they have done to you”.

The rest of the sentence was hanging in the air. And Damen felt his chest tight, unable to say it, but knowing full well he would have to say it. So he gathered all the strength that he could and he said: “Or me”.

“There is a portrait hanging at Marlas”, Laurent said, unmoving, his eyes still fixed on Theomedes’ portrait, “it is my favorite. Of course I haven’t seen it since-”, he went silent for a moment, “-since. My parents, Auguste and I used to go there for the winter, it is less cold than Arles, and a good place to go hunting. One day Auguste and I went for a walk and while we walked he pointed at the different kinds of flowers that grew in the forest surrounding us, and we gathered some that had not died yet, that were just starting to fall or to lose coloring, and we brought them back to the palace. The royal artist was painting a portrait of Mother and Father, and then said he would paint one of me and Auguste. They tried very hard to make me let go off the flowers for the portrait, I refused, determinedly. And so, the painting is of Auguste, me, and the half-dead, half-alive flowers that I am holding. Auguste, of course, loved the final result”.

“Why haven’t you asked to get it sent to Arles?”

“Because I don’t want to be reminded over and over of what I once had. Of what I lost. It felt like a knife puncturing into a wound that is already open”.

“Yes. I understand the feeling”, a pause and then, “does it still feel like that?”.

Laurent turned to look at Damen. “Yes, but it also carries the burden of… of other memories that will not return”.

“Doesn’t it happen to you”, Damen turned to finally look at him, “that the moments where you are the happiest, you do not even realize that is you at your happiest, and so when you come back to that memory, you cling to the fact that you were extremely happy and you can not help but be haunted by the idea that no matter what you do, where you go, what you accomplish, you will never be as happy as you were in that moment when you didn’t even realize it?”

And if Damen was referring to the night he had kissed Laurent for the first and the last time, well, Laurent didn’t have to know that.

“And you keep coming back to that memory when the present seems unbearable, as some sort of subterfuge, as an eternal reminder that life can be better, that life, sometimes is worth living”, Laurent replied, “yes, it does happen to me”.

“Sometimes, when I’m not even aware, I come back to that subterfuge in my dreams. It is like my brain refuses to let go of those memories, will hold onto them when I have nothing left to hold onto”, Damen said with all honesty.

“And then you wake up and it’s gone”.

And then I wake up and you’re gone, Damen thought but didn’t say out loud. 

Damen didn’t allow enough time for his brain to consider if he was about to say was a bad idea or not, he just said it: “How are we so similar and so incredibly different?”

Laurent turned to look at him and leaned against the table where the Council would gather. “I don’t think”, he replied, “we are that different”.

“No?”

“No”, Laurent said with determination. “You explode and you listen to no reason and it takes someone like you to understand you and stop you and actually make you listen to reason. You are cold minded when you need it and you are astute and good with words, when you must, not better than me, though. You would do anything for your kingdom, anything, no matter the personal cost. See? Not so different”.

Damen hated the fact that Laurent still could read him like a book. The thing was: Damen kept going over and over the fact that Laurent should stop thinking he knew him anymore, after all seven years had passed, and yet, Laurent still knew him so unbearably well, it was difficult to counterargument anything he could say. For yes, perhaps they had matured, perhaps they were now crossed by new experiences, new challenges, but at the very core, they were still the same people they were seven years ago, and that, Damen supposed, was the main reason why he kept feeling like something was pulling him back towards Laurent, because he was basically the same person he had fallen so profoundly, so deeply, so mindlessly for. 

It was silent for a moment, and suddenly Damen felt himself burdened by a question he hadn’t asked, for he hadn’t felt capable to hear the response. “Have you”, he whispered.

“Have I what?”

“Have you forgiven me?”

Laurent looked taken aback. He exhaled and looked down. Without locking his eyes with Damen, he simply asked, “have you forgiven me?”

And suddenly, something seemed to make sense within his brain, and Damen asked the one question he wanted Laurent to reply to at the moment: “Have you forgiven yourself?”

Laurent stopped. Blinked. Blinked again. Opened his mouth. Closed it. “I-”, was all he said, before he fell silent again.

“I do wonder”, he took a step forward, “if you have ever thought about it. If you have ever given yourself the value you deserve. You are not your circumstances, Laurent, you are what you chose to do when you faced those circumstances, and I admire you so much for that, if only you could see that-”.

“Enough”.

“No”.

“Damen-”

“Do you regret it?”

“What-”

“Us”, Damen said breathlessly. “Do you regret that night? Do you regret what led us to that night? Do you regret those nights of sharing the tent and talking until it was almost dawn, those nights when the light was low and our voices were lower and it felt like we were locked in our own universe, apart from everyone else because no one would understand? Do you regret it?”.

“Why is that important now?”

“Because-”, Damen replied, “it has always been important”.

“There are many things I regret, deeply”, Laurent started.

Damen kept looking at him, seriously, unwavering.

“That night is not one of them”.

Damen felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He dragged a deep breath that he felt he had been holding for ages and he felt some tension easing off his back. Some, not all of it. 

“No”. Laurent said after a long silence. “I don’t think I have forgiven myself”.

“I don’t regret it”, Damen replied, “either”.

They stood silent for a couple of minutes, then Damen looked at Laurent: “You should, forgive yourself, I mean”.

“What for? Letting down my family? Bedding my sworn enemy? Fucking up the kingdom? Losing you?”

That last question took Damen off. He took a step back and tried to wrap his head around what Laurent had said. “I find it difficult”, to clear his throat, “to forgive the many mistakes I’ve made”.

Damen chose to ignore the last bit because he truly couldn’t think about it at the moment, it was easier, so much easier than dealing with it. So instead, he said, “What if you focus on the many wonderful things you’ve done?”.

“Such as?”

“Defending the treaty determinedly despite the fact everyone opposed to it”, he said, walking closer, determined, “simply out of humanity, because you couldn’t bear to have someone else lose their brother, their loved one, on another senseless war. You were the brain behind everything, and that includes the fight against your uncle, you are just and honorable, you saved my life, once or twice, regardless of how much you hated me, or claimed to”.

“Can you please stop talking?”

“Why is it so hard for you, Laurent? To recognize the brilliant and wonderful person you are?”

Laurent’s reply was a whisper. “How can you still say that when all I’ve done is to hurt you?”.

Damen shrugged. “You know me, I’m an idiot”.

Laurent laughed and shook his head, he moved forward so his shoulder brushed Damen’s softly. And just as quick as his smile came, it vanished.

Damen frowned. There was something in his expression that definitely gave Laurent away, in a manner that Damen hadn’t seen before, not in such a literal, direct way. 

Damen’s question came out of pure instinct: “Are you okay, Laurent?”

Laurent stood still, stone-like, his eyes widened for a second as he looked down, dead serious. It showed that out of all the things Laurent could have expected, Damen’s question was certainly not one of them. It was as if Laurent hadn’t heard that question in a long time, perhaps ever at all, like no one had bothered that much to even ask, to even question it.

His response was painfully raw and honest when he simply said: “no, I don’t think I am”.

And his voice was broken and he sounded small in a way Damen had never heard before. He moved forward and looked down so his eyes could meet Laurent’s. Suddenly, this felt like the most important task he had to achieve in his life. He wanted Laurent to see him. Truly see him. He wanted to be as honest and as open as Laurent had just been.

“Lo, look at me”.

Laurent looked up and his face looked broken, like he had opened some sort of gates he didn’t know how to close again. Damen’s face was determined, undeterred despite the fact he had never seen Laurent like that. “I have been away, but I have kept my eye on you. I have my messengers and I have heard the tales of Vere’s prosperity and tranquility, everyone’s lives are better, even if they don’t realize or don’t want to. And I know that, I could never be surprised because that’s exactly the person you are. The person who focuses more about teaching a seven-year-old about flowers just so he doesn’t feel lonely, the person who puts the welfare of his kingdom above everything, the person who cares so much about everything but themselves. You deserve everything, Lo. I need you to believe that”.

Laurent simply stared at him. He blinked a couple of times, seriously, his face not giving much away. He was silent for a little while. Fighting the internal battle, Damen reckoned.

Then he seemed to reach a resolution when he said: “You say I deserve everything. I don’t deserve you, Damen”.

And it came from a place of such complete, unbidden, raw honesty, and Damen knew how difficult it was for Laurent to say that, and a place deep inside, deep within himself was still quite angry and hurt, but there was this other, absorbing side that made him care so fucking much, and that showed him that when Laurent confided in him that he was not okay it was because he was definitely, certainly, totally not okay. 

Laurent sighed, as if he was hurting deep within and he closed his eyes, probably willing his brain to bury the feelings down, to pretend like everything was alright. 

Just in time they heard some rumble coming from the hallway. The council was approaching the room. Damen simply squeezed Laurent’s shoulder in reassurance and nodded at him. “The ruins, tonight?”, he asked.

Laurent placed his hand on top of Damen’s as he muttered a soft “yes”, and then, “thank you”.

The Council walked in and suddenly Laurent’s facade was back in place, so seamlessly. His nonchalance and his posture gave absolutely nothing away. Damen couldn’t understand how Laurent was capable of turning it on and off like a switch. 

The meeting was… fine, Laurent was silent for the most part and didn’t intervene much. Jord was also there and the Akielon Council made a few warnings -or threats- not to put the treaty nor the relationship with Akielos in any danger during the summit. Laurent agreed in the most diplomatic way, which was unusual, and probably for the Council, slightly alarming.

As soon as the meeting finished, Nik motioned for Damen to follow him. 

Damen did so, and they walked out of the room and into an empty room nearby. Nik’s face was serious.

“What?”

Nik rubbed his eyebrows, looking quite exhausted. “I don’t even know if I should ask you this. I feel like I might regret it”.

“Just say it”.

“Where were you last night?”

Damen blinked, clearly not expecting that. 

“…Remember how I had told you a couple of days before that we were to receive a couple of visitors from Vask? Well, they arrived last night, and you were nowhere to be found”.

Damen swallowed. Shit shit shit shit shit he had forgotten about it, in fact he didn’t even remember it. They were supposed to receive them and greet them and the next day -meaning that night- they were to have a reception hosted by both Damen and Laurent.

He had forgotten about it.

“…Neither was King Laurent”.

“So Irina and I had to welcome them, make quick excuses for you, pretend you were feeling ill, and cover it up. Then I get notice you have arrived to the Palace, in a horse with the King of Vere, at five in the morning”.

Damen looked down, clearly not expecting that. He cleared his throat, “hm, I- ”.

Nik put a warning hand before saying, “do not even try to deny it or to create excuses, Damen. How stupid do you think I am?”.

“It is not-”

“It is not what exactly? What do you think I am thinking right now? Go ahead, say it”.

“We are not, it isn’t-”.

“Are you aware of what is at stake, Damen? In this particular moment? Do you see the consequences of what you’re doing? Don’t you-”, he cleared his throat, “-don’t you remember what he put you through during these seven years? The hell it has been for you?”

That shook Damen out of his stupor. “Enough!”, he half-said, half-yelled. He clenched his fists and forced himself to lower his voice when he replied, “I am not bedding the King of Vere. We haven’t even- it’s not, that. I haven’t given you permission to address me in such a manner, so you will talk to me like an advisor talks to his king”.

Nik rose an eyebrow, defiantly, but didn’t say anything else.

“I am quite aware of the past, of the present and of the burden I carry with me. I do not need you to remind me of that. The only thing you must know is that nothing is happening”.

A lie.

“And nothing will happen?”, Nik asked.

Damen swallowed. He wished deep within that the reply would be other, that he would get a maybe, a perhaps in the horizon, but there’s no such thing for a king, there never has. “I will get married in a week and a half. That is all you need to know”.

Nik crossed his arms and sat in a chair, he seemed to calm down and lowered his voice as he asked: “is that truly what you want?”

The question took Damen by surprise yet again, apparently the day was filled with things he didn’t see coming. He sighed as he sat next to Nik. This was Nik. The one person who knew him better than he knew himself, the one person who he could confide in, he could trust blindly, the one that would advise him without bias, well, except for his apparent -or quite evident- contempt towards Laurent. So he chose to be honest. “It is what I have to do”.

“That wasn’t my question, Damen”.

Damen closed his eyes. “She is a magnificent woman, and in another lifetime, in another world, I would have loved to love her. But-”, he swallowed, and helplessly, hopelessly, unbearably broken, all he managed to say was, “she is not Laurent”.

Nik looked at him with something akin to pity drawn in his eyes. He didn’t say anything else, so Damen continued. “We have grown closer together these past few days. And it reminds me so much of how easy it was, how simple it was, amidst everything that is so difficult, we just sat next to each other and talked and… it made sense. But I know where my loyalty lays, I know what we’ve lost, and I know there’s no hope in getting it back, and it hurts. But I’ll survive. Just like I have for the past seven years. I just-”, he cleared his throat, “I just keep thinking that after the wedding these moments of speaking clearly and honestly, of doing silly things, of simply being us, they’ll be gone, forever. And I want to cherish them, while they last”.

He then turned to look at Nik. “Please don’t ask me to give up on those tiny moments. They are all I have left. Of him. It’s my own way of saying goodbye”.

Nik nodded, pity still drawn on his face, a look so empathetic Damen hadn’t seen before on him, not when it came to Laurent, at least. 

“I’m sorry, Damen”, Nik whispered, “I truly am. I wish you could be happy, and I can tell, just by looking at you, that he makes you happy”.

Damen nodded as he closed his eyes. “Yes, but losing him made me so fucking miserable. And the worst part was never knowing why, living for the rest of my life wondering what I could have possibly done wrong, what led him to choose to leave without another word”.

“Have you asked him?”

“I’m not certain I want to know the answer”.

“Perhaps it will help you move forward”.

“Or keep tying me to the past”.

“I don’t think so. I think you need some sort of closure, and as long as you keep asking yourself what if? You will not move forward”.

“But-”

“What?”

“I know all the feelings I have buried, I have neglected or ignored, will come back in a rush. And I’m afraid those might even create a ruse between kingdoms”.

“Well, thankfully he wasn’t that much of an idiot and your peace treaty is still standing. Perhaps it will come in handy in that situation”.

Damen smiled. Then he stood still, contemplative. Nik was right. For the last couple of days, more than ever, he had felt that he needed answers, and Laurent was the only person who could provide them.

*******

Irina was definitely not happy when they met again, and Damen could not blame her. She was in her chambers, getting ready for the dinner with the Vaskian visitors, when Damen walked in. She didn’t even greet him, she simply opened the door wider and walked back inside. 

“I know you’re angry”, Damen said. “And I have no excuse”.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not coming up with any lie to cover up the fact you keep doing the one thing I asked you not to do: keeping me in the dark”.

Damen stayed silent. 

“I refuse to pose as simply your wife. I will not be a trophy, a symbol of the good relationship between you and Patras and nothing more. I already told you that, yet you keep choosing to ignore me. It will not work like this, I’m afraid. Where were you last night?”

“I was talking to Laurent-”

“Where? Both of you were nowhere to be found”.

“Nearby- I. We’ve been planning the Summit and meeting after the day is done to discuss what we would do on any given scenario, to respond as a unified bloc. That’s it”. 

“And what about Patras?”

“What about Patras?”

“You and Laurent are the unified bloc. You’re ignoring the fact you have here the one person who knows Patras better than anyone else. I’m not asking you to include me in your workout sessions, I don’t care. But I’m asking you to treat me as your equal. Yet you constantly refuse -or worse, forget- to do so. If this is how it is going to be for the rest of our marriage, let me know in advance and I will walk away”.

“You say you would walk away as if you wouldn’t have a commitment to your kingdom-”

“I have a commitment to myself first and foremost, Damen. There are factors that are non-negotiable. I will not force myself to live unhappily, and I’m afraid that is what will happen if things keep being like this. Someone else can focus on improving the relationship between Akielos and Patras, someone else can take my place. I’m doing this because I care for you and I like you, but if it costs me sacrificing my own values, reducing myself to the role of just being your wife whenever you need it, well, no. I will not do it”.

The thing was, Irina was absolutely right. And in that moment, Damen took notice of how different they were. Whilst he was putting his kingdom before his happiness, she was prone to sacrifice everything for her own happiness, which came as quite a shock when he realized if the marriage was cancelled, she could lose quite literally everything. So many things were at stake and yet she chose to stay true to herself.

He admired her for many things, but at that moment he found a new sort of respect towards her. 

At the end, he conceded, and apologized, and briefly, scrappily, rushed, attempted to explain her what had come out of those nights of conversations with Laurent, to which she provided some useful insights and advices. As the conversation moved forward, Damen could tell her anger was vanishing, as she took more on to the role of an advisor and much less on the role of a wife-to-be. And Damen had to admit it was fascinating to see the glint in her eyes as she talked about it, so passionately. When they were done, he smiled at her and she smiled back, a soft smile that meant things were okay, for now. 

****

The dinner was a long and boring event that seemed to bring back to the surface the exhaustion that Damen had buried and ignored before. This routine of everyday getting about three hours of sleep was finally catching up to him but at the moment there was no time to waste. So, after the speeches were over, and the dancers were brought, and the meal was finished and the liquor started being handed over, Damen zigzagged his way towards Laurent, who was talking to Lady Vannes, who had arrived with the rest of the Vaskian group. 

Vannes rose an eyebrow as Damen approached them and looked at him appreciatively. “Always good to see you again, your Majesty”. 

He had crossed paths with her a couple of times since he became a King, and it was always awkward. Whenever he had to face anyone who had known him as Laurent’s slave, it was the same. He felt Laurent’s discomfort as well, his back suddenly growing tense. Damen opted to make small talk with her and she kept eyeing the two of them mischievously. Of course, everyone who had known him as Laurent’s slave, had known him as Laurent’s bed slave, and it was clear she was fascinated with the whole idea behind it, the fact that she was facing two kings who had been intimate with one another clearly did not escape her, and she couldn’t hide her amusement at it. As soon as she found the chance, she asked him about Irina.

Damen fumbled an improvised response as Laurent drank from a glass of wine. 

After a while, Damen realized escaping this ordeal was not an option, as was his first intention. Instead, he caved and chose to make small talk with the passersby, whilst Laurent remained engaged in conversation with Lady Vannes. He chose to go back to Irina and stay by her side for the remainder of the event, and if Vannes kept throwing a curious glance or two at them, well he could pretend not to notice. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Irina finally announced she was going back to her chambers and before she left, she gave a kiss to Damen, who ignored the gaze of the attendees, especially from that corner where Vannes and Laurent were still in. Slowly, the music faded, and the room emptied. Nik simply threw a glance at Damen as he walked towards the door, and after a while, finally Damen was able to approach Laurent. 

He grabbed him by the elbow and pushed him aside. “I need to talk to you”, he said as he started walking towards the stable. They were very lucky, for most of the people were already in their chambers or were concentrated in the great room. 

“That is immediately clear”, Laurent replied. 

Damen didn’t say another word, couldn’t. He mounted his horse and could hear the hooves of Laurent’s mare right behind him as he rode towards the ruins. His head was a mess, full of scattered thoughts that he tried hopelessly to organize. 

The ride seemed like an eternity, or like it didn’t last long enough. Damen couldn’t decide which of the two.

There was one certainty, though. 

He would get his answers. 

And so, as he climbed off his horse, he waited for Laurent to come to a halt and touch the ground. He turned to look at him and bursted a simple, rushed, pained: “I need you to tell me why you left”.

Laurent dragged in a deep breath as he seemed to come to the resolution that he, too, needed to leave it out in the open. 

 

Chapter 19: Interlude - Seven years before

Notes:

I am back!!! Happy New Year everyone!! I hope it's a good one for you. These past months have been... difficult, to say the least, so I want to start by apologizing to you for taking so long to update, but know I'm still working on this little one and I'm pouring all my love for those two and the little free time I have left onto it.

This chapter will hopefully give you some answers... and it is the longest chapter I've written so I hope it somehow makes it up to you. Haven't revised it but I truly wanted to give it to you as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy it and prepare yourselves for what is coming because... well, let's just say I'm really looking forward to it.

Thank you so much for reading and I send you all my love and hugs. xx

Seven years before.

The ride from the entrance of Arles towards the palace was filled with cheers of victory. Faces, faces and more faces, everywhere he looked at. All of them smiling profusely, with pride, with joy, expecting a new beginning, trusting their king.

Laurent felt like a prisoner.

He waved at them but he felt no emotion behind it whatsoever. He didn’t feel… anything. It was as if he had desensitized himself from the world. He was led around, he was taken to a place and then the other. And then a crown had been shoved into his head right in front of all the public, and he was a king.

Jord clapped him on the back, excitement drawn in his face.

Laurent pronounced a speech he had barely had time or peace of mind to produce.

Laurent thought about Auguste with a deep sense of nostalgia.

Laurent thought about Damen, lying on that cot.

Laurent thought about every single moment, every single situation that had brought him to this place.

He should be happy, he really should.

He shouldn’t be feeling like he was throwing himself into a dark hole he could not escape from.

He made himself a promise: he would do everything for them.

Everything in his hands to prevent another war. Another senseless death.

The bells rang. Over and over and over. It was a deafening noise.

Bells.

And the memory brought him back. 

 

One week before

The bells kept ringing over and over and over and Laurent felt like he was going to be sick. His back hurt, his legs hurt. He was covered in blood and most of it was Damen’s. 

He could feel his fingers trembling, a sign he was about to experience some sudden rush of anxiety. He tried to calm it down. Swallowed. Took a deep breath. 

Couldn’t breathe.

Alright, it was an intense rush of anxiety. He used to get those, before. Often accompanied by nightmares, most of them involving Auguste. Some of them involving his uncle. 

He curled and uncurled his fists. Over and over again.

It didn’t work.

He needed to fix his attention elsewhere. Not on the sight in front of him. It would only make it worse. 

He fixed his eyes on the window. 

It was almost dawn and he was a king. 

And his uncle was dead.

And Kastor was dead.

And Damen was laying on that fucking cot and Laurent had to see him bleeding out. 

The bells had chimed and his life would never be the same.

And he should feel relieved, he truly should. 

Instead all he felt was this deep, paralyzing fear invading him. It was as if his brain could not form any coherent thought, like he was frozen, desperate to do something when nothing could be done. He couldn’t command his brain, he couldn’t command his body. All he could do was to stare at the sunrise whilst he moved his hands that were still covered in blood.

Damen had lost consciousness right after Laurent killed Kastor. 

And that was when the paralyzing fear started. 

He looked around and yelled at everyone, at nothing, at the air, to go get Paschal. 

He tried to pick Damen up but his legs were unresponsive, he couldn’t make himself move, because Damen was fucking bleeding. 

It felt like an eternity but finally someone got some help. The bleeding had stopped for the most part but it was dripping down Laurent’s hands.

If he could, he would have killed Kastor a hundred times.

He was sweating and his heart was rushing and he was desperate to give his mind some sort of clarity but he got nothing. 

Damen was unconscious. His blood in Laurent’s hands.

He couldn’t think.

He closed his eyes. His heart was pounding fast. He had to breathe why was he forgetting how to breathe. 

It’s dawn and you’re alive and he’s alive and you’re a king. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

Poom. His heart said. 

And he’s a king. 

Poom. 

And he might die.

Poom.

And he almost died.

Poom. 

And what if he dies?

Poom.

It was one kingdom once. 

Poom. 

Laurent, I am your slave.

Laurent stood up and started pacing around the room, restless, realizing he had gained enough command of his brain to actually do that. He heard the groans of the other soldiers that had been injured at the battle, inside the makeshift infirmary.

Paschal was taking too long.

Laurent sat down and wondered, not for the first time, if he had made one huge mistake: not making use of the little time he and Damen had had left.

Of course he had thought about it. Usually late at night, when his mind took him back to Ravenel, and he realized with a pang it wasn’t just the feeling of Damen inside him that he craved for, no, actually, what he craved was the intimacy behind it, the fact Damen would sometimes stare deep into his eyes and say with his face whatever he could not say with words. The fact he would stop to caress him, ask him if he was alright, and smile at him, his eyes shining bright. Laurent ached to see it, had for a long time.

But when they faced one another to speak their truth, Laurent realized there was nothing to be done.

They did not get another chance to talk openly about what they felt, to try and find a resolution, and that for Laurent, had meant there wouldn’t be one at all. He didn’t understand what Damen felt. He couldn’t understand what he felt.

Since he saw Damianos again, he started fighting many internal battles within himself. The unyielding attraction versus the deep hatred, the man versus the myth, the truth behind those lies. 

But after Ravenel, Laurent had been angry. Angry because it wasn’t fair to him. How could he have fallen for the one person he had vowed to destroy? How had he allowed it to happen? How could he have been so stupid as to allow him in? Meet him in his most secret, intimate version?

How could he have bedded his brother’s killer?

So when they faced each other once again after Ravenel, the choice had been easy: the internal battle had been won, he had chosen to hate Damianos, out of pure force of will.

There were two main reasonings behind that choice:

1. Laurent was so fucking angry, because Auguste’s death was still an open wound within him.
2. It was impossible to envision any other possible outcome to this. There was no way forward for them. Whatever had happened between them always had an expiration date, and Laurent would rather it would come sooner than later. For the longer he nurtured his brain, the worse it would be, saying goodbye. 

His only commitment was to his kingdom. Had been from the moment Auguste had died. And the fucking prince - king now, apparently - of Akielos would not ruin it. Could not get in the way.

And yet.

And yet he had also imagined how wonderful it would have been. In another universe, in another moment, under other circumstances. 

He shook his head and brought himself back to the present. It wouldn’t do him well to dwell on what could never be.

Now Damen was laying on a bed and Laurent was not actually certain if he would survive and he was on the border of an anxiety attack and he couldn’t breathe and it hurt so much to even think about it he was doing his utmost to ignore it but all his thoughts were leading him back to that place and he wanted to sob but he couldn’t for he was to become a king. That was not what kings did.

In another universe, perhaps. 

Paschal finally opened the door and Laurent couldn’t help himself but stop dead in his tracks and rush towards him. He wasn’t even capable of hiding the traces of concern and hopelessness from his face and he fucking hated it. In fact, Paschal looked surprised for a second, clearly not expecting Laurent to look like that, but he did manage to school his features better.

“How is he”, Laurent asked, his voice barely above a whisper, already fearing terribly the outcome of that question.

Paschal was taking his gloves off as he said. “It was a deep cut, a couple of organs were damaged but it is not a mortal injury. For now. We have to see his evolution. I gave him a powerful syrup to help with the pain, I hope he wakes up in about eight hours”.

“Is he-”, Laurent cleared his throat, “are there going to be repercussions in the future?”

Paschal shrugged. “It is too soon to tell, Your Majesty”.

“You are supposed to be a fucking physician and you can’t give me the one answer I am demanding”, Laurent felt his anger and frustration building up. 

Paschal clearly was not having it. “I am a physician, not a wizard. I have done everything in my hands to save him. Whatever happens next, it is up to him and the way his body recovers”, he then added, as a forethought, “Your Majesty”.

“I hope your everything is good enough. For your own welfare”.

“Only time will tell”.

“If you- If he”, he was feeling himself breathless, “if he dies”, and it hurt so fucking much to say it, “I will strap you to a pole and order you lashed until you have forgotten your name. It is a promise”.

That did seem to scare Paschal off. Laurent didn’t care. The one person who could stop him and his tongue from getting out of control was laying unconscious on a cot.

“Noted”, was all Paschal said.

He did a small reverence and was about to go to the rest of the tiny rooms in the infirmary when Laurent stopped him. “Can I”, another deep breath, “Can I see him?”

Paschal stared Laurent up and down, clearly thinking a thousand thoughts he would not dare speak aloud. Laurent detested to be this open, this transparent, but he had no other choice, not when the only thought in his brain was that he needed to see Damen, desperately. 

“You may”, was all Paschal said and he moved a few steps so Laurent could walk in. Which he did, faster than he would have liked to.

If Laurent didn’t know the circumstances, he could have sworn that Damen was just asleep. There was a frown in his face as if he was in deep, deep pain. Laurent sat in front of him and simply allowed himself a moment to stare at him. It had been a while since Laurent had taken the time to do it, and so he took his time and examined him softly. 

He missed him deeply. Whatever had happened between them, whatever had grown between them, whatever he had allowed to happen, he was aching to have it again. He reached out and softly caressed the back of his hand, lovingly, because it was the only thing he felt he could do without causing Damen pain.

It seemed like that was the only thing he was capable of lately. Hurting everyone around him. It was as if that feeling he carried around within him could be passed onto other people, and so he projected his pain, his loneliness and his hopelessness on everyone that surrounded him. 

“Well, this just will not do”, was the first thing Laurent said. “You need to heal. We will both be kings of our kingdoms and we will bring prosperity and peace”.

The fingers that were caressing the back of Damen’s hand moved without him even intending to. Instead, he linked their fingers together, a sign of alliance, a sign of trust, a sign of love.

No, not that last one. 

He couldn’t.

He closed his eyes and his voice was a whisper. “That is the way it must be. We were born to rule”.

All the words he pronounced were as if they were not meant for Damen, but for him, as if he was desperately trying to convince himself. “That is the way it must be for us”.

And what else was there to say? It was the truth. The thing was: their kingdoms came first. And Laurent had a lot on his mind. He still had Kastor’s blood on his hands, just as seven years before Damen had had Auguste’s and he understood the many, many differences, but he couldn’t help but wonder if, when Damen would wake up, he would feel the same thing Laurent felt when he realized that he had no family left, that Damianos had killed his last hope. And he wondered if Damen would hate him for the rest of his life, and if he still believed those words they had said to one another when Damen finally came forward and revealed who he was. They didn’t get any other chance, Laurent never got to explain that he was always fighting an internal battle between love and hate, but he had decided a long time ago that he had lost that battle, and he never got to tell Damen that much. 

Now Kastor was dead and Auguste was dead and they didn’t have a family anymore and Damen would wake up to that harsh, cruel reality whilst still believing Laurent hated him deeply, now to become a king. 

Laurent imagined the surprise, the fear, the hatred in Damen’s eyes, and to think it would be directed at him… he couldn’t deal with that. 

He held onto Damen’s hand, imagining a different reality, a different life. 

He stood there for a long time, or perhaps a short one, it was difficult to tell. It seemed like an eternity either way, and not long enough. 

He whispered at Damen, something directed only to his ears, for he didn’t want anyone to listen. This, whatever this had been, was only theirs. 

“I’m sorry”, was all he whispered.

And what else was there for him to say?

He cleared his throat. “I suppose I came here-”, he swallowed, “to say goodbye”.

There had been one time when Laurent felt a piercing pain, sharp and sudden, that left him breathless and gasping desperately for air. So incredibly sudden that he had no proper way to prepare for it, to avoid it. The worst part of that pain was that it was undetectable. Paschal had a balm for when his muscles ached, or a syrup for the headache, but this kind of pain that seemed to spread all over his body, to invade every inch of it and yet he was unable to identify the root, and thus it was untreatable, he had felt that kind of pain only once.

Seven years ago, when he had found out Auguste had died. 

He supposed now he could say he had felt it twice. 

He gasped for air. 

Sudden, sharp, rendering him powerless. 

He couldn’t prepare for it, he didn’t expect it to hurt this much. 

He carried on. The pain was now invading his lungs, breathing hurt, his brain, thinking hurt, his skin, holding Damen’s hand hurt. 

He closed his eyes and forced himself to keep talking, to say it. Damen wouldn’t hear it, but Laurent would remember it for the rest of his life. It was his promise. 

“I wish it could have been otherwise between us. I wish I didn’t have to let go of your hand. I wish-”

He cleared his throat. 

“I ache to be with you. I have for too long, against the odds, against my wishes, against my common sense. You have broken through every single barrier. Only you could do that”, he smiled and as he did he realized a couple of tears rolled down his face he hadn’t felt them coming at all, not through the pain. “Only you could make me love you and hate you desperately at the same time”.

Oh. Well, he hadn’t expected that to slip. 

Love. 

The pain only became sharper, as if that was even possible. 

He swallowed it. Forced himself to continue:

“This is not fair for you”, his voice was hoarse. “You deserve better, Damen. You don’t deserve someone who is broken beyond repair. You don’t deserve an-”… “an impossible love”.

And wasn’t that the truth.

“And I know you would smack me in the head and try and make me see reason, and you would say I’m being idiotic and with one look you would convince me to stay here with you and I wouldn’t look back, I wouldn’t care, and our kingdoms would pay the price for our recklessness”.

He held Damen’s hand tighter. 

“…And I can’t have that”.

A deep breath. 

He murmured a broken: “How is it possible that you are both the worst thing and the best thing that has happened to me? How can I reconcile that?”

He muffled a sob and looked down. 

“We both have a duty to perform. A duty that outgrows us. That outgrows this. I leave you to become a King. You will leave to become a King. And Vere and Akielos will live on as a testament of everything we felt, of everything we once were. And that- that will have to be enough”.

“I’m afraid I cannot see a way forward for us.”.

And he had tried. In those lonely, desperate nights after they had their fallout, Laurent had fought against the desperate impulse to run towards Damen’s tent and kiss him senselessly, to melt into one another. In those nights, he tried to think of a possible outcome that would bring them together and that didn’t end with another separation. This one had become almost unbearable, and if he allowed it to happen again, he was terrified he wouldn’t survive to the pain it would bring to himself. 

“…I don’t even know it that is truly what you want. We never got the chance to say it out loud. And I suppose I prefer it that way”.

He brought Damen’s hand forward and kissed it softly, caressing the rough skin that now was so relaxed due to the medicines, and he kept his lips there, knowing full well that when he walked away, there would be no turning back. There would not be a second chance, not a what if? Damen would hate him for the rest of his life. Laurent would hate himself. But Vere and Akielos would gain their kings. 

“But know that I will always miss you. Always”.

He stood there, with his lips against Damen’s hand, just listening to his breathing. 

Suddenly, he heard a shuffle behind him. He closed his eyes, not really feeling like parting, so whoever was there would have to see him right there.

“Your highness”, the voice behind him said, the title sounding incredibly foreign for Laurent.

It was Jord. 

Laurent didn’t turn. “Yes, Jord?”.

Jord’s voice sounded clearly uncomfortable but certainly not surprised. He had been the one who had caught them during their first kiss, after all.

Jord stood still for a moment, before walking towards Laurent, probably assessing the severity of Damen’s injuries. 

“Pardon me for…interrupting… the troops are wondering when we will return to Arles. If you would allow me to intervene… I think it is mandatory to return as soon as possible and claim your rightful place at the throne”. 

Laurent felt exhausted, absolutely exhausted all of the sudden. He let go of Damen’s hand and turned towards Jord. “Getting war flashbacks, Jord?”

“Pardon me?”

“Staring at this. Does it remind you of Aimeric?”

Laurent visibly saw Jord’s air leaving his body. He was frozen with shock for a moment, before he regained his senses, cleared his throat, straightened his back, clenched and unclenched his fists, and put his facade back on. 

Laurent really thought he would enjoy seeing Jord’s sudden response, but he felt a void and a sense of emptiness that didn’t seem to be fulfilled with anything. 

“Doing this will not make you feel better, your highness. Will not make parting easier”, was all Jord replied.

“I beg to differ”, not letting go of Damen’s hand.

“It will not change the outcome”, Jord continued, “either”.

“I do not wish to change the outcome”.

“If repeating that to yourself will soothe you, then by all means keep doing so…”, Laurent looked at him with killer eyes and Jord rushed to add a faint “…your highness”.

Laurent opened his mouth to reply when Jord raised his hand to stop him, a gesture that was clearly a breach of the limits when addressing a royal. The immediate shock of it gave him a couple of seconds to start speaking before Laurent would: “If I may… offer my advice”.

Laurent eyed him expectantly. 

“Vere needs you. It needs a King”.

And with that, he left.

And Laurent wanted to kill him and his stupid, intrusive ass. Who did he think he was? After sucking Aimeric’s dick, he didn’t have any authority to advise him on how to proceed. He wanted to go after him and order him lashed until he had a proper reason to whine about, he wanted to relieve him of his duties, wanted to shut his fucking mouth.

Wanted to shut his fucking mouth to ignore the fact that he was absolutely right.

Vere needed him more than what Damen could possibly need him at the moment. There was not much he could do, other than hold onto his hand and mutter a thousand goodbyes that would never be heard. 

And yet, as he reassured himself once again that the right thing was to say goodbye, he felt as if he was dying a thousand deaths.

A thousand excuses would not be enough. He knew Damen would hate him for the rest of his life. He knew Damen would think he still hated him and he would hate himself for that for the rest of his life.

He knew that as soon as he crossed that door and bid Damen goodbye, he would never be able to forgive himself.

And yet, he knew it was the right thing to do.

A thousand deaths.

He softly caressed the back of Damen’s hand with his fingers, feeling its callousness, it’s roughness, for the very last time.

He focused his gaze on his lashes, his curls, the small dimples whenever he smiled, his lips.

He swallowed and forced himself to say one last goodbye that felt like a thousand goodbyes. And yet not enough at all.

One last glance at Damen.

Crossing the threshold.

Not looking back.

That last step meant stepping into a world he didn’t recognize, jumping into the emptiness, hoping desperately there was something to hold his fall.

Not looking back.

A thousand deaths.

He swallowed a thousand tears.

He left a thousand goodbyes unsaid.

And he walked away.

 

Seven years later

Laurent woke up with a start. Blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the light, taking it in. A deep breath, then another. Another. And in that limbo between consciousness and sleep, he understood. As he had so many times before.

He’d dreamt of Ravenel.

Once again.

His head was aching and that day he had a weird feeling in his stomach, one he couldn’t really get rid of. He blamed it on the tension and stress from the last couple of days.

His uncle had prepared one last gamble.

And the rebels were becoming stronger, if the assassination attempt was anything to go by. As he pondered his possibilities, Laurent spent several restless nights, coming up with plans, ideas, anything that might guarantee his rightful place at the throne.

And when he managed to get any sleep, well, his mind brought him back to Ravenel.

It had become worse since the attempt against his life. That was instantly apparent. And the reason was quite simple: through the pain and the worry and the shock, only one thought crossed his mind and inserted itself there, like a cross itching itself onto the ground:

I might die and Damen will never know.

And that was truly a stupid thought to have. A stupid idea to nurture. But Laurent blamed it on the fact that the blood, the injuries, the circumstances, made him remember that one time. The cot. The bells. The last goodbye.

Damen will never know. The depth of his feelings, what he didn’t say. What he always regretted, why he had to let go.

And that single thought opened the gates to a thousand tunnels, roads and labyrinths he had managed to conceal from the corners of his brain a long time ago.

When Auguste died, Laurent forced himself to compartmentalize his pain.

Think of it like a trunk with the most valuable, most precious memories. Only that trunk was in a corner of his brain, and he didn’t allow himself to open it, for the sudden burden of the memories would become too much and actually break him.

And so, he hid his pain. Secluded it until it didn’t hurt that much anymore.

So when the pain, the numbing, awful, blinding pain of losing Damen came, he knew what to do, the only defense mechanism he knew to protect himself.

And the nights of plotting, the escapade to the inn, the encounter with the Vaskian tribe, their fallout, the final battle, the bells, the blood, the last goodbye, Ravenel.

To that one compartment in the corner of his brain.

It didn’t mean it didn’t hurt anymore. But the pain wouldn’t kill him. And he would get used to live with the residuals of the pain that managed to make their way out of the trunk.

That was what was left.

He held several meetings that day, but his mind kept diverting somewhere else, everywhere else. Taking him back with a sense of nostalgia and regret that he felt he couldn’t contain anymore, against his better judgement, against his will, against his brain. Seven years later, Damen still managed to break through every single barrier. 

The day was almost over and Laurent was aching to get it done, his head was killing him. And then he saw Guymar approaching, slowly, carefully, as if he was about to attempt to tame a beast. 

Laurent frowned as he grew closer and closer. 

He stood in front of Laurent and examined him, an envelope in his hand.

“S.. Sir…”, he said. “The Palace received this envelope, addressed… to you”.

That was not the usual protocol. His correspondence was delivered in the morning, during breakfast. If they had chosen not to wait until the next day, it meant it was urgent.

Laurent took it and Guymar didn’t leave. He stood there, eyeing him warily, but expectantly. 

He recognized the red seal with the lion. He had engraved it into his memory ages ago.

The headache was back with more intensity, mixed with the sudden rush of blood in his ears, the increase in his heartbeats, the symptoms of an unusual kind of shock.

All Laurent could say was: “You lost the bet on who had to hand me this, I presume”.

And with that, he left.

The chambers were hot, way too hot. It took him too long to take off his jacket, there were too many knots and it was choking him. He couldn’t breathe. His hands were sweating. 

The red seal with the lion.

The red seal with the lion.

He took a knife and opened it, expecting, no, aching to see Damen’s handwriting, to overanalyze it, to read through the lines.

He had only received one letter from Damen in the past seven years.

On his birthday, six years ago.

It simply said:

Happy birthday.

All hail the alliance.

He never replied.

It was unusual, it was worrisome, it was terrifying, it was captivating, seductive, it was everything and nothing at all. 

He ached for it.

The office of the Kingdom of Akielos on the power bestowed by King Damianos, invites you to

The marriage of King Damianos of Akielos and Lady Irina of Patras.

 

The paper slid out of his fingers. Suddenly, unexpectedly, they were trembling. 

His first thought, rational, cold, simple: I knew this day would come.

His second thought, passional, all-encompassing, unstoppable: I need to get him back.

Oh.

Well. 

He didn’t know where that thought had come from.

Except he did. He always had. 

And there it was, again.

The sharp, piercing, sudden pain.

Compartmentalize. Compartmentalize. Compartmentalize. 

He couldn’t.

His lungs weren’t receiving enough air and it was difficult to think like this. It was too hot. He was choking on an invisible rope, a rope he had placed upon himself seven years ago.

Laurent, I am your slave.

All he managed to do was to stand up and rush towards his desk, and throw every single thing that was laying on top of it. 

Attend me.

He sat on the floor, his hands pressing to his eyes.

I don’t care. Tomorrow you leave. But you’re mine now.

Except he wasn’t. He never was. 

They never were.

They never became.

In between them, only lies, a fake hatred, a desperate need to run away from whatever it was.

In between them, everything. And absolutely nothing at all.

He fell asleep at some point throughout the night, exhaustion finally catching up to him.

He dreamt of Ravenel.

*****

If Laurent looked back in an attempt to describe what the days that followed were like, he would not have succeeded.

For the life of him, he could not remember them.

It was as if a fog had invaded his mind, his being, his feelings, his thoughts.

He didn’t know what had happened. He didn’t know what had been discussed. He didn’t know what he’d dreamt of but he had a pretty good guess.

He carried on with life.

Except life seemed to carry on without him. Without his brain fully functioning, at least. 

If anyone from the royal court looked back in an attempt to describe what the days that followed were like, the answer would be unanimous: nothing like what they had experienced ever before.

Because they knew Laurent at his angriest, at his sharpest, at his most calculating self. 

They had never seen Laurent at his… saddest.

It was unusual.

He was awfully quiet. He was not explosive. Did not reply. He simply nodded along and intervened when it was strictly necessary. Other than that, he remained quiet, but not in his usual, contemplating, calculating way, more like in an absent, numb way.

As if he had abstracted himself from reality.

And everyone was confused. Well, except for one person. Jord.

The rest thought it had something to do with the assassination attempt but Jord knew better than that. To Laurent, that was a challenge, not something to be sad about. No, the reason had to be much more powerful, more important, more prominent.

Word had gotten out that Damianos might finally get married.

And there was the answer.

Jord remembered the utter, complete reverence with which Laurent had stared at Damen as he laid on that cot as he bled out. He never forgot about it. It was his own reminder that Laurent was human. And that he, too, made mistakes. And that he, too, would do them again if they made him feel so fucking alive.

Jord knew. But never said it. Laurent would come around to it. Would find its way out.

Except- he didn’t expect that Laurent would announce a couple of days later that he was going on a six-weeks visit to Akielos. And he would tag along.

But then, he, too, would do them again if they made him feel so fucking alive.

 

Five weeks before

Akielos was too warm for his riding clothes. He knew that as soon as they crossed the border at Delpha. But Ios was different, it was somehow worse, if that was even possible. Or perhaps that wasn’t the reason, not really. 

As he stepped into the palace, Laurent wondered, not for the first time, if he had made one huge mistake, leaving his kingdom whilst the rebels were still organizing themselves. And so, he came up with a plan to make the excuse of his arrival more… logical. 

Of course it would do well to strengthen the alliance with Akielos in this moment, it made sense, didn’t it? More sense than simply appearing out of thin air right before the wedding. The visit had been a product of his stupid, relentless, emotional nature that Damen seemed to be perfect to spur into life, but the decision to rely on Akielos to fight the rebels, well, that was the logical side of his brain being put into action.

He knew that getting Damen back was almost an impossibility, he knew that that. But he had to give it at least one last try before letting go, otherwise he would not get his closure. 

He didn’t deserve to get Damen back. Damen had chosen to live the rest of his life with someone else and he would have to respect that. But a stupid, endless string of what ifs kept hammering his brain, torturing him. And he knew he would not get rid of them until he found his answer, whatever it was.

Laurent knew that he would end up being hurt, and he deserved it. He had caused Damen far too much pain, he supposed. 

The last time he had seen Damen had been three years ago, at a brief encounter in Delpha. His own council had asked him if he wanted to have a private meeting with the King. Laurent refused. 

He had maintained a strict policy of no contact at all with Damianos. 

And if he had to give a reason why, he would have to admit that it was because of complete and utter fear.

Fear at the fact that Damen could still render him powerless, defenseless, there was no way in which he could protect himself from the avalanche of feelings he instigated on him. Fear at how easily he could just throw anything at the expectation of actually getting a chance with him. Terror about what that could mean for their kingdoms. 

As he descended from his horse and saw Damen for the very first time in three years, he forced his mind to focus.

He looks more mature.

He looks nervous, he was always so transparent. 

He has changed. We both have.

Oh. There she is. 

She-

Focus.

“My brother of Akielos”, he said with a side of his brain, whilst the other side was scrambling desperately to avoid the physical reactions having Damen in front of him caused. 

Elevated heartbeat.

Heat. So much heat.

He might even be sweating.

His hands might be shaking.

And well, the blush in his cheeks, he could blame it on the high temperatures of Ios. 

Damen was quiet for a moment, clearly studying him as well. It was always like this between them: a game, a gamble, a challenge of wits, a competition of who might hold their shit together more easily.

Laurent always won. 

Because everything he didn’t show, he felt it on the inside with a burning, terrible intensity. 

She was very beautiful and yet not at all what Damen liked. 

She was brunette. Her eyes were olive. She seemed kind and polite if her smile that did not seem fake was anything to go by. 

She could not resemble nor Jokaste nor him. At all. 

She was the exact opposite of him.

And yet she looked like a perfect fit for him. 

She saluted him. 

She knew the protocol. 

She had made an effort to be proper. 

She had clearly been part of the royalty at Patras. Laurent had seen her before, he remembered, many years ago. 

They looked good together.

They looked at ease.

They looked like they belonged in a Palace.

The physical and mental reactions within Laurent shifted, without reason, without logic.

Suddenly, the anxiety and the nervousness was replaced by something much more invading. 

Anger. 

At what? At the circumstances. At the universe. At himself.

At the fact Damen has moved on whilst I’m still stuck in that one night seven years ago.

Yeah, that, too.

At her and her wits.

At the Palace.

At Nikandros.

At himself.

At himself. 

At himself.

It should have been us. 

It should have always been us.

From then on, his replies could cut ice.

Damen noticed, he always did.

Their exchanges were brief and straight to the point, except for a couple of exceptions in which Damen seemed to forget they were facing each other as kings. Not as friends. Not as former lovers.

That was what it was like between them, how it must be.

He closed himself in his chambers. Looked around vaguely, numbly. 

The sharp pain against the regret. The regret against the anger. The anger against the aching. 

It was all there, with a deep intensity. 

He looked around at the otherwise empty space and felt the invisible yet all encompassing weight of loneliness.

He had gotten used to it, after all these years. But in another kingdom, and knowing that the person he had fallen for was a short distance away with his future wife, well, it made the feeling unbearable.

A black hole he could not escape from, no matter how hard he tried. 

A hole.

He had lost everything.

And he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. 

How difficult, to live without hope.

 

One day before

He should not have drunk that stupid drink made out of yeast. He truly should not have, or at least, not as much as he had.

Because he was losing his common sense. Very rapidly.

Because under that awful lightning, he couldn’t feel anything other than the presence of Damen right by his side. Warm, rigid, strong. 

He wished he could hold onto that feeling for the rest of his life. But he knew their seconds, minutes and hours were counted, and with each passing day the sense of loss became more present, whilst the hunger became bigger.

Hunger for more. 

Then they had to fit themselves beneath that ridiculously small table and Damen’s limbs were everywhere, clouding every single thought Laurent might have.

The last weeks had been unusual. In many ways. 

Laurent seemed like he couldn’t run away.

Damen seemed like he couldn’t run away.

And the worst part: it seemed like neither of them actually wanted to.

Because when they were together, everything seemed to work out, as if no time had passed at all, as if they were still young and living with the expectation to make it through to claim their rightful place at the throne. 

And yet, whenever they talked, they were much more mature versions of themselves, growing and learning from their circumstances.

It was so easy to fall back into their dynamic, so easy that Laurent sometimes forgot that this was simply their long goodbye.

And whenever he forgot about it, the world made sense again.

When he remembered, the black hole.

He softly touched Damen’s hand and drunkenly told himself it was just a part of their long goodbye. He felt Damen’s intake of breath and wondered if he, too, felt like every single cell in his body was coming alive and brimming with a single touch. He wondered how it was possible that seven years later it could still feel like this. 

He played with Damen’s hands and tried to commit them to memory, as best as he could. Just so he could have another memory to dream about.

It should have been them. In another world, it was them.

Later, as they made their way out of the tavern, all Laurent could think about was that he would miss this the most. The fact that when they were together, everything was a possibility, it was all part of the game. Regardless of how stupid, incredible, or unattainable something might seem, they would make it work. 

When they sat by the trees and cracked in laughter, something within Laurent unfroze, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He felt happy. For a small, fleeting, incredibly short moment.

You have to say it. Say it to him. A voice inside him said.

Tomorrow. He told himself.

And whilst he stared deep into Damen’s eyes, feeling a desperate need to kiss him and knowing it was not a possibility, his mind brought him back to the shared tents, to the nights in which he attended him, to the touch that felt like they might burst into flames that day when they had their first kiss. 

What a painful, terrible joy, to have loved someone so deeply.

Notes:

I promise you this little one will have a happy ending and hopefully in the near future we'll get some fluff, I'm TRYING I promise but it would be pretty unrealistic to have some fluff at any point of the story we've told so far, don't you think?

Also, just want to point out that, as impossible as it may seem, Laurent is, in fact, human, and exploring this human side of him that sometimes is very overlooked because he's brilliant is a MAJOR factor in this fic. They are just two humans making a lot of mistakes and trying to find their way through. They will, promise :)

I hope you enjoyed and thank you so much for reading!! <3

Chapter 20

There’s this thing about the Akielon air that during the summers it gets heavy. Very heavy. It gets too warm, and it feels like it hurts to breathe, or like the air is not truly reaching your lungs, not really, or like there is not enough air. During one summer it was specially intense, so much that Damen, who was quite used to it, had grown desperate and asked for a special garden to be built at the entrance of the palace. Eg seemed quite fond of it at the very beginning. It was also the same garden where sometimes Eg and Laurent used to wander through searching for flowers, but Damen wasn’t supposed to know that. 

That night, as he stood in front of Laurent, breathing hard, waiting achingly, desperately rummaging for answers, the air was heavy. Which was odd, considering it was not summer. It was not during the day. They were surrounded by ruins.

Heavy nonetheless. And perhaps this time he could not blame it on the summer. 

Laurent stared back at him, quietly, as if he was reading him to find the right words to say. Always reading him. Damen hated it. Damen loved it. Damen wished for once Laurent could simply be, instead of turning into this calculative, analytical person. Damen wouldn’t have it other way. 

Damen couldn’t understand how his brain could be divided into two sides so clearly.

The side unable to forgive. The side aching for Ravenel.

Seven years ago, he had known very well which side would win. Never even tried to stop it. It was impossible, his impulses overcame his logic, that all-embracing feeling that seemed to invade him head to toe, that hypnotic, intoxicating feeling, well, it was impossible not to succumb to it. It was impossible not to succumb to Laurent.

Seven years later, he was trying his utmost not to succumb. He really was.

Things were so different, life was so different, it wasn’t as simple as choosing one side or the other. Whatever he chose, it would have consequences. And he couldn’t be as reckless, as stupid, as immature as seven years ago. Not with the person who had shattered his heart in a million pieces.

He needed answers so he could have a reason to shut the incessant beating of his heart up. To stop with it. Once and for all. 

To walk down the aisle with Irina, holding her hand, kissing her back, and not wondering if he had made a fatal mistake.

To finally get over Laurent. To not allow their memories to consume his brain, his skin, his heart. 

To say goodbye. 

When Laurent didn’t reply, Damen snapped. “STOP DOING THAT!”, he yelled. 

“Doing what?”

“Analyzing me, analyzing the situation, as if everything was a puzzle for you to solve as if I was nothing but one more of your problems, as if-”

He sighed in defeat and then murmured. “-As if my feelings didn’t matter”.

Laurent’s voice was calm when he said: “What makes you think your feelings don’t matter to me?”

Damen’s voice kept low, very, very low. He was raw, open and honest when he replied: “I don’t think they ever have”.

When he looked up, Laurent had taken a step back, as if he hadn’t expected that reply, but also as if he was, somehow, hurt by the assumption. Damen continued. “…Otherwise we wouldn’t be here”.

“They matter”, Laurent replied, “to me”.

A beat of silence.

“You matter to me”, was all he said.

“Seven years”, Damen replied. Then he shook his head. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe a word of what you just said”. His voice was awfully hurt, and he wished he could do something about it, but there was nothing he could do. 

“Seven years”, Laurent agreed.

“Why?”, Damen asked, and he could feel his heart rushing fast. “After everything, after- after-”

“After Ravenel?”

It hurt. A pierce, sharp pain through his heart. Laurent saying it. Admitting it. He hadn’t forgotten, he hadn’t.

Damen closed his eyes, his hands into fists as if they were holding between them years and years of pain and wondering. He nodded.

And when he opened his eyes again, Laurent was looking at him, and he had taken a step forward, and his gaze was intent, fixed, determined, as if he had come to a resolution and Damen wanted to kiss him and Damen wanted to kill him and Damen wanted to stop feeling pain.

And then they heard them, somewhere. The hooves.

Huh.

That was unusual in here. This was an isolated territory. Part of the reason why Damen liked to come to this place, because it was so quiet he could almost feel, almost taste his thoughts.

Laurent also frowned as he looked around, confused, expectant. The sound intensified, and multiplied, telling them it was not just one, they were at least five horses. They looked at one another, they were coming closer and closer and closer. Damen made a quick choice and took Laurent’s hand, pulling him as he ran to hide behind one of the walls of the ruins, Laurent next to him, pushed against the wall, their shoulders brushing. The sound intensified until Damen could tell whoever they were, they were almost there.

Their horses were still parked a couple of steps away. Undoubtedly, whoever they were, they would see them.

Then, when the noise was at it highest, it stopped. He could hear someone shouting something Damen couldn’t quite catch and then they descended their horses. 

“Grave robbers”, Laurent whispered next to him.

Damen nodded. It made sense. He looked out and managed to catch their silhouette. “Five of them”, he said. 

“They clearly saw our horses”, Laurent replied.

“Yes”. And clearly, that meant that they had to come up with a plan to not be found or to stop them somehow in the process. 

They heard the man still outside, still giving orders, but not as loudly as before and they heard the group scattering. In a couple of seconds, they would be found.

“Do you have your knife?”, he asked Laurent.

“What makes you think that?”, he said raising his eyebrow jokingly. He was enjoying this, Damen could tell. “Of course I do”.

“I don’t”.

“Of course you don’t. If I would be as trusting as you, I would have died years ago”.

“You did- almost die”.

“Shut up”, Laurent replied as he pulled out his knife.

Damen was still trying to get a peek out and he turned back to say. “What’s the plan?”

“No plan at all. You punch them. I stab them”.

“I don’t want to kill them”.

“They’re robbers”.

“So?”

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Fine. I will seriously injure them. Then they’ll say they have met the King of Akielos and the King of Vere and they were hiding on a wall, probably fucking. Wonderful news for your kingdom and for mine”.

“Fair point. Do you have the wigs?”.

Laurent cracked in laughter as he stared at Damen, who tried to shush him, to no avail. “Do you truly want me to throw that hideous thing on my hair again?”

Damen reached out to him and softly touched a strand of his hair. “No, I don’t”.

Laurent swallowed. “Of course I don’t have them with me”.

“Shame”, letting go off the strand.

A voice, louder, “clear”, it said.

Damen and Laurent looked at one another and nodded in acquiescence. A moment later, and with his utmost regality, he stepped out of the wall, ascended a couple of stairs, and said: “are you looking for something?”

Damen stood still, nervous. Laurent was strong and sharp enough to end them all. And he was clearly enjoying it, but if he put his life in peril in any way, he would kill them, snap their necks, make them suffer a long and painful death.

And then he heard the shuffling of his feet as he started running. 

Damen stepped out of the wall to see where the hell he was. He saw the thugs starting to run towards Laurent, chasing him. Laurent crossed over the roofs of the old ruins and Damen simply stared at him in awe, transfixed. The golden of his attire gleamed under the moonlight, clearly they could tell he was very privileged and Damen could almost feel their mouths watering to get a piece of him. His silhouette looked as regal as ever, and his limp was nearly gone now, clearly Laurent paying it no mind as he ran, clearly enjoying it profoundly. Damen bit his lip and stared fixedly, excitedly, helplessly.

Helplessly in love with this fucking idiot. 

He was so freaking brilliant he had given him an advantage as he had ran in circles: not only was he tiring them, they were giving his back to Damen, so he could easily knock them over.

So he got out and tried to be as quiet as possible -not that he was very good at that for he was very heavy-, but they were too distracted to notice. Laurent did, and turned to him slightly, giving him a wink.

A minute later, he slipped and fell. 

Damen frowned, worried. Clearly the robbers could now catch up to him easily and Damen was at a long distance, so he started running as fast as he could, as they approached Laurent, who tried to stand up but slipped again. 

“Well, hello”, the leader said to Laurent. “What does a Veretian bitch so nearby the capital?”

Laurent didn’t reply. He simply looked at them as they cornered him. He stepped back and hit a wall. 

“We saw two horses. Who did you bring with you?”, he looked him up and down, “clearly someone very wealthy”, he said, lasciviously, hungrily. “A beauty like you would not settle for anything less, would you?”, the disgusting man said, his voice hoarse, awful.

They had no idea who Laurent was.

The man came closer and closer to Laurent, his big hand touching his face, a stark contrast. 

And Damen wanted to kill him.

Damen kept his eyes fixed on him, waiting for a sign, for anything. Laurent pretended to be deterred by them, there were five of them, after all. 

He got out of the stone they were hiding behind, as quietly as possible and started approaching. Laurent, who was the only one looking towards him, relaxed and opened his mouth. 

“I was about to open for him and you clearly ruined it. But yet, I can clearly tell by looking at your faces that you are a bunch of morons. Want to know why? I will gladly tell you: there is nothing of value in these things. There hasn’t been for centuries, do you think you are the only rats who would have thought about it? Even I know that and I am fucking Veretian. But that goes to show just how clearly idiotic Akielons are”, he said and his eyes skidded for a second towards Damen, who was approaching them.

The men cornered him even more and the leader caught him by his shirt, pulling him up. “You dare to insult us? A Veretian whore?”

“The best Veretian whore, to clarify”.

The man spat directly on his face and Damen could clearly see the moment he reached a decision. “There is another aspect, want to know?”

“What?”

He looked at Damen and nodded before saying: “If you had two fingers of forehead you could tell I am so much more than a Veretian whore”, a second later, he pressed his blade against the man’s stomach who immediately unclenched his fists and let him go. He used the advantage to turn and join Damen. The men turned looking for Laurent and met this gigantic wall that was way too high and heavy even for their Akielon standards. But they didn’t quell: they took out their swords and started fighting them. For Laurent, it was quite simple, he started responding to their attacks with just his blade, which required a lot of swordsmanship and strength, whilst Damen punched them to avoid them from attacking Laurent. 

In the midst of it all, Laurent took a misstep and almost fell, but he didn’t lose his confidence. Damen could tell he enjoyed it. 

Behind him, one of the man whispered to the other, in Akielon. “Isn’t that the King?”

The man’s eyes widened and before he could respond, Damen punched him directly on the face. But the other man had clearly already recognized him. 

And that was a problem. 

 Meanwhile, Laurent was still fighting the man with the sword. Damen grabbed the man who had recognized him and punched him, his fist colliding with the bone. The man looked at him and smiled mischievously, spitting blood. “It is you, isn’t it?”, he cracked in a hideous fit of laughter. “Aren’t you about to get married, Your Highness? What are you doing hiding with a Veretian whore?”

He punched him again, one or two more fists to his face until he was still bleeding. He wasn’t going to kill him, for certain, but he wanted to scare him enough to get the fuck out of there and shut his mouth because how dare he how dare he recognize him and how dare him to call him out like that and how dare him to call Laurent a Veretian whore?

The man was hurt by the time Damen let go, but nothing too serious. However, it had the desired effect: the two remaining men looked terrified to their very core, so much so that the man who was trying to stab Laurent with his sword took two steps away. 

Laurent stood next to Damen and stared at them, not looking exhausted nor anxious, just his usual self, and Damen didn’t understand how that was possible. 

Damen straightened his back, made himself look absorbing, gigantic, imposing, like he knew well how to. His voice was deep when he said: “The crime you were looking forward to commit gives you at least twenty years of imprisonment. And I should take you as prisoners. However, I am feeling benevolent today. Thus, I will give you an option: you will have five seconds to get out of my face, or I will make certain you won’t be able to walk towards the palace to get your much-deserved penalty. There is no option b”.

“One…”, he started.

Five seconds later, the men had picked up their injured and attempted to leave running cowardly towards their horses. Neither of the thieves was in mortal danger, but they certainly left a trail of blood leading to their own horses. 

Laurent waved them goodbye as he stared at them with a stupidly foolish look on his face. 

Then he turned to Damen, his head shaking, his cheeks blushed. The thrill of the game, always the thrill of the game. 

Damen shook his head. “You’re covered in blood”.

Laurent looked up to the sky and smiled, “oh, I missed this”, he said, excitedly.

Damen frowned. “What? Stabbing people?”

Laurent cracked in laughter… “no, although that does have its appeal, especially when they’re annoying me. But I missed the adventure, the adrenaline…it’s…been a while”.

He then looked down and sighed. “Being a king takes a lot of things from you”.

Damen couldn’t agree more. The fact he was almost a week away from getting married in a decision that hadn’t been entirely his to begin with was the biggest proof of that. So, he silently said, “it gets lonely… at the top”.

Laurent looked with a weird expression on his face and then he simply whispered a soft “…yes”.

Damen remembered that mere minutes ago Laurent had been pushed against a rock and cradled by this fucking man, the rage came back to him in a fit, and so he took a step closer and examined him: “are you okay?”, he asked. 

Laurent smiled at him. “Wonderful. Just a small bruise in my wrist from where the brute held me. He should know better than to mess with a Veretian whore. Your fist is bleeding”, he said as he looked down at Damen’s hand.

Damen examined his knuckles. “Not my blood”, he whispered.

“You shouldn’t have beaten him”, Laurent observed. 

“You shouldn’t have stabbed him”.

“But it would have been so boring to leave them unscathed”, Laurent bit back. 

Damen smiled and shook his head. He then added: “We should leave”.

Laurent nodded but stood there, contemplating, without moving. Damen turned to look at him. “What?”

“I’m covered in blood. People at the Palace will ask questions. Word will spread”.

He was covered in blood. His hands were filled with blood. His attire was filled with blood, and he was inevitably right. People would ask questions and there were no answers they could possibly give without inciting a grand response. Damen hated the theatricality of it all. If the Palace found out they had been ambushed or attacked, a search would be thrown all around the kingdom, and then the men would be found, and they would talk, and in reality, to say that the two kings of former enemy kingdoms were in a secluded, dark space, alone, well… it could put his marriage in danger. 

He considered for a moment. “There’s a creek nearby. You’ll wash your hands and your attire there. We will go back to the palace as quietly as possible and we’ll avoid eye contact with everybody. It’s the only solution I can think of”.

Laurent laughed quietly. He was in a good mood, Damen could tell. And it terrified him and amazed him at the same time. “It’s stupid how much we have to cover the fact we are simply planning an event”.

“Well… people talk and it is not like we have not a previous… history that links us together”.

“You are about to get married”.

“That’s precisely the problem”.

“Yes”, Laurent agreed immediately. His tone changing. His eyes not leaving Damen’s. His face serious. “Yes it is”.

They rode their horses to the creek. In the middle of the night, it was a beautiful view: quiet, reflecting the moonlight, only the sound of the water stream surrounding them. As Laurent climbed down the horse, he stood still and simply stared at the view quietly. Damen stood next to him and stared at the view, but quite soon his attention was diverted. The reflection of the water, and the light from the moon, created a beautiful mixture of lights, shadows and movements, all playing in Laurent’s face, drawn to it like a canvas. His blue eyes unblinking, vibrant, the only source of color around them. It was hypnotic. His beauty was hypnotizing. It always had been, but somehow, with years it had only grown along with him. He looked older, wiser, more mature, but his beauty was also a reflection of the passing of years.

Damen clenched his fist. 

Laurent broke the spell after a couple of minutes. Without saying anything, he sat on the grass, without caring about if he would ruin his trousers, and started taking off his boots. Damen stared at him in wonder, as Laurent quickly untied the laces, took off his boots, and took off running, with all of his clothes still on him, throwing himself into the creek. 

He was fascinating. He was still such a complex person, a puzzle, one that Damen ached to explore, to uncover, to piece together. 

He got his face out of the water, his hair pushed back by the water, a big smile on his face, as he said: “ a faster solution, is it not?”

Damen laughed as he shook his head. 

Laurent started swimming around and Damen couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to swim so gracefully with all those ties and with his tight trousers. As he floated, he closed his eyes and looked so peaceful and calm, it was unusual to see Laurent like that. He had not seen him like that even once since he arrived to the palace. He looked exhausted, drained… Damen couldn’t place it but definitely it was as if some life had been taken from him, like he was purposeless, like he was a shadow of the Laurent he had fallen for, but still the Laurent he had fallen for. 

He swam to the edge of the creek and looked up at Damen, raising an eyebrow. 

“What”, Damen said.

“There is blood in your chiton”.

“There is?”, he asked, looking down. 

There was. And there was blood on his fists and on his legs, which was dramatic, because he had not struck the thief that hard. No. Definitely not. Especially not when he had struck a nerve by mentioning Irina to him and made him feel guilty for the fact he was actually enjoying his time with Laurent but it was not like that. Definitely not. It was a perfectly balanced response.

Laurent was still staring at him, fixedly. 

Damen made his mind up and took his sandals off, and threw himself on the water.

As he came out, his curls sticking to the front of his face and losing their shape, the first thing he saw was Laurent, who was looking at him with a big smile on his face before throwing a big splash of water directly to Damen’s face, who responded with another big splash at Laurent. Their water battle reminded him of what he used to do with Nik when they were just entering their teenage years and there was still not that much pressure to be a king, when he believed that Kastor was the best brother he could possibly have, whilst he started fancying Jokaste. It felt like a different life, in a different time. And yet, as he threw water directly onto Laurent’s eyes, he realized that the feeling was pretty much the same. If only. 

If only he could leave the pressure, the demands, the expectations behind.

Well, he couldn’t.

He would get married in a week. He would host a summit for kings that was set to start the following day. He had the expectations of everybody at his kingdom placed upon him.

He couldn’t run away.

But he could, just for these precious minutes, allow himself to be himself.

Just Damen. 

And he knew that the only person in the world, the one individual who could understand him, who would know and recognize this feeling perfectly, was right in front of him. And he was the most precious man he had met in his life.

After, they swam for a little while. Then they turned on their backs and started floating. And meanwhile, Damen felt like a pressure had been taken off his shoulders, just for that night at least. 

They were both silent, simply staring at the stars. 

Damen didn’t want to say a single word. Didn’t want to break the spell. It was as if, by entering that creek, they had entered into an alternate universe, another lifetime. A lifetime where life could be this simple. Where their relationship could be this simple. A lifetime where the stars had aligned, and they were together. And they were happy. 

And they were, simply, them.

In another lifetime. 

He was the first one to swim out of the creek and Laurent quickly followed. In that minute, he realized this had been just another stupid decision on his behalf: they simply couldn’t arrive back to the palace soaking wet, it would be just as suspicious. 

And he made peace with it. Why would he bother to go back to the palace anytime soon, anyway? When right at that moment his freedom was so valuable? He leaned on the grass and stared at the sky. Laurent seemed to come to the same conclusion and leaned right next to him. 

It was a starry night.

In another lifetime.

Damen turned his whole body so he could face Laurent. It was a pleasant, warm night and it felt nice, to feel the water melting onto his skin, slowly, calmly evaporating. Laurent turned to face him too. And the moonlight cast the lights and the shadows and they were merely inches apart. 

In another lifetime. 

They stared at one another with a smile on each other’s faces. They both knew what that moment had meant. They didn’t have to speak it aloud, but they had needed this moment to be silly and goofy and not actually care about it. It was a side of Laurent that Damen was certain he would never allow anyone else to see, and that was precious to him as well. 

After a while, Laurent broke the spell. 

“What have the last seven years been like, for you?”, he whispered.

Such a loaded question. So many smaller questions hidden between those ten words. So many complex answers. 

Agonizing. 

I missed you.

I moved forward.

I never did.

“Intense”, was Damen’s reply. “In between becoming a king and actually starting to act like one, life just melted in front of my eyes. I lost track of time, but I saw the trace of time on Eg. But they went by so fast, and yet so incredibly slow”.

Then he went on to speak about how the first year he focused on the Peace Agreement and on finishing the document that he and Laurent would finally sign three years later, the last time they had seen one another before now. He spoke about the draught during the second year that affected the crops, and how he didn’t sleep at all for about a month trying to come up with solutions. He spoke about how during the third year, Eg started learning the alphabet. About the first song he learnt. About how Damen sat next to him one day and told him a short story about his father. He spoke about how during the fourth year they opened new trade routes with Vask, about how the negotiations involved Nikandros inbreeding quite a number of women from the tribe, about how he started coming up with the idea to end slavery and had exploratory meetings with his council. About how in the fifth year Eg learnt how to read. And how to swim. And how to build a sand castle. About how he drafted a first document about the end of slavery, how the council wanted to tear him apart. About how in the sixth year he finally managed to make it a policy and everyone had a hard time coming to terms with it but he didn’t care, about the protests in front of the palace, about his holidays in the summer palace, about how he ran into Charls once and he asked him about Laurent, about how in the seventh year he went picking flowers with Eg. And about how now he was in front of another deranged king plotting an ambitious plan to become stronger as kingdoms. 

Laurent fixed his attention on him. It was a nice conversation to have, it reminded Damen that he could, and he had lived his life without Laurent on it. And despite the fact he had spent a large amount of time wondering and missing and trying to understand, he had also spent time laughing and swimming and staring at the sun and living. 

When he finished, he asked. “And you?”

And him.

And it was like gates were opened. Laurent spoke about arranging the council during the first year, how he had to deal with the people who were still siding with the regent, how his first order as a King was to create a fund for the education of children under Auguste’s name. About how during the second year Vere increased its production of food and how opening the routes between kingdoms led to the welfare of its kingdom. About how during the third year he had trouble sleeping the days before they were to reunite to sign the Agreement. About how he returned to Vere to a multitude of people cheering on that historic step. About how the next morning he woke up to a protest led by people who opposed to it. About the tenth anniversary of Auguste’s death and the many commemorations in his honor. About how in the fourth year the ones that were still on his uncle’s side tried and failed to orchestrate a coup against him. About how he executed them for treason. About how during the fifth year he learnt about Akielos’ plans to end slavery. And how a niece of a foreign kingdom had become besotted by him which perplexed him because, well, it was obvious she was not his type, and he had almost created a diplomatic conflict with that kingdom for that. About how during the sixth year Akielos announced the end of slavery and in Vere the whispers started about a possible ending to the system of ownership of pets, about how Laurent had thought about it for years and brought it up to the council, about how word got out and those who supported the regent started becoming more vocal, about how the mood shifted.

About how mere months ago he had almost lost his life.

About how much he didn’t care to be threatened if it meant he could end the pet system.

About how tired he was of thinking about it.

Not a single word about his personal life. It was as if he had not had any at all. 

Has anyone else loved you. Damen was desperate to ask, but didn’t. 

Then they shared gossip about their soldiers. Laurent told Damen Jord had been so heartbroken he had not taken another lover since Aimeric, and told him they had become better friends since. Damen said Nik was ready to settle but had not met any man or woman suitable to settle with. Lazar and Pallas relationship was certainly complicated, neither Laurent nor Damen truly knew where they were standing. They laughed as they remembered how they had seen all of these unravel in front of their eyes as they prepared themselves for the biggest battle of their lives.

Laurent talked to Damen about his next plans for Vere, about how he was considering moving the capital somewhere that was not Arles, about the awful winter they had had the year before and about how worrisome it had been to guarantee proper food and heating for everybody, but they had managed to. 

Damen was midway through an anecdote as he looked up to the sky and when he turned around to look at Laurent, he realized he had fallen asleep, deeply asleep. He smiled softly, scooped just a little bit closer and brushed his hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear, and leaving his hand there, just for a small moment, just to feel his still wet yet incredibly soft hair dancing between his fingers. 

He closed his eyes too and sleep covered him almost immediately. A peaceful, dreamless, warm sleep.

At some point, during the night, their bodies found each other. Perhaps seeking warmth, perhaps seeking that connection they had once lost, perhaps simply out of memory. Laurent put his head on top of Damen’s shoulders and Damen sleepily held him against him, pulling him closer, inevitably closer, as they remained deep asleep. 

Damen didn’t dream of Ravenel that night. 

Chapter 21

Notes:

I'm back! with a quick-ish update! I just couldn't wait to write this chapter and oh boy, you're in for a treat.

Just wanted to take a moment to thank you all for all your wonderful comments and all your love towards this little one. I haven't gotten to reply to recent comments but I want you to know I have read them all and they are all HUGELY appreciated and I will reply to them! We're well over 10K views and ummm what the hell? Thank you SO much for reading! I can't believe it! <3

And please, PLEASE, if this chapter made you feel anything at all, leave me a comment, I can't wait to read it! ;)

Seee you laterrr!

There was hair in his mouth.

That was the first thing he felt when he regained consciousness from a deep, peaceful sleep, way too peaceful to be laying on the grass.

The next thing he noticed was the weight on his chest, his abdomen, the warmth, the arm that was holding onto him firmly and the loud breathing that he could still feel through his chiton.

Then he felt the chills all over his body.

Because even though he hadn’t even fully woken up yet, he knew exactly who that weight, that warmth, that arm belonged to. 

He had dreamt ceaselessly, endlessly, about the moment when he would feel it again.

He had imagined it, whilst awake, a million times. 

He had ached for it.

He opened his eyes.

But not like this.

The first thing he saw, through the smallest hints of light that symbolized that the dawn was about to arrive, was the speck of gold against him. He blew the strands of hair that were attached to his lips, and marveled at the reflection of the moonlight on that blond, beautiful hair. 

The movement of the water on the creek was also reflecting on his hair. Damen wanted to melt into it. 

Laurent’s breaths were deep, and his face, from Damen’s point of view, was completely at peace. 

Just a little longer, he thought, not for the first time in his life as Laurent laid right with him. 

“I can’t, I can’t have this for just one night”, he had said as he woke up the next morning in Ravenel, when the first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was Laurent’s quiet breathing, his calm expression, his hair all over his face. His warmth, his brain taking him back to the touches they had shared the night before, the kisses, the deep, soft kisses, the need to be closer and closer and closer until they were one, until he was inside him, until he had given him permission to be inside him, a sign of vulnerability, of trust, of intimacy.

I think I love you, was Damen’s thought as he felt himself flush against Laurent’s body. I think I will love you for the rest of my life.

“One night and one morning”, Laurent had said as he smiled back at him. 

I think I will love you for the rest of my life.

That will not do. 

He couldn’t think about it at the moment, he couldn’t allow his mind to take him there. Not to Ravenel. Not when he was feeling so vulnerable, so emotional, like he was seconds away from imploding because his heart and his chest were not enough to contain the feelings that were bubbling up inside of him, threatening to spill everywhere, seven years of feelings, seven years of regrets, of memories, of what ifs.

Seven years.

He felt Laurent moving against him, just a little bit.

Just a little longer, he thought again.

Back at Ravenel, there had been this one second when he had wished with all his might that he could freeze time. And if he could have chosen a moment, it would have been that of their first kiss at that morning after. That first kiss when they had not been able to hold back, when they couldn’t wait another minute, when they had nothing but quiet whispers and peaceful smiles between them.

Just a little longer. 

Laurent frowned and held himself even tighter against Damen, who couldn’t help but hold a smile. He looked younger, so much more at peace than he had looked in the last couple of days. Damen asked himself what he had truly gone through during those seven years? Was he haunted by the same ghosts? Was he so lonely? Was he so hopeless? Did he feel like…

Did he feel like there was not much more to fight for? Just like Damen did sometimes?

Did he ever wonder if he had made one fatal mistake by walking away?

Did his mind take him back to Ravenel every once in a while?

Did he remember that first kiss at that morning after?

Did he miss Damen just as ardently, as intensely, as painfully as Damen missed him?

Just a little longer.

A sigh against his chest and he could feel Laurent was finally waking up, his chest flush against Damen’s. 

He saw him opening his eyes and felt the way he immediately went rigid. Like he had before.

Don’t go.

He didn’t.

A couple of seconds went by and Damen could tell Laurent was forcing himself to relax. And thus, he moved his forehead against Damen’s chest slowly as he said against his chiton: “You are so gigantic, you make for a very comfortable pillow”, without moving an inch.

Damen laughed and felt the rumble of his belly, hitting against Laurent’s body, who smiled back, his eyes closed against Damen’s chest. 

Not moving. 

“Apparently all this flesh and muscle is not enough to make the fact I slept on the grass all night more comfortable with my back, and I am feeling the strain of it”, Damen replied, a smile on his face.

Not moving. 

“-Even worse with all your added weight on top of me”, Damen added.

Laurent didn’t move. If anything, he only inched closer, his eyes still closed. “Mm. Too bad”, he replied. 

And instead of moving, Laurent grabbed a handful of Damen’s chiton, as if holding onto it for dear life. 

Just a little longer.

It was quiet, so quiet that Damen could feel his breathing, growing louder and louder against his will as he grew more and more desperate for more. He felt Laurent’s in tandem. He felt but also heard Laurent’s breathing, just as intense, as loud as his own.

He closed his eyes as hard as he could, feeling his insides almost coming out of him, seven years of emotions threatening to burst themselves open.

Laurent seemed to feel Damen’s internal struggle, because suddenly, out of nowhere, he started speaking, his voice low, intimate, when he said: “There was this stream right outside of the Palace at Arles. I think we passed by it on our way to the Palace. Anyway-”, he cleared his throat. “During the summer, when I was seven years old, Auguste took me there and spent hours upon hours teaching me how to swim”.

His hands didn’t leave Damen’s chiton.

“…Needless to say, I did not enjoy swimming. But I took it as a sort of personal challenge to learn, so I spent days and days forcing myself to learn it and to be fast. I spent most of the summer there, and Auguste would sit there and give me advice: “move your arms like this”, “put your legs straight”, “propel yourself with your legs”. I hated it whenever he gave me advice so I used to ignore him, because I believed mine was the right way to do it. The next summer I joined a swimming competition for infants and I won. I was so happy. That until one of the kids I was competing against told me Auguste had threatened them to let me win. I was furious, so I went to him and asked him to repeat the competition without threats, and I came in last, stop laughing!”.

Damen was trying to hold back his laughter but it was nearly impossible. He bit his lip to avoid making any noise but the movements the muscles in his abdomen made gave him away. “I’m sorry, I just, I really can imagine you being a stubborn little brat believing he is above and beyond everyone else. You have not changed one bit, have you?”

Laurent shrugged against his chest. “I can swim faster now”.

Damen laughed again. 

A minute later, Damen went on with an anecdote about how he was a slow reader, and how his personal professor once ordered him to read an epic poem because he had an exam the next day, so he went to bed to read the book and he fell asleep and the book fell on his face, and since it was such a heavy book it made his nose bleed and it hurt like hell, which turned out to be a good thing for Damen who did not have to do the exam. 

They stayed like that, sharing a couple of anecdotes from their youth for a while and laughing at their own naivety, their own stupidity or both… without moving. By the end of a particular anecdote, Laurent finally turned to look at him, a wide smile written on his face and…oh.

Damen was certainly not ready for that vision. Laurent, his hand on his chest, his chin on his hand, a wide smile on his face, his piercing, deep, clear blue eyes, and the strands of hair falling from his face. This while his face was mere inches away from Damen, so much so that he could feel the air he was exhaling right onto his face.

He stopped breathing by the sudden shock. By the sudden shock of desire that invaded him completely, that threatened to render him powerless, useless for Laurent to do with him at his will. It was like a fog had taken over his thoughts, until only one was ever present, all encompassing: 

Kiss me.

The smile in Damen’s face had vanished. And it took a couple of seconds for Damen’s brain to realize that Laurent’s had, as well. Which meant that he was staring at Laurent’s mouth. 

Directly onto Laurent’s mouth. 

Laurent’s gaze also roamed Damen’s entire face until it stopped right at the lips.

Once again, only the sound of the silence. The deafening silence. And their breaths coming in tandem, and the creek. 

Kiss me.

Laurent’s fist was still holding onto the chiton, and Damen felt how he clenched harder and harder, as if he was fighting against his better instincts. 

Friends? Is that what we are?

Laurent, I am your slave.

Deep, fast breaths, as if they were trying their utmost to hold back. The fist against his chiton, Damen feeling Laurent’s weight against him, their entire bodies pressed against one another, in a way they had not been since that one night and one morning in Ravenel.

He felt Laurent moving just a little bit, a little bit closer.

And that was when his mind took over where his heart had left off and he stood up in an immediate rush.

You’re getting married in seven days. Was his first thought.

Kiss me. Was his second, more intense, more encompassing thought. 

He felt the frigid cold of not having Laurent against him anymore. He simply stood there, still, staring right ahead, trying to get a hold of his mind whilst it was scattered everywhere. 

Laurent had also stood up quickly and was staring deeply at him, wondering, analyzing. 

Damen closed his eyes and clenched his fists, as he simply said: “it is getting rather late, I think it is time for us to go back to the Palace”. His eyes fixed on Laurent’s. Even minute felt agonizing, eternal. Laurent was simply staring back at him, not saying a word, an emotion Damen could not quite understand nor even attempt to comprehend across his face. 

Finally, a couple of minutes later, Laurent simply nodded, closing his eyes, as if he had come to some sort of realization. Damen felt everything was so unbearably complex, he simply could not sum up the energy to try and understand what he was feeling, as if he could ever.

Damen stared at his chiton, which looked kind of destroyed but definitely less ruined than the night before with the blood smeared over it, patted himself and was about to walk towards their horses, his back against Laurent, when he heard him suddenly exclaiming: “Leaving you was the most difficult choice I have made in my entire life”.

Damen stopped dead in his tracks and stood still, his mind trying to understand what he had just heard. He stood still for a moment and finally turned to him, eyeing him quizzically. “What?”, he asked. 

Laurent was still, rigid, staring at Damen determinedly. “You want to know why I left. I will give you answers”.

Damen clenched his jaw. Don’t don’t don’t don’t.

He didn’t want them, but he had to admit that he needed them. 

But the thing was: whatever the answer might possibly be, this moment, and all the ones that had led to this one, would be gone. 

The charm would be broken, everything would be broken, probably, very possibly, beyond repair.

Damen nodded, as if asking him to continue. 

And so, Laurent did. “I-”, he dragged a deep breath. “I had killed your brother. I had watched you bleeding out. The bells rang, and rang and rang, and I cared about nothing except for the fact you were lying in that cot, unconscious. And the bells rang and it was agony. Agony at the thought of losing you. Agony at the thought of what we both would face anyway. The hours passed and passed and I was becoming restless and desperate. Finally I had the chance to see you, and as I did, I realized I was no longer looking at the captain of my soldiers, I was no longer looking at Damen, I was looking at King Damianos. I was a king, meeting another king.

And that changed everything.

Before that defying moment, we never got the chance to talk, and yet I had the suspicion, from your gaze, your expression, the way you looked at me when you thought no one else was looking, that you still wanted me”.

Damen bit his lip. “I was aching for you, Laurent”.

Laurent flinched at those words. “I saw that”.

“And you pretended you didn’t”.

“I didn’t-”, he sighed, “we didn’t get the chance”.

“We only had months and months of traveling together, next to one another, but according to you, the moment never came”.

“That is not-”

“Tell me the truth, Laurent, please, just-”

“I was still angry at you!”, Laurent exclaimed. “I was trying to come to terms with this wonderful, soft, tactical person in front of me and the monster I had loathed my entire life! And I was scared—”

“Scared of what?”, Damen whispered.

“Of damaging you beyond repair”, Laurent replied.

Damen looked like he had received a blow to his face.

Laurent carried on: “What if I gave you hope, and then realized that I could not, for the life of me, despite everything, forgive you? It would have broken you, Damen. I did not want that for you. I did not want me for you”.

Damen’s voice was soft, contained, as if he was holding back all the anger he was feeling, when he replied, “that was not your choice to make”.

“You would have jumped at the slightest hint of hope. And then I would be responsible for all the hurting I might have caused you. I was certain I was going to die any way, I was certain this was a pointless war, that my uncle would-”

“Then why not make the most of the little time we had left? You knew I craved for it, you knew it”.

“Because-”, he sighed, “Damen, because you were far more dangerous than my uncle, Govart, Kastor or Guion could possibly be. Because you had broken through every single wall and I could not allow myself the weakness of-”

“Of loving me?”

“I knew that if I would have given you my heart, you would have treated it tenderly”.

“I would have died for you, Laurent, and you knew it”.

“That was the problem! You would be reckless and you would not have looked back, and I could not allow myself the privilege of loving you back, Damen. I had a battle to focus on, I had an uncle to defeat, and I had to understand if what I felt about you was stronger than my hatred towards you”.

“It wasn’t, then, that’s what you’re trying to tell me”.

“It was”.

Damen let out a little humorless laugh, a laugh filled with anger and frustration. “I am not following”.

“Before the final battle, before I became a king and you became a king, I thought that my act of love toward you was protecting you from me”.

Damen swallowed. “I did not need to be protected. I needed you. Do you have any idea how heartbroken I was in those months? When I thought I had made it all up in my head? When I used to wonder over and over if what had happened at Ravenel had just been another step in your plan to humiliate me? To render me hopeless? I was certain you hated me, Laurent, but then I saw you and-”, he shook his head, “-and you were not as emotionless as you pretended to be. I saw it in your eyes. And yet, nothing happened. So without saying a word, you told me exactly what your choice had been”.

“-And then you were lying on that bed”, Laurent followed calmly, “and I was a king and you were a king”. 

Damen simply stared at him, hurt and betrayal written all over his face. 

“As I stared at you, I thought about three things: about how we never had the chance to talk, about how now we were kings, and about how now I was carrying your brother’s blood on my hands”.

“He was not my brother”.

“He was the only family you had left, Damen. And I had killed him, and I knew what losing family felt like, and I was terrified you would wake up to look at me with your eyes filled with hatred, I would not have handled that-”.

“That would have never happened”.

“I know that now! But at that moment, the thought of you feeling about me even the slightest bit of what I felt when I found out you had killed Auguste, that you had taken from me the only family I had left… I knew that feeling and I did not want that feeling directed towards me, not coming from you. But that was the last of the reasons why I left. The main reason why I left, was because now we both had a kingdom to rule. And Vere needed me, just as Akielos needed you”.

Damen simply stared at him, silently, blinking, once, twice, three times. Then he clenched his fists. “That is why you left?”

Laurent looked down and nodded. 

“Why don’t you just simply admit, instead of this long, long conversation, that you wanted to leave, then?”

“I did not want to leave!”

“I have been wondering for years and years and years why you fucking walked away, and your reason is because we were both kings? Why does that matter? What does it have to do with-”

Clearly it had been the wrong thing to say, because Laurent looked altered and angry as he replied: “with the fact we were about to rule two kingdoms at war? Two kingdoms that historically hated each other? Follow me for a second, Damen, and imagine what it would have been like: I had the entire Council set against me, hating me for overthrowing my uncle, you had disappeared for months, were presumed dead, then a traitor, then a slave to Vere. What do you think, what do you think that our kingdoms would have said, how everybody would have reacted, if suddenly the kings of enemy nations chose to-”

“I would not have given a fuck about what they thought. I cared about what I felt. About what I wanted. And what I wanted was you”.

“Do you think it would have made the transition easier? You told me so, last night, the transition was difficult for you. So was for me. Do you think, do you really think this would have solved all of our problems? Our kingdoms would have paid the price for our recklessness. We both had a commitment to our kingdoms, to our families, to our legacies. It outgrew us”.

“Nothing outgrew what I felt, Laurent. Nothing”.

Laurent ignored that one last bit as he said. “I tried for months to see a way forward for us. I couldn’t. I really couldn’t”.

“We could have found one, together”.

“How could I possibly know what was what you wanted?”

“You just said it, Laurent! You said that you saw it in my eyes and in my face, you have said a thousand times that I am transparent, that my emotions betray me, it was written all over my face during those months before the final battle: I wanted you ardently, and I was certain you hated me, and I deserved it, so why would I even try to keep pushing when you had made your limits quite clear?”

Laurent replied: “Why would I even try to keep pushing when I had killed the only family you had left? When you and I both had the most enormous challenge of our lives ahead of us? When I had tied you to a post and whipped you until you almost died? Damen, you could hate me for all of those reasons, and I was not certain that one day the blindfold would be taken off your eyes and you would see that and hate me and I would not- could not take it”.

Damen rubbed his face with his hands. He was silent for a moment before he said: “I woke up three days later. As the sedatives wore down I started to feel this immense pain all over my body, everywhere. And yet, as I opened my eyes, I said the only word that came to mind, through the pain, through the dizziness, through my exhaustion: I called your name”.

Laurent took a couple of steps back, once again as if the words had physically hurt him. His face was no longer a facade: it was open, showing the feelings he was feeling. And there was pain written on it. 

“And I looked around and aside from other soldiers lying there, half-dying, there was no one else: Nikandros was acting as a King in the meantime. Jokaste had run off from the Palace. And you were on your way to Vere. I was alone. I had almost died, and I only thought of you and you had left.

And that was the last thing I heard from you.

Do you want to know what I thought? What my theory was? That you hated me fiercely, but then I thought about those times when you were just, when you trusted me, when you allowed me to take a peek into your most intimate thoughts, into who you truly were, and then I wondered why, why would you allow me in if you hated me so much?” 

“-Because I couldn’t hate you at all. I tried. I truly did”.

“See, but you never said that. Not once. I have told you how much I regret what I did, how much I wish things would have been different. And yet you haven’t, not once, made it clear to me that you had… forgiven me, if that is even the word for it. You hated me and hated yourself for allowing me inside you. That was what I believed. And you had seven years to say something, a word, anything”.

“I kept a strict policy of no direct contact with you”.

Damen’s voice was a whisper when he asked, “why?”

“Because-”, Laurent cleared his throat, “it hurt too much, Damen”.

“Your indifference hurt too much, too”, was Damen’s reply.

“I was never indifferent to this, to us”.

“I didn’t know that. Why didn’t you reach out? You had those seven years to-”.

“Why didn’t I?”, Laurent interrupted him, clearly getting riled up, “must I remind you that aside from the official, protocolary correspondence from the kingdom of Akielos, the only thing I got from you was an invitation to your wedding?”

“I tried-”

“You tried when, exactly? Because it is not that difficult. There are messengers for that. Just like the one who delivered that envelope directly into my hands. I believe it took him less than one week to get there. Effective, was he not?”

“It is not-”

“What?”

“It was not my- intention to invite you. It was my obligation, not my will”.

That came out wrong. Laurent stared at him, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Damen tried to amend what he had said by adding: “That is not what I meant. What I meant to say was that I didn’t want the invitation to the ceremony to be the first time I reached out to you”.

“It was, though”.

“I wrote to you. On your birthday. Six years ago. And you did not reply. You made your message quite clear with that. So stop throwing to my face that I did not talk to you, because you did not even attempt to reach out either, so I have spent these last years wondering where the fuck did everything go so wrong between us?”

Laurent sighed and looked down. His voice was merely a whisper, resigned, exhausted, when he said: “I don’t know”.

Damen’s voice was pained as he replied, “neither do I”.

They simply stared at one another. Damen wanted to run away but he felt like he couldn’t, like his feet had buried themselves on the grass and he couldn’t move. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. His heart was rushing, his face was flushed, he could even taste the anger and the pain and the betrayal he felt and he wondered how that was even possible. He felt a hole in his chest reopening, wide and painful, an injury that had never healed, not really. 

“I want”, Laurent started, his voice soft, forcing himself to be calm but clearly struggling to do it, “I think Akielos and Vere are a testimony of what we felt”.

“I need a minute to process that you actually felt something. That it was not all just in my head”.

“How could it? I allowed myself to be vulnerable in front of you. You saw me like no one else did. Do you really think I would have allowed it if-, if I wasn’t turning my insides out over you?”

Damen sighed as he stared ahead in defeat. “I can’t. I-”, he was struggling to find the words. “Why are you doing this?”.

“Because I want you”, Laurent replied, “to be happy. And I can only imagine how many times you have gone over it in your head”.

“I had mapped a thousand replies. Never, not once, I had imagined it was because you were afraid”.

“Afraid of breaking you”.

“Afraid of everything”.

Laurent did not reply. 

Damen simply stared at the grass, feeling miserable and furious and so exhausted, as he came up with: “You say walking away was the hardest thing you have ever done. Thank you, for making walking away so easy for me, right now”.

Laurent swallowed. “You are welcome”.

Damen walked to his horse and sped towards the Palace, his back to Laurent. He needed to get away from him, as fast as he could, as far as he could. 

The last thing he saw as he rushed away was Laurent sitting in the grass, simply staring at the stream.

Chapter 22

Notes:

HELLO AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!! It has been a while, hasn't it? I'm really, really sorry for taking sooooooo long to update, but this is how long it takes to write a chapter whilst your life turns itself upside down (thankfully for the better). Everything in my life has changed since the last update, but my love for this little one, and my commitment to it, haven't! I promised you all I would see this through and I will, and hopefully now that my life is certainly less chaotic, I will find the time to get it done. I can tell you I have advanced a lot in the next couple of chapters, so the waiting won't be as torturous.

That said, I do want to thank you for your lovely comments, for sticking with this one, for reading, for suffering, for enjoying. Thanking you is not enough for your patience, your support, your expectations. I live for your comments and do know I read them and they push me to keep writing even when I can't find the time to do so.

I wish you a happy 2025 and all the best. Big hugs and thank you, once again.

Now, enjoy! (or not!) :)

Three years before

“Breathe, Damen, hey, breathe”, Nik said, looking worried, crouching down to see him face to face.

Damen was lying against a wall, his face in his hands, forcing himself to breathe. It was difficult, when had it become so difficult to breathe? When had it become a chore? It had probably happened in the last six minutes, or whatever long had passed since that moment.

Since that moment, that one and only minute when the world had seemed to be collapsing on top of him, when he felt the immediate rush of his heart, as if it was reacting on his own, as if Damen had no say over his own body, had no control at all. 

He looked different.

And at the same time, so incredibly familiar. 

And Damen could do nothing but stare. 

And stare and stare and stare whilst Laurent pretended not to notice, whilst he simply talked to Jord, not sparing a single gaze in Damen’s way, as if they were strangers, as if there was not an entire string of words and feelings and images and memories and cravings attached to their story, as if there was not an entire chest in his brain dedicated to Laurent, as if there had never been anything at all.

Perfect strangers.

As if they were two kings meeting one another for the very first time, to sign the one document that would change the trajectory of their kingdoms.

The peace agreement between Vere and Akielos. 

Damen had refused -yes, refused- to meet with Laurent for the signing. 

It had been a stupid decision, and Nik told him so a million times. Until he finally saw some reason and agreed to participate in the event, as long as there would not be any meeting with Laurent.

Yes, he knew it was stupid. He was quite aware of that.

But he wanted to avoid feeling anything at all. And if the situation was under control without them meeting, what was the need at all? He could go on for the rest of his life without ever talking to Laurent, it was the worst outcome he could possibly think of, but he had managed to for the past four years and he believed that with time it would become easier and easier and easier. 

He would have to go on for the rest of his life without ever talking to Laurent. 

He had managed to survive thus far.

That was, until he saw him again. 

And the feelings came back flooding like a river. It was as if he had built a dam to keep the thoughts from spilling, and he had saved that dam in some corner of his brain, the one corner dedicated to them. And at the sight of Laurent passing by, Laurent, regal, royal, with his deep blue velvet attire, with his deep blue eyes, with his crown, the crown that shone as much as the bracelets they had worn on their wrists, the sign of the alliance, with his aloofness, with his fake look of calm, with his fake nonchalance, Laurent pretending that everything was alright, well, that sight had broken open the dam. And the water was everywhere. All over himself, drowning him.

And so, he had done the only thing he could have thought of. He went back into his private meeting room and closed himself, so the breakdown would not be public. 

Then there was a knock on the door, and a stupid, nagging, idiotic idea crossed his mind, and he knew it was stupid but he couldn’t avoid getting his hopes up at the thought it would be Laurent. 

It wasn’t, of course. It was Nik, who walked into the mess that was Damen, Damen doing everything he could to pick up whatever he felt was left of him after pouring his entire heart in a single gaze.

“Damen”, Nik said again.

“I am not going out”.

“Damen-”, he repeated.

“I can’t- I can’t face him, Nik”, and his voice sounded defeated, a hint of desperation, of hopelessness. “It’s all- it’s all too much. Fuck”.

“I- understand it might be difficult for you to face him after all this time-”.

“It is not just difficult, it is impossible. He- I— we… Fuck. I can’t even form a coherent thought. It hurts too fucking much”, he said, the last words were whispers.

“Listen-”

Damen stood up in a rush. “No-”, he yelled, “you listen to me. I will not force myself to face him again. I do not want to see the hatred in his eyes, the coldness aimed at me again. I do not want to force a smile and pretend as if it is not killing me, and pretend that we are allies, when all we have been is-”

Everything.

“…enemies. And now we sign an agreement and shake hands and pretend that this is the start of a new chapter, when it is only the ending. I cannot fathom a smile, not when I feel like there is a blade inserting itself onto my heart, just enough to leave me bleeding, not enough to kill me”.

Nik stared at him in silence. His voice was quiet when he said, “you will not like what I will say”.

Damen rose a hand to signal that he could carry on.

Nik cleared his throat and he continued, in a low voice: “perhaps, ahem, perhaps loving someone should not hurt this much, Damen. Perhaps it should be simple, easy, perhaps this is not that love is supposed to feel like”.

Damen was about to reply when Nik interrupted him. “-But that was not what I was going to say. What I was going to say is that you are, first and foremost, a King. And your kingdom comes first. And this is historic, for both Vere and Akielos, and the least you could do is actually sign it with the only other person who had enough force of will to carry on with this despite the backlash and the challenges. I might hate him profoundly, but I can give him that much credit. This is not a moment for Damen and Laurent, this is a moment for Akielos and for Vere. You are a leader. It is you they want to see, they want to praise. Do it for the lives that will no longer be lost, for the ones that were lost for centuries of senseless and stupid war. You can put behind anything, regardless of how deep it feels, if it means that this single action will bring long-lasting peace to our kingdom”.

And Damen wanted to punch him.

Because he was unbearably right. 

The rest of the evening was a blur.

A blur of signatures and words and Laurent standing far too close to him and a little glimpse of light reflecting on the bracelet he was still wearing. And Damen clenching his jaw, clenching his fists, as he forced himself to close the dam again, to send it once again to the back, where it had been for the past four years. A blur of forced smiles, of forced nonchalance.

There was a moment when they shook hands.

And the dam was broken open once again.

And Ravenel and the shared tents and that one night that Laurent softly put some ice on his ribcage as he said “this is not the way I had planned to spend the eve of war” and Damen had replied “with me in your bed?” And Laurent had said “and in my confidences”.

And now. Nothing. 

“All hail the alliance”, was all Laurent said, as he held onto Damen’s hand. His eyes focused entirely on Damen’s. Unmovable, unstoppable, relentless.

Perfect strangers.

*************

Three years later

He was never one to linger in bed. 

But that morning, he did not feel like facing the world. Which was unfortunate because, well, the delegates would arrive that same day to take part of a summit he had been forced to host. 

It was a cloudy day. One of those days when the weather was so unpredictable, anything could happen. Back at the stream it was clear, cloudless, the stars scattered everywhere, as if they had been made for his and Laurent’s eyes alone. 

Then, it had become cloudy. The imminent threat of a storm. 

Everything was the imminent threat of a storm. 

He, himself, felt like the imminent threat of a storm. 

And the lightnings were setting his insides on fire. He was angry. And the water was pouring down from somewhere within him. He was hurting. 

He didn't know what he was feeling, he couldn't place it, couldn't understand, couldn't even begin to break it down. He felt exhausted, exhausted of feeling too much, which was not a strange concept for him lately, but he hadn't felt it with such intensity. He couldn't even begin to comprehend couldn't connect the dots couldn't understand. He tried, he really tried to put himself in Laurent's position but the only answer was that the solution that he had come up with only hurt them both.

The fact that Laurent actually had felt something for him back then had been a revelation as well. One he hadn't stopped thinking about no matter how hard he tried. It was always lurking beneath the surface, because it had always been lurking around the surface: he had wondered for seven years. If he, too, felt it, with such intensity, with such emotion, with such raw, unabashed need, just like Damen. He had wondered for years. He had asked himself over and over and over again if it truly had been all in his head, because when he never got a word from Laurent, the only solution that made sense to him was that he never actually cared at all, and that hurt a lot, but that was a thought he could make peace with.

But this thought, the thought that Laurent also felt something, something deep something he had tried to fight against, something that had consumed him, well, that thought was consuming Damen as well. They could have been everything. In another universe they were together in another universe the stars were aligned in another universe they would have talked they would have realized that the other option to not being together was to be miserable for the rest of their lives and in that universe they would have made the right choice.

That will not do.

Because the reality was one, and only one.

They were in this universe. And in this universe, Damen had already made his choice. He was to marry her.

Laurent left so he could fulfill his duties as a king, or so he claimed. Well, it was Damen’s turn to reciprocate. To do what was expected from him. To finally, finally let go. 

It was obvious either way that Laurent did not care. That Laurent had made peace with that thing Damen was only coming to terms with. And he had done so seven years ago. 

He had finally gotten his answers.

Answer 1. It was the right thing to do from Laurent’s point of view.

Answer 2. Laurent was scared.

Answer 3. Laurent ran away and avoided him because it still was the right thing to do.

Answer 4. Laurent did, at some point, have feelings for him.

Answer 5. He does not anymore. And that is why he is letting Damen know. 

In that moment, Damen knew what he had to do. He had to force himself to understand that if they did not have their chance seven years ago, they would never get it again, no matter how desperately he wanted it. And it was okay.

It was not, actually. It was awful, it was painful, it was the hardest decision of his life.

But it was a choice that had been made for himself and he had to make peace with it.

It would be okay, eventually, he reminded himself. He had chosen her because she was brilliant, and would make a wonderful queen, and whatever had happened at Ravenel was left in the past. Locked back in the dam. 

He stared at the table right next to his bed, where the two golden bracelets were still laying, a reminder, and eternal reminder. 

A reminder for a Damen who wanted to remember.

But this Damen wanted to forget.

So he stood up and stared at them. 

And remembered the way it had felt back then, when it was tied around his neck, choking him, asphyxiating him.

He examined them carefully, thinking about what they had meant for so long. 

And the decision was simple. Simpler than he would have liked. 

And throwing them to the trash was liberating. Painfully, awfully liberating.

He closed the door behind him and did not look back. 

*******

At the stables it was quiet, a haven that contrasted completely from the rush and the chaos within the Palace. He knew that they were probably looking for him at the moment. He could not care less. He needed this moment to himself, he needed to recharge, he needed to stop thinking about Laurent and he knew this was the one place where his thoughts would be diverted, to the simple, small task of brushing his mare’s hair. 

One swipe, down, then up, another swipe, and another… 

Over and over and over. 

The automaticity of it all placed his attention in a sort of limbo between the past and the present, but he was nowhere in those places, like his brain couldn’t focus on a single moment but instead of an amalgamation of memories it didn’t get to choose from, which was perfect for Damen at the moment.

It hurt. 

But one swipe and then it didn’t.

And then it did.

And then it didn’t. 

And then somewhere in-between. 

The quiet was hypnotizing, so necessary, as if it was the only thing stopping him from driving himself mad. 

And then the quiet was gone when he heard someone exclaiming behind him: “Finally! He’s here!”

Just this once, he would have welcomed the privacy. But he drew a soft, unnoticeable exhale and changed his facial expression that certainly had conveyed everything he dared not say into a smile before he turned to find Eg panting and staring at him excitedly. 

“Hello, little buddy. Been looking for me?”

“Yes!”, Eg exclaimed excitedly. 

And then he turned and yelled, “Laurent, he’s here, come over”.

Oh no.

“Actually”, Damen said immaturely as he stood up in a rush, “I am needed somewhere else-”

“Oh no, Uncle Damen, we wanted to give you a present, please stay!”.

A what?

Laurent barged in running and he looked mesmerizing. This time his outfit was red, a deep, cherry-like kind of red that suited him perfectly, and that, now that Damen thought about it, matched perfectly the red of his cape, with the small golden broidery that also matched his cape, and the white of the blouse which… also matched his cape. 

He didn’t look at Damen, he simply handed Eg something and was about to leave without saying a word but Eg stopped him by holding him by the hand and saying “stay!”.

So Laurent did and turned to look at Damen. His eyes this time not nonchalant. Actually, the opposite of that, even if it seemed impossible coming from Laurent. So blue, so expressive. Conveying something Damen could not make out, could not understand. 

Damen stared at him and even though he tried to school his features as best as he could, he was certain he was an open book, he was staring at Laurent and expressing everything he could not say.

It was silent for a moment.

And then he felt Eg pushing something right onto his abdomen. “Ow”, Damen said as he felt it against him. 

“We made it for you”.

“We?”, he asked as he looked down. 

It was a flower crown. He stared at it silently, examining it. He recognized some of the flowers from their gardens, but others… well, he hadn’t seen them. And they were beautiful, all of them. It was a thick crown, full of different kinds of flowers. It was lovely.

“Yes”, Eg said, turning to look at Laurent, “it was Laurent’s idea. We made one for him too, so you will have matching crowns. I chose the flowers, all of them were the species of flowers Laurent had taught me about, but there were some missing in the Palace so-”

“So you went out of the Palace?????”, Damen asked worriedly. 

“You were not supposed to say that, Eg!!”, Laurent scolded him as Eg gave Damen a small smile feigned with false innocence. 

“Erm- we needed them for the crown to be complete, otherwise-”… he fidgeted.

“I will pretend I did not hear anything”, Damen replied, “but do not even dare tell your mom or she will throw King Laurent out of the palace before you are done with your story”.

“No!!!”, Eg exclaimed, turning to look at Laurent with fear in his eyes, to which Laurent nodded, agreeing with Damen.

Damen couldn’t help but throw a small smile as he said, “go on”.

“-And it took us a long time but finally we got them and Laurent did not want one for himself but we had too many flowers so he agreed. He is very good at joining the flowers together even when his hands started to bleed because he accidentally pressed on a thorn…”

“On many thorns. I should not have taught you about roses”, Laurent added, his eyes fixed on Damen, as he extended his hands to show them to Damen amicably, even though they were far apart, and Damen wanted to kill him.

And his hands were filled with small cuts and bruises and scratches.

And Damen wanted to kill him. 

And sense overcame reason and he moved forward and placed his hands below Laurents’, softly, in order to examine them closely.

He felt Laurent’s small intake of breath and he ignored it.

He smelled Laurent’s fragrance and he ignored it. 

He simply looked at the cuts in Laurent’s hands. 

“You need to get this one checked”, he said, pressing on one of the injuries. Laurent hissed and Damen smiled, moving back. 

He would be lying if he didn’t say that he was moved by the sweetness of this moment.

And he wanted to kill Laurent. 

He bent down and put his head down to allow Eg to place the flower crown on top of him. “Do me the honors, please, Eg”.

Eg smiled as he moved towards him and exclaimed, “I hereby pronounce you… Damianos, King of Flowers”.

Damen laughed. 

“What am I, then?”, Laurent said. “I also have a flower crown!”.

 “You are King of Sunlight”, Eg replied, “You are what the flowers look for when they need to survive, without you, there would be no flowers”, he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, then he hesitated, “that is true, yes?”, he asked Laurent.

“Yes. Both things are true. 1. Without the sun the flowers can’t feed themselves and they would die. And 2. I am the king of sunlight”.

Damen smiled as he stood up only for Laurent to follow suit and crouch as well so Eg would crown him. The crowns were almost identical in their composition. Eg looked up at them both and simply stated: “I now pronounce you flowers and sunlight”.

He moved forward and hugged both Damen and then Laurent before saying, “now I have to get ready for the event, see you, uncles!”, and took off running.

Laurent’s eyes were fixed on Damen, on the flower crown. Damen stared back at him and they simply looked at one another in silence, a thousand thoughts wandering in their heads. Damen’s were quite clear, and when those thoughts invaded him, it was difficult to replace them for the other ones, the ones he had felt so intensely, so profoundly mere minutes ago. Now they seemed buried in the back of his head, way back, because staring at Laurent was inebriating. It rendered him powerless, unable to do anything else than simply stare, and stare, and stare, drunk in memories, in hopes, in dreams, in illusions and in impossibilities. 

He blinked and took a step back, clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure. He looked down and realized that Laurent had also turned to look somewhere else. 

This situation was unbearable. 

It was unbearable because he could not run away. His feelings were absorbing him, he felt like he was being consumed by them, as if right at the moment when Laurent was right in front of him nothing else mattered, as if the pain, the disdain, the disappointment, everything he had been nurturing during these past years faded away in the blink of an eye, because this was Laurent.

And perhaps it was time to admit that he was deeply, completely in love with Laurent. 

Had always been. 

Nothing had changed. Well, everything else had changed, but his feelings had only grown stronger, more intense, more all-encompassing. 

But, once again, everything else had changed.

He was getting married. 

This could not be. He had made his choice. 

Laurent was still staring at him, the distance still present, so palpable, so real. 

Damen nodded at him, a way of saying goodbye, before turning his back to him. 

He felt, rather than saw, Laurent’s hesitation. His insecurities showing for a small fraction of a second. 

“Damen”, he whispered.

Damen stopped, without turning back to face him, immediately fearing whatever that was about to come out of Laurent’s mouth. It couldn’t be good, in any way, it could not be good. 

He remained silent but didn’t move, showing him with that small act that he had his full attention. 

“I have another present for you”, was all Laurent said.

Damen didn’t turn. “Why?”, he whispered. 

He felt Laurent taking one, two tentative steps towards him. “It is an important day”, he whispered.

“You do not have to”, Damen said.

“You have not seen it”, was the reply, a tentative step forward. A silent whisper. Laurent was too close. Damen stared at him. Actually, he wasn’t, not technically. If he had to say it, Laurent was physically far away but he was too close, too close to breaking down all of the walls he had built, all of them. All of them over and over and over again. 

Laurent, I am your slave.

Damen blinked and while he had been staring into nothingness, at some point, Jord had appeared, a skeptical, untrustworthy look on his face, as if he wanted nothing to do with this moment, with Laurent. Jord was carrying a small carriage with a big package and looking miserable. It was at moments like these when Damen wanted to remind him of Aimeric, wanted it to hurt. 

And then he thought of the unimaginable pain he had felt. All these years, all this time. All this longing. Everything.

But then, Laurent was alive.

To think you have lost the love of your life, who turned out to be a traitor, and pretend like your insides are not turning themselves inside out of pain, well, Damen could not even imagine that. 

To mourn the loss of someone that was still alive and breathing, that was another kind of pain. But a lesser kind of pain, he supposed. 

“What is it?”, was all Damen could say. 

“Open it”, was Laurent’s reply. 

And against his better instincts, he moved forward and unwrapped it. 

It was a plaque. 

A beautiful, carefully designed plaque. Simple, elegant, nothing that could have possibly come out of Vere. It looked like it belonged to Akielos, it fitted the Palace perfectly, even the color of the letters matched the layout of the grand salon. 

IN REMEMBRANCE OF

THE SUMMIT OF THE FOUR KINGDOMS

LED BY 

KING DAMIANOS OF AKIELOS

A milestone for peace-building and unity between the kingdoms. 

All hail the alliance. 

Damen stared at it, speechless. And read it over and over and over and over. 

He heard Jord clearing his throat and he looked up. Jord was looking at him, clearly fed up with Damen’s inaction.

“Thank you, Jord, you can take it back to the grand salon. If it’s alright for Damianos, we can arrange to have it hung there once the summit is over”, Laurent instructed.

Damen nodded silently. 

“Thank you”, was what Damen whispered and he didn’t know who he was aiming it to.

“Whatever”, was Jord’s reply as he turned, pushing the carriage with him. “-Your honor”, he added as a second thought, perhaps realizing what he had said might make him lose his post. You could not respond to a King in such a manner, especially to the enemy.

Laurent chuckled a bit as Jord left, thrilled with Jord’s very evident disdain towards Damen.

Then he turned back to Damen and his smile vanished. He managed to school his features, as he always managed to, as he said, “do you like it?”

Damen simply nodded, taken aback by how unexpected that entire moment had been. “Yes. Thank you, really”.

Laurent shrugged, feigning confidence, pretending that everything was alright, but there was some hesitance in his expression, in the way he held himself, he didn’t look entirely certain as he replied: “It is what you deserve. To be recognized throughout history as a fair and honest king, who did everything at his hand to achieve peace between the kingdoms”.

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I think more of you”.

“That was not what-”

“What?”

“What you used to tell me… before”.

“Times have changed”.

“I killed your brother”.

“And you had every single chance to kill me, and you saved me, and you kept saving me over and over and over. And you proved me wrong. Everything I believed about you was always wrong. But I know this one thing is right”.

Damen moved forward just a step. “Why?”

“Why what?”

He didn’t know what to say. He had too many questions. He wanted to ask too many things. 

“Why are you doing this?”, was what he came up with.

“Because I want you to believe it.”

“Yes, but-”

“Because you helped me. Because this would not have been possible without you. Because you are saving me, too. Once again”.

Laurent took a step forward. 

“Because I trust you”, was all he said, no more than a whisper.

Damen nodded and looked down. His brain was foggy. It was difficult, thinking, especially when Laurent was so close to him, he could almost see his lashes, if he looked up. And so he didn’t. 

Laurent spoke up again. “The letters of the plaque-”, he started, cleared his throat, and spoke again, “they are made of gold.”

“They are beautiful”.

“From the same gold of the bracelets”.

Damen frowned. “What?”

“As a reminder of our… alliance”.

“But you gave me your bracelet. Did you take it back?”

It didn’t make sense, he had looked at that damn bracelet over his nightstand night after night. He had thrown it to the trash that morning. 

“I-”, Laurent’s voice was incredibly soft when he said, “I had saved some of it. After- after it was taken off you. I asked for a part of it, the rest went to the bracelets. I kept the rest”.

“Why?”

“You know why”.

Damen closed his eyes and simply stood there. 

They were silent. 

He felt a small shuffle. He knew deep inside him that Laurent had taken a step closer and Damen couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes.

He felt, then, the crown being fixed over his head. “There, that’s better”, Laurent whispered, and Damen could feel his breath so close to him, and Damen wanted to fuck up. Wanted to fuck everything up. 

Couldn’t. 

He opened his eyes to find Laurent’s deep blue ones fixed on him, staring at his face. A mixture of nostalgia was written behind his eyes. 

But also a certain… resignation. 

Laurent smiled at him. A soft, tentative smile. It was meant to be a reassuring smile. It only came across as a sad smile. And Damen wanted to know why. But he also knew he was threading dangerous ground. He needed to stop. All of this needed to stop. 

He whispered when he said: “Thank you, thank you for this, and for-”, he hesitated, “well, you saved my life as well. I come back to those moments and wonder why, why everything had to happen the way it did. And I can only say that the Gods planned for us to meet, for all of this to happen. We were meant to happen, for peace to happen to our kingdoms. And I am thankful for it, you- you changed my life.”

“All hail the alliance”, was Laurent’s reply. 

Damen smiled back and nodded as a way to say goodbye. 

He turned again. 

He heard a shuffle of feet behind him. 

And seconds later, a soft, hesitant, “Damen?”

Damen didn’t turn. Couldn’t. He clinched his jaw. Didn’t reply.

Once again. Hesitant. “Damen”.

“Don’t”. Was all Damen said. Because deep down, down, down, he knew what was coming. He could feel it he could see it in Laurent’s eyes and he couldn’t hold onto it. Couldn’t run away. Couldn’t pretend. Couldn’t hope. Couldn’t dare to dream. Don’t.

Everything could be ruined just with what Laurent would say. 

Or saved.

No, no, definitely ruined. 

Laurent was silent behind him.

“Don’t, please, don’t”, Damen said, once again.

And Laurent’s reply was short, simple, stripped off complexities and embellishments. Direct, straight to the point. Like a blade piercing itself into an injury. 

“I’m still in love with you”.

The blade, piercing itself into the injury. 

Chapter 23

There is this small chest Damen had saved for years, once he returned to the Palace at Ios. 

Call it nostalgia, call it holding onto whatever was left of the life he once knew. 

It holds small objects he has undeniably attached to a memory he will treasure for the rest of his life. 

The last time he opened it, it had been Kastor’s birthday, two years ago. 

And the first thing that laid there was a small branch from the same tree Kastor had taught him to climb when they were kids. Damen had ripped it off seven years ago, as soon as his injury had healed enough for him to get out. 

It was a small reminder, sometimes a painful one, sometimes a joyful one, of the brother he had once had. And stupidly, staring at that branch, touching it, looking at it, gave him some sort of comfort he could not quite describe. 

It was as if a part of his brain travelled back in time to remind him of another time in his life. 

It was, also, a reminder that the present was also the result of this. 

Of course, it was most certainly the result of the worst moments he had lived, like being strapped to a post and nearly whipped to death, or being stabbed by his own brother. But the present was also the result of moments like these. Of moments of peace, of joy, of moments when he had felt lucky to be alive. And when he had been younger, he had had many of those.  

Life, he believed, was about attaching smells, situations, feelings, to small objects, to those he could come back to when life became unbearable, just to remind himself that, regardless of the circumstances, life was worth living. It was worth to love, to laugh, to enjoy, to sit next to Eg watching the sunset as the waves came and went. 

The chest also held the first tooth Eg lost when he turned five. 

And deep, deep down, there is a small note Laurent had written to him when he was still a slave. It was a meaningless note with instructions that Jord had handed him, and Damen had held onto it, time and time again. It was with him when he was stabbed. It was saved for him when he was stripped off his clothes and examined. It was returned to him, along with the bracelet, along with the only possessions he still had left, when he had been released from the makeshift hospital. 

And that little note was the one who pushed him to start collecting memories in the first place. Because memory is a treacherous thing. And details get forgotten. And the rush of the daily life starts pushing away the important details, blurring them, and selective memory betrays you and then whatever you remember is no longer how you used to remember it. But staring at those objects, Damen forced himself to relive, to remember, to go against the rules, against his own mind, and hold onto the only moments he felt truly alive. 

If he were to look back at this moment, many years later, the first thing that would come to Damen’s mind would be the strong smell of roses. 

If he were to look back at this moment, he would remember that his palms were sweating, his heart was rushing, and he would describe what he felt as a wave, but not one of those that he was used to seeing for hours during the summer, more like one of those he ran away from, those that formed during the winter, when storms broke and they were surrounded by a thick fog, and all they heard were these gigantic waves hitting the shore, threatening to take everything with them, like forces of nature demanding to be recognized, to be acknowledged, to be remembered. 

And if he were to save anything from this exact moment to put in the chest, he would save the thorn. 

He felt like his heart was beating slower. Which did not make sense at all, because he could feel it beating faster. But the physical pain that invaded his chest made him think his heart was about to stop altogether. And in the midst of the fog and the waves and the thorns and the turmoil, a small part of him wondered how it was possible to feel physical pain when he wasn’t ill, when it was all in his mind, all in his heart.

And yet, it was not the first time he experienced it. He had felt something similar when his father had passed away. When Laurent admitted he had always known who he was. When he had woken up in that hospital bed alone. 

But it had been a long time since he had felt it. Not with such intensity, not with this raw honesty, with this need to be acknowledged, to be felt in all of its extension, in all of its complexities. 

Laurent was still in love with him.

Damen turned slowly, very slowly to look at Laurent, and the sight left him speechless. Laurent was not staring at him, not really, instead he was looking down, clenching and unclenching his fists, as if he was unable to look up, as if he was terrified of looking up, as if he was silently chiding himself for revealing too much, as if he had not intended to but he had been rendered powerless to avoid it and it was too late to take it back. 

Damen considered for a moment if he could pretend, if they could pretend, he had not said anything at all. 

But the truth was… he really did not want to. 

He did not want to pretend this had not happened. Because he just heard it. He did. And Laurent could not take it back. And Damen did not want him to take it back. 

He was still looking down when Damen replied the only thing he could possibly think of. His voice was rushed, silent, merely a whisper, feeling like his heart was being ripped off his chest when he replied, “what did you just say?”

Laurent flinched as he looked up and stared back at Damen. His voice sounded hopelessly defeated when he said, “you heard it. I…”, he cleared his throat, “I am still in love with you”.

And it hurt to hear it. It hurt even worse when his deep, intense, piercing blue eyes were fixed on him, when this moment he had dreamt of over and over and over was becoming a reality right in front of him, and it had been everything he’d dreamt of, except now it was an impossibility, it was too late, it was no longer an option. Damen clenched his jaw and felt helpless. His reply was quick, simple. “Why?”

“How could I not?”, was Laurent’s reply.

“It’s been seven years”, was all Damen said, feeling helpless, his jaw clenched, his voice shaky, he was breathing heavily, his fists clenching and unclenching. He couldn’t, he simply couldn’t understand.

“I know. I have counted every single day”, a step forward.

Damen took a step backwards. 

Laurent stood still. Opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again. Dragged a deep breath. His voice was barely a whisper when he said, “I tried. I tried so hard to forget you, Damianos. And then days and weeks and months passed by, and your memory was still there, it was everywhere. Out of nowhere I would remember, and remember, and remember. And my heart would shrink a little. And I thought time would heal. Would make it better. And I would have never imagined that seven years later I would be here, again, staring at you, telling you this. It was not, it is not what I wanted. But I cannot- I cannot run away from it anymore”, he said and his last words sounded helpless, desperate, as if the whole situation was overcoming him, overpowering him.

And Damen simply couldn’t understand. 

Laurent plunged on. “It has been seven lonely years”, was all he said.

And Damen was angry, irrationally angry, desperately angry, as if anger was the only way to respond to the amalgamation of feelings that were flooding him, as if anger was the only way to run away from it, to cause Laurent pain. “You-”, and his voice was breathless, “you were the one who left”, he replied. 

“I-”, Laurent started. 

Damen rose a hand to stop him. “No. No, I will talk now. You left and you think you can just come back seven years later and I will be waiting for you? Aching for you? After seven years of wondering, and wondering, and hurting… you do not get to come back and tell me this, Laurent”.

“I do not get to?”, Laurent replied, defiantly.

“What do you want from me? What do you want from this? What-”, he took a calming breath and willed his heart to beat at least a little, just a little, slower. It didn’t work. “What are you doing here?”, he asked helplessly.

“I do not-”, Laurent was looking down, as if he was silently chastising himself for saying too much, for revealing too much. “I do not expect anything from you. I just could not hide it anymore. I am exhausted of carrying with the burden of loving you and knowing there is nothing I can do about it”.

“That was your choice to make”.

“It was- it was not. I would have given everything, everything, for-”

“For what?”

“…For the circumstances to be different”.

“They are not. I killed your brother. You killed my brother. You are king and I am king. And I did not ask for this”.

Laurent looked desperate when he replied. “I did not ask for this either, Damianos. Do you think I wanted to fall for the person who killed my brother?”

“I did not want to fall for my captor, either. And yet-”

“And yet”.

“I am getting married”.

“I know”.

Damen stood silent for a moment. Then he breathed a humorless laugh. “Of course you do. Can I make a guess? Because it has been seven years and yet, I still think I know you. Let me guess. You received the invitation and suddenly you were invaded by the impulse to come forward, to try and win me back because you cannot face the fact you are not the-”

“Do not dare!”, Laurent said, raising his voice. 

Damen frowned and grew silent.

“Do not dare to say it”, Laurent continued, more silently, “do not say it as if it was a calculated move on my part. As if I planned all of this, because this is the most irrational thing I have ever done. I should not have come. But the moment I saw you, I-”, he cleared his throat, “I knew I had made the right choice. It did not matter how much it would hurt me, if it meant that I would to talk to you again, to spend time with you. So no, it was not me looking for attention, it was me desperately clinging to the memory of you”.

“And you used the treaty as an excuse”.

“I-”

Damen laughed again, at the absurdity of it all. It all made sense now, how could he not have seen it? Right, because he was too busy wearing his fucking heart in his throat, feeling it being ripped out of him whilst he was forced to keep planning a wedding he did not want to have in the first place, because it was the right thing to do, when all he wanted, all he had ever wanted was to revive the fleeting, instantaneous, unforgettable seconds of ecstasy that he had felt in Ravenel, when he was holding Laurent in his hands and admiring the fact he had the honor to hold him. And in the meantime Laurent was pining just as much?

It did not make sense. It did not- It could not. 

It could not. 

Damen was too fucking angry. 

Seven. Fucking. Years. 

He had been miserable for seven years and now Laurent was daring to come back and tell him all of these things and pretend that everything was alright? What did he expect? That Damen would come running back to him?

He would have. In any other moment, he would have.

But now, he had a duty to fulfill, and the past seven years had taught him that he could live through this. No matter how desperately he wanted it, how achingly, hopelessly, intensely needed it. Everything within him burned with intensity, everything within him was collapsing, was building itself back together, he was a collage of feelings he could not even name, but that were overpowering him. Anger. For certain. Sadness. Deep and rooted and making itself known with a depth he had not felt for seven years. It was as if there was this cave within him that was holding all of the sadness, and he had discovered that the cave was deeper, so so so much deeper than he once thought it was, and he wondered for a fleeting second if it was even humanly possible to feel so much sadness contained in one person. 

But also - and he would never admit this to anyone, ever. 

A stupid, a fleeting, a small, a sliver, a tiny, incredibly tiny but incredibly overpowering sense of hope. 

It was absurd, he knew it. Absolutely preposterous, and surely he would have to reexamine that in the upcoming days and avoid that feeling from ever coming back, ever again, but truth was he had just heard the words he had been begging all of those years to hear. And he could not quite shake the feeling he had just heard them. And he could not pretend not to. And once he would assimilate them he would move on from this stupid feeling, but at the moment he reveled in it, just a little bit. 

Laurent was still in love with him. 

And for all the gods, Damen was still in love with him, with every single part of his being, of his existence. 

And the tragedy: that did not change one single thing. 

No. 

He would marry Irina in a week. And Laurent would leave. And the treaty would remain. And they would meet again over and over and they would try their best to forget these words were ever said and their lives would carry on and they would be unhappy for the rest of their lives. 

And it was okay. 

No it was not. It was heart-wrenching. It was a nightmare. An absolute tragedy. 

And yet Damen knew it was the only possibility. The only path.  

“After Ravenel-”, Damen started, willing himself to calm down. It was an irony, truly, that he, who was impulsive and energetic and emotional, managed to regain his composure whenever a critical situation demanded it, whereas Laurent, with his ability to calculate every possibility, every situation, lost control whenever he was pushed to the limit, and Damen could not blame him for it. “After Ravenel, were you in love with me?”. And he had to ask. 

Laurent looked at him silently. “Were you?”

“You saw me that night, Laurent. I am certain you saw it all written on my face, because I was unable to hide it. It did not matter if you knew the truth or not, it did not change a thing, I would have died for you”.

“I did”, Laurent crossed his arms defensively, “notice”.

“I know. What stopped you, then?”.

“That I hated you as much as I wanted you”.

“And now?”

“And now I simply want you”.

Damen shook his head and looked down. He was certain his face was saying everything he did not have the words to say. He felt hopeless. “Seven years too late”, was all he said. 

“But-”

“But nothing, Laurent. And honestly I find it offensive, that you would dare come here, when I am engaged to be married, when I am one week away from getting married, to tell me the things you should have said seven years ago, when I woke up alone in that bed wondering where everything had gone wrong, because you were transparent too, even if you do not think you are, and during those final days, during the trial, when-”, he cleared his throat to regain his composure, “when you killed Kastor to save me and then stared at me desperately with heat and worry in your eyes, I was convinced, in the midst of the pain and barely conscious, that it was not all in my mind. You cannot simply appear in my palace, in my confidences, to tell me this”.

And as he said it, it was breaking him apart. But he needed to say it, because it was the most honest, the most human reaction he could have. Laurent did not have the right to choose what Damen felt or did not feel. And at the moment, everything Damen felt was pain and hurting, as if a knife was twisting itself over his heart and his chest and he hated Laurent so much in that very moment. 

Laurent stared at him silently for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. And then something inside him flipped. And whatever was drawn in his face was not there anymore. The wall was back. So familiar to Damen, so difficult to crack down, so rewarding when it had fallen apart, so painful to see it back in place. “That is your response, then”, was what he said.

“What else do you want me to tell you? I already told you everything, Laurent. I told you how miserable I was, I had been, because of you. I told you that this is the choice I made and this”, he pointed between them, “this changes nothing. You are king and I am king. I am engaged. And it took me long enough to forget you only for you to come back and pretend we could go back to, to-”, he swallowed, overwhelmed by sadness and nostalgia, “-to whatever we were. To whatever we… nurtured back on those tents, back on those nights”.

Attend me.

This is not the way I planned to spend the eve of war. -With me in your bed? -And in my confidences.

You remind me of my brother. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that.

You take a great deal of pleasure in small victories.

The world was not made for beauty like this.

Friends? Is that what we are?

Laurent, I am your slave.

Tomorrow you leave, but you’re mine now.

I can’t. I can’t have this for just one night. - One night and one morning.

The ghosts of the memories they had lived together suddenly invaded Damen with a rush and an intensity that rendered him powerless. And a side of his brain, the last part that was still holding onto some sense of reality, of the present, wondered for a second how it was possible that he would still remember every single word, every single situation, every detail they had lived seven years ago? 

The chest. All of them were buried deep inside the chest. 

He felt overwhelmed again and started breathing hard, a strange feeling taking over him. He felt his breathing was rushed and everything in his chest hurt and he could not think. “Damen?”, he heard in the distance, softly. 

“Let me in”, he had said that one night, seven years ago. 

“I am your slave”, he had said that one night, seven years ago. 

He felt a soft touch in his cheek and it burned. And it healed. And it hurt. And something in between. 

His only instinct was to grab onto it. And to pull it away. And so he did. He took Laurent’s hand and pulled it off his face. And when he finally felt like he could breathe again, worried eyes were on him, but Laurent was silent, did not dare to ask a question, did not dare to utter a word. 

Damen was still holding onto his hand. 

It felt different. Somehow. Different to what his memory had brought up as he remembered the feeling from seven years ago. Not better, not worse, just different. And cold, always so cold. 

Damen did not let go. 

And Laurent did not move either. 

They stared at each other and somehow, those minutes in which Damen had allowed himself to be overtaken by memories and feelings had brought down Laurent’s wall as well. Because he saw a certain feeling he could not quite describe written on his features. And it was painful to see. And yet, he was so close to Laurent, so unbearably close. And he wanted to run away. And he wanted to stay like this forever. 

“I-”, Laurent’s voice was barely a whisper, “I understand”. And he held onto Damen’s hand, just a little tighter.

And what the hell did he mean by that? Because Damen did not feel like he meant he understood what Damen had last said some minutes ago, it felt like he meant to say he understood whatever Damen was feeling and it did not make sense because for him it was simply not possible that another person could feel so fucking much at the same time. No. Laurent could not understand, it did not matter how much he said he did. 

He could not understand this feeling like his heart was breaking into a million pieces over and over and over and over again. 

He could not. 

Damen stared at him and was about to reply when they heard someone clearing their throat behind them. 

He turned to the corner to find Jord looking at them. No surprise written in his eyes. Nothing to give him away. “Your highness-”, he said.

“What?”, was Laurent’s reply. Annoyed or relieved or something in between. 

Jord sighed before he replied, “…King Torgeir and Empress Halvik have arrived. You are both required at the entrance of the Palace”. 

Of course, of course the fucking summit was about to start. 

Damen wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, and he would have, if he didn’t-

If he didn’t feel like his whole world had just been turned upside down. 

Jord seemed to grasp onto the intimacy of the moment and simply said, “you are expected in two minutes”, before turning and leaving them.

Damen let go of Laurent’s hand, once he realized he was still holding onto it. 

“Damen-”

“Don’t”, was all Damen said as he turned to leave.

He fixed his crown and left Laurent behind him as he ran to the entrance of the Palace. 

As he stopped in the entrance, he was greeted by Irina, who was smiling warmly. “We were looking for you everywhere”, she said, and she looked excited. Her red, flowy dress matched the color of Damen’s cape. He looked at her and could not reply, he could not look at her. Not when his hand was still cold from the touch of Laurent. Not when all he could think about was the fact that Laurent was still in love with him. 

She did not seem to notice. She was excited, Damen could tell. She enjoyed it. She was fit for it. She would make an excellent job. She was smart and efficient and she loved getting involved and she made sound decisions and she was to marry him soon. “Come”, she gestured to him as she pulled him by the hand. The very same hand that still held the ghost of Laurent’s touch. And it hurt to breathe. And Damen wondered if they could feel it, if they could see it, how his heart was threatening to get out of his chest. “They are arriving”.

They stood at the entrance of the Palace. The Akielon Council and Laurent’s advisors were also there. And as Damen heard the gates of the palace opening, he heard a rustle of clothes next to him, a shortness of breath and a sudden warmth. 

He turned to his side to see Laurent’s eyes staring at him. His breathing rushed, his presence as regal as always. His face giving nothing away. 

And as Damen held onto Irina’s hand, he felt the softest of touches against his other hand, as Laurent’s hand grazed the back of his hand. 

He stared straight ahead and did his utmost to ignore the pain that was emanating from his chest. 

He had a duty to fulfill. They all did.

Chapter 24

Notes:

I KNOW IT TOOK ME TOO LONG TO WRITE THIS BUT!!! life keeps happening and getting in the way. I'm sorry. I don't even have a writer's block I just genuinely can't find the time to write it, but we're back and I promise I'll do my best to deliver in shorter periods of time. Thank you for your patience and all your beautiful love toward the past chapter, hope this one lives up to it! Big hugs!!!

One, two, three, four, five, six. Breathe. Repeat. Breathe. Repeat. One, two, three, four, five, six. 

Damen had taught himself that breathing exercise first when his bleary eyes were fixed for the very first time on Laurent, when he first arrived to Vere as a slave. They helped him hold onto consciousness, be slightly present at the moment. They helped him to deal with the fact he was in awful lots of trouble, back then, because he had just arrived to the country of the man whose brother he had killed. 

And if he were to remember that particular moment, never he would have guessed that this would be the outcome of that first, uncomfortable, hideous encounter. He never would have guessed that seven years later they would be standing side by side, the outsides of their hands barely brushing, holding onto the only thing that was still theirs, a fleeting touch, a painful reminder of the life that could have been, as they performed the task they knew they were born to: be the proper representatives of two kingdoms formerly at war, to be, also, a testimony of peace, while Damen held onto the hand of the woman he was to marry in few days. 

It was a nightmare, in every sense of the word. A nightmare disguised as good news. 

He was distracted, he knew that much. And the part of his brain that was still mildly conscious and aware was wondering how Laurent could manage to show such nonchalance, such calm, such tranquility as -if anything he said was to be believed, and in all fairness Damen had no reasons to think it was not the case- …as he allowed himself to lose the love of his life. 

There was no victory in this situation, Damen had come to realize. There were no winners, there was only pain. Even if he left everything for Laurent -which he would have done, years ago, in a blink, without even considering it twice-, he would hurt Irina. And in the only possible outcome, in which he was to marry her, he knew now Laurent would be hurt and-

And it should not be so painful, the thought of hurting Laurent. 

It should not hurt that much, and yet it did, it killed him inside, the idea that all he could do for the person he had loved the most in his life was to cause him pain, over and over and over again. It was killing him. 

Could Laurent ever feel the same thing? Did he feel the same thing as he walked away and left Damen alone in a gurney seven years ago?

He would never get his answer. 

And it was even more surprising that this thought of hurting Laurent was more painful than the thought of how much actual pain he was feeling at the moment. It did not matter. It was as if his pain was not his own, not truly, when Laurent’s pain meant so much more to him, felt deeper, felt more personal. Felt as if it was his fault. 

Except it was not. He did not intend for any of this to happen. He zigzagged between all these feelings that he could not even name but he could only feel deep inside, in a moment when what he needed the most was to keep his head cold, rational, conscious. It was not a moment to be Damen the person, he could only be Damen the king.

But how to be a proper king when the person below the shell was so irreparably broken?

Helvik and Torgier stepped forward and greeted them. Irina did most of the talking, for which Damen was grateful. Laurent spoke as well but there was something off in his speech. It was slower, more calculated, as if he was carefully considering every single word that came out of his mouth, as if every word took him effort, as if the simple act of speaking was too much for him to handle. 

The program for the day was simple: a first, introductory meeting where they would discuss the general points of the Summit, followed by statements from each kingdom, then a small break for them to rest, and finally a dinner reception hosted by Damen. 

Torgier congratulated him on the upcoming wedding, elated with how it represented a new chapter in the relations between Akielos and Patras. He even offered another one of his female relatives to Laurent, to which he simply replied with a soft smile.

As soon as the greetings were done and they were ushered back to the Palace, Laurent moved apart, as if trying to self impose some sort of distance between them, as if forcing himself to accept the brash reality they would have to deal with from then on. 

Irina grabbed Damen by the elbow at a point and whispered in her ear, “are you certain you are well? You seem… slightly off”, was all she said, so diplomatically. 

Damen nodded. “I am well. It’s nervousness, that is all. I will be forever remembered as the king who hosted this summit. Whatever the outcome is, the historical consequences of this encounter will forever be linked to me. And to Laurent, I suppose, but especially me”.

“You have nothing to worry about. There is will, there is openness, there is trust, there are kingdoms who, for the first time in recent history, have finally reached a middle ground. You are the king who has heralded that. And that is how history will remember you”.

She had a way with words.

And oh, how Damen wished he could be in love with her. 

Laurent, in the meantime, was talking seriously to Jord. His face a mask again, exuding a kind of nonchalance that made it seem like he knew he was ready to take on the task of co-hosting this Summit, but the air of arrogance that sometimes seemed to accompany him everywhere was slipping away. He presented himself as an amenable king, as someone approachable, level-headed, trust-worthy. He was good at this. Damen had nothing to fear.

Except he had everything to fear. 

And in that moment, as he turned for a couple of seconds to fix his eyes on Laurent, he realized that all he wanted was for them to have some time alone. He had truly enjoyed those nights of plotting and thinking and agreeing on points to be discussed at the summit. And he didn’t enjoy them because of the summit itself, but because Laurent allowed him to be completely, unabashedly, whole-heartedly himself. He was his most authentic in those moments of plotting, discussing, creating, proposing. He was his most authentic when he was with Laurent. 

Focus. 

They sat next to one another for the first meeting. Not even the advisors were allowed there, which meant that Nik and Jord were off the table. Damen and Laurent had intended for it to be that way, so the kings and the empress would feel the confidence to state their intentions in privacy and secrecy. 

When it was Laurent’s turn to speak, his voice didn’t quell, didn’t shake. He was determined, secure and at the top of his game. He mentioned his assassination attempt, mentioned the intentional instability brought upon by his uncle’s supporters and requested military aid from the other kingdoms. Torgier did not seem fazed by it, instead asking Damen what was his position on the matter, to which Damen said “when we signed the Peace Agreement, we also agreed to become allies in every single aspect of our relations. We are holding onto this Agreement. We support it”.

The topic, Helvik concluded, could still be discussed in the upcoming days. It would certainly be one of the main topics, but the response was better than expected. Perhaps Irina was right, perhaps this was the right moment to hold that Summit, perhaps the region was going through a kind of stability that was difficult to achieve, lest of all maintain. And that momentum worked in his and Laurent’s favor. 

When it was Damen’s turn to speak it was time to unveil the proposal he and Laurent had carefully been working on: an ambitious plan to promote the trade and the exchange of goods between the kingdoms. 

He had prepared the arguments, Laurent had seen to them alongside him. A free trade would mean that all the kingdoms would prosper. But he also knew Halvik would not be very open to the idea. It defied the seclusion and the privacy that constituted the very core of the Vaskian empire itself. It was ambitious indeed, but, Damen and Laurent believed, it would be a useful way of improving the relations between the kingdoms, guaranteeing more prosperity.

It would take some convincing but the odds were in their favor. Or so Damen expected. 

As soon as the first meeting was over, Damen felt drained. He had managed to push what had happened with Laurent to the back of his brain, and thinking about something else was a helpful distraction, but it was taking him too much brainpower to be a king and to be a person. It seemed like both instances were not possible at the moment, or ever, now that he thought about it. Being a king invited to some kind of imagery, some kind of ideal that did not allow the opportunity to be a real person. He was always wearing a mask, as much as he tried to hide it. So did Laurent. And the only moments where they were simply, unapologetically themselves was when they, who knew what power entailed, who knew the advantages, and the high-stake consequences of it, who understood each other in a way no one else did, were alone. Which was perhaps part of the reason why Damen craved to spend more time with him, so he could be himself. 

He invited the guests to rest and prepare for the dinner and reception in the evening. That would give him a couple of hours to clear his mind and redirect his focus back to this summit. Couldn’t Laurent have chosen another moment to speak his mind? Why then? Why say it? If he knew the result would be the same? Did he want to sabotage Damen? The summit? It did not make sense at all. It would not benefit him to sabotage his own summit, unless he wanted to show the king of Akielos as someone weak, as- 

No. Laurent would not do that.

Damen knew him better than that. 

Did he?

It had been seven years. 

But it also had been countless nights in tents and several nights seven years later plotting and planning and listening and seeing Laurent’s eyes glimmering with excitement whenever an idea came to his head and the way he talked about his people and his kingdom and his brother. It was his utter commitment to his role and his passion to do the right thing. Sure, he had his ways, but he always had a moral compass that guided him through. No. Laurent would not do that. There was no doubt in Damen’s brain, because he knew him. It did not matter how much he tried to deny it, to ignore that, but they knew each other and they were attuned to one another in a way that was impossible to explain, lest of all to understand. He did not, could not understand why, but when they were together, everything simply fit into place. 

Laurent had not moved. 

He was quietly reading through his notes, focused, as if he had abstracted himself from the room and was locked in his own brain, plotting the next step. 

When Helvik and Torgier left and they were alone, Damen took his time to examine him. He crossed his arms and leaned against the table. Laurent kept reading and checking his notes, unmoving. 

He was so beautiful. 

Damen hated him for that. 

“Are you done?”, Laurent said, taking Damen out of his reverie. He was unmoving, still reading. 

“What?”

“Are you done staring or do you expect that after long enough you will be able to read my mind? Because I think you will be disappointed”.

Damen straightened up and uncrossed his arms, standing more defiantly, defensively. “I was merely thinking”, he lied.

Laurent looked up at him seriously. Their eyes met and Damen was stricken again by his beauty. His blue eyes. His deep, wonderful blue eyes. 

Focus. 

Lords, he wanted to step forward, he wanted to close the distance, he wanted to touch his hair and tuck that strand of hair that was falling out behind his ear, he wanted to touch his cheek, he wanted to breathe the same air, he wanted their breaths to align in tandem, he wanted to feel his lips again. 

He wanted-

Focus. 

Laurent’s voice was all business when he said: “Helvik will be difficult to convince. Her statement somehow implied she was reluctant to accept being a part of the Summit in the first place and many of our proposals play against her cultural ideas. We should accommodate more to what she expects from the Summit, be willing to leverage our ideas versus her goals. Otherwise she will not be on our side”.

All Damen could do was stare. Because how could he not? How could he not pretend that all he could think about was the about the fact that less than an hour ago Laurent had told him he had loved him all along? He had tried but now that they were gone, he just could not. 

“What?”, was all Laurent said as he realized Damen had been quiet for too long. 

“So this is how you want it to be, then”.

“I am not certain I understand what you mean”.

“You will pretend like none of it happened. Like you just did not say what you said. Like you are impenetrable, but we both know better than that. Don’t you ever get tired of pretending you don’t feel anything?”, was Damen’s reply, soft but straight to the point.

Laurent stood up. His face unmoving but his voice just as soft as he replied. “You have made your decision quite clear. And I respect that, Damen. I will not get in your way. There are times to be a King and there are times to be human. Now I am a King, but know that the part of me that is human -even if it is hard to believe it exists at all- only wishes for your happiness and tranquility. That is all I want. And if that’s what you will have, then I have nothing else to say. I will always care for you and I just need to know that you are alright. Other than that, we will just be Kings. And that is the way for us to be”.

“Are you going to be alright?”

Laurent did not respond. 

He simply stared back at Damen. And Damen did not have it in himself to come up with anything else to say, couldn’t push him or press him to reply, because in reality, he already knew the answer, and he wished he did not. 

Sometimes Damen forgot Laurent was actually still limping, still hurting. He was so good at hiding it and showing it in all the wrong ways. Always had been. 

"This conversation is over", was all Laurent said.

Oh. That upset Damen. Unbidding, unwillingly, it upset Damen in a way he couldn't even begin to explain. How dare he? how fucking dare he? To decide if the conversation was over or not, if he had brought this mess up in the first place. He could not, he could not pretend to have the upper hand when he had literally taken Damen's heart and crushed it. No. If anything, Damen-

Damen wished he could say he had the upper hand. But in all honesty he did not. He never did. Not when it came to Laurent, never when it came to Laurent. 

"It will be over when I say it's over!", Damen replied, asserting a sort of authority he truly was not feeling. 

Laurent seemed unfazed. Always, typical, logical, obvious Laurent. He crossed his arms and stared at Damen, calmly. How could he look so calm when Damen felt like his heart was jumping out of his body? like every breath he took was taking a life of his own? stealing all the air he had left and leaving him empty, lifeless, soulless?

"Do you truly think that will get me to obey?", was all Laurent said. "Damianos, you know me better than that. It has been long, but it has not been that long."

"I-", Damen started and stopped immediately. "I do know you better than that. I do, I think", he whispered. "I- I do not know anymore", he said honestly. "Sometimes I think I do. Then I look at you and I realize that perhaps I never did".

Laurent was quiet for a moment. His nonchalant look was now replaced by a soft curiosity. His voice was just as soft when he replied. "Of course you did, once. However can you doubt that when-".

Damen was holding his breath.

"When I simply could not- would not... You-", he stopped and for the first time in what seemed to Damen like forever, words failed Laurent, "you had broken through every single barrier, everything", was all he said. 

"However was I supposed to know when the next time I saw you, battered and broken, your shoulder bleeding, knowing you had gone through hell, while all I could do was think about you, about Ravenel, you told me you knew all along? Whatever did you expect me to do, Laurent?"

This openness was new. 

It was as if Laurent's confession had made everything easier for Damen, in a twisted way. As if he felt free now to say it all, unbidden. Because he had been there. He was still there, somehow. He would always be there. He was open because, he had come to realize, for the very first time since they had both discovered the other had known everything all along, who they truly were, what Ravenel actually had meant, Laurent was honest and true and so overcome by honesty that Damen found it hard to believe the man he was facing now had been the same man he had lied to, had once told he was his slave. Except that- had he been lying at all?

Laurent's response was calm, tranquil. As if he had been expecting this question for his entire life. As if he had prepared this reply for his entire life. "There were two Laurents fighting inside me. The one who desperately wanted the Akielon. The one who had spent several years hating him. The one who still did. The one who looked down at the other Laurent. Do you want to know which one won?"

"I know which one won. I was the one who woke up alone in that gurney", was Damen's response. Real, blunt, to the point. Bitter, so bitter. He was still angry, he had come to realize. Perhaps he would always be. 

Laurent's laugh was dry when he replied, "you truly underestimate my ability to stand still, my head high, my pride intact, my wit sharp, while the world collapses around me, do you not?"

Damen was shut off, because however the fuck was he supposed to reply to that?

"It is as if you had forgotten that I had survived my uncle-"

No. Damen was not ready for this conversation. 

"As if I had not endured years of codependence only to find abandonment. Yet again. As if I had not had to pretend like it did not hurt, not being enough. Never being enough. Not for him, not to save Auguste, not to-"

"Stop!!!", was all Damen said, helplessly, because Laurent was right, so fucking awfully right.

"So no", Laurent continued, unbothered, "do not underestimate my resilience Damianos, because history has proven I have more of that than I should. History has proven that-", he sighed, "that I can still keep my head high while I'm dying inside".

Damen could not reply to that. Because he simply did not know what the hell to say. Laurent was right. Laurent had been through hell, once. And then he went through hell again. And then he left because his only shot at experiencing real, unbidden, unfiltered love, the kind of love he deserved, the kind of love he always had deserved, was with his brother's killer. How could he react otherwise? how could he pretend- how could he forgive? how could he love? why was he still here?

There was a beat of silence. Then two, then three. Damen was very aware of the quietness. Damen was very aware of his breathing. Was very aware of Laurent's. 

And, indeed, Laurent was the first to break it when he said, "but no one ever said how exhausting, how draining it would be".

Damen remained quiet. He had learnt to appreciate these moments, rare as they were -although, he had to admit, more common than usual in the last couple of days, a sign they were now both adults, he supposed-, when Laurent was simply, unabashedly, himself. 

Yes. That was the Laurent he had fallen in love with. The Laurent he would give everything for. 

The Laurent he still, always, would love. 

Seven years had passed. 

They had changed. 

And yet, his feelings had not. 

Because, he had come to find in the last couple of weeks, he still loved Laurent with every fiber of his being. Ardently and intensely and passionately and painfully and tragically and Damen was so fucking in love with him and his quirks and his loud moments and his quiet moments and his moments of containment and those moments when life seemed unbearable and those moments when life seemed survivable and even enjoyable and when Laurent was rude and unapologetically himself and yet when he was soft and quiet and delicate and sensitive and he realized he held in his hands a treasure, Laurent's vulnerability, always closed and reserved and quiet, exposed for him to dissect, to extract, to do with it as he would. Except- Except he trusted Damen. In the most twisted of ways. Trusted him to expose himself in all of his complexitiest. And his silences and his traumas and his honesty, his authenticity. His hatred and his capacity to love. His heart, his brave heart.

He loved Laurent, he always would. 

But-

He had made an oath.

The thought sent a lump down his throat. 

He sat back down. No traces of the Damen that had demanded for Laurent to be quiet, still, to shut up just mere minutes ago, as if he could ever control Laurent, as if he could ever make him be something he was not. If anything, he had seen through all of his vulnerabilities, through his sensitive side. The non-imposing, the authentic one. He had always seen through him even when Damen had never known he had seen through him. 

Vulnerability, he came to realize, came both ways. He had laid himself bare, in every single way, just as Laurent had. 

They had both stripped themselves naked for their worst enemy, and they both ached for it again. 

Who would have thought?

"You deserved better", was all Damen said. 

And he wished he knew what he meant by that. 

Laurent's laughter was unbelieving and Damen could not blame him for that, but was slightly angry for that. 

"Stop looking at me like that", was all Damen said, and he didn't stop himself, didn't contain himself, what did he have to lose anyway? "stop acting as if you were not the most incredible person alive. Stop doubting yourself. You are the fucking king of Vere. You are carrying your brother's legacy in your shoulders and he would be so proud and I- I regret every single fucking day of my life that I took that from you".

Laurent ignored the last bit as he replied, "if I am the most incredible person alive", a beat, then two, Damen was aching with expectation, Laurent's voice was a whisper as he said, "then why are you marrying her?"

Damen didn't even stop for a second to think about it. His response was quick, unfiltered, so true. "Because I grieved you for too long".

Laurent was quiet after that.

They stared at each other. A breath. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

Quiet. 

 

Only them in the remnants of what they once were. In the remnants of what they never were. 

Laurent, surprisingly, broke the spell once again when he replied, "so did I".

And suddenly, Damen could not take it anymore.

What the actual fuck? How dare he say that? Did he spend endless nights thinking and wondering and remembering and hurting and aching  and wishing and craving and asking the Gods to bring back time just so he could come back to Ravenel? would Laurent ever experience that? Would he even understand it at all? The response was simple for Damen, way too simple, more than he wished. 

He did not.

He would never.

Damen was overcome with anger and frustration and at the same time with so much fucking love and need and something else, everything else. 

He hated Laurent and he loved Laurent and he would give everything for Laurent but not anymore and he had been the only one but he was forced to marry someone else and it was okay. It truly was. He would survive, he supposed.

Damen was regal, controlled, quiet, as he simply said: "You are expected on the main dining hall in an hour. So am I. Until then, King Laurent".

And without saying much,

Or nothing else at all,

He left.

And he turned his back on the awful side of Laurent and the loving side of Laurent and the side of him that ached for Laurent. 

Until then, 

King Laurent.

Notes:

KIND REMINDER that his WILL have a happy ending. There is literally no possible universe in which these two don't end up together. Actually, if you read closely, this chapter has quite some revelations that will move the plot forward. I promise I will finish this little one and try to find the time to take less between updates. In the meantime, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. <3 love you!!