July Challenge - Day 21

[pf_mod]

From Poem for a Dead Dog

This isn't about resisting,
but about longing

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Fire Emblem: Fates, Xander/Laslow

[kalloway]

The temptation to heft the entire pile of letters into the crackling fire of his study was immense, but Xander held himself in check. It would be an enjoyable and dramatic display however he unfortunately still needed to respond to the entire stack and he was also sure they should be at least temporarily archived until this entire business was sorted.

Xander knew each request was well-meaning, at least in that they were each trying to help with the obvious remaining void in his life; he'd not yet married and an unmarried king was apparently troubling, even in this time of peace. An heir would be required as well, though Xander was well-aware that marriage wasn't necessary for that.

But he'd dismissed the women lingering after his father's demise, even those of noble blood. He'd not even discussed the possibility beyond the room, but--

The letters came. Not just from Nohr, but from Hoshido as well, from Nestra, from the Tribes... Offers of first daughters, of young widows, of first sons...

In the end, Xander knew he'd eventually have to choose one. He'd always known he'd likely have to marry for country over love, but somewhere in the stack was, hopefully, a true companion.

Xander pushed back his chair and stood, stretching before ambling over to stoke the fire.

"I could have done that for you, milord."

"It's fine; I needed to move," Xander replied. As usual, Laslow was with him, this time tucked up on a chair and reading what looked like one of the novels his sisters preferred.

"No luck with--" Laslow gestured to the pile on Xander's desk and Xander couldn't help glowering, though he hoped the flame and shadow helped hide it. It wasn't aimed at Laslow as much as at the task at hand.

"No," Xander finally said. He added a small log to the fire. The night wasn't young, but he wasn't actually tired, either. "And you? That must be quite the story."

Laslow's laugh was almost nervous. But Xander meant what he'd said; Laslow had been reading for hours with only a few motions to stretch and adjust his lantern. Otherwise, it'd just been the soft rustle of pages turning, one after the other, almost comforting in their regularity.

"It's a romance," Laslow admitted as Xander stretched again and went not back to his desk but to a chair near Laslow. "Lady Camilla suggested I read it."

Xander chuckled, unsurprised. "You seem to be enjoying it. Even if they're from an author's pen, I'm glad someone is having a more enjoyable time than I."

Laslow smiled. "Working on it, at least, milord. I've not finished yet, but these sorts of stories do tend to have happy endings."

"Tell me about it so far."

Xander couldn't quite read the look on Laslow's face for a moment; perhaps the book was more scandalous than he'd supposed. But then Laslow nodded and marked his page with a bit of braided silk thread.

"It's about a young lord, a minor noble, whose father has taken ill and is not expected to survive the year. His father wants nothing more than to see him wed, and so the young lord starts looking for a bride."

"I see my sister is having a bit of a laugh at my expense." Xander couldn't blame her, though. He'd already swore to his siblings that he wouldn't use them for political marriages, ever, though it seemed like Leo might manage to marry for both love and country-- "But do go on, Laslow."

"Well, the story is mostly told by the lord's retainer, who is doing his best to help despite being in love with his lord," Laslow continued. "He's... He wants only what's best for his lord, but deep down he's suffering."

Xander blinked. He knew the basic structure of these sorts of novels. If the two viewpoints were lord and retainer, then they'd end up together.

"But you haven't gotten to the twist where they finally admit their feels for each other," Xander surmised. "And what tends to follow."

Laslow's blush was visible even in the firelight.

"Not yet, milord."

Honestly, Xander was going to have to have a few words with Camilla. She was well aware of his feelings for Laslow but he hadn't expected her to hold it over him in such a pointed way. Certainly not while he was dealing with...

Xander glanced back at the letters. He did not want to deal with them. And now he was jealous of two characters in a novel who would at least get their happy ending and not...

"Am I keeping you?"

"Mmm?" Xander realized he'd gotten lost in thought and shook his head. "No, just... envying the ease of resolution a novel offers, I suppose."

He gave Laslow a little smile and wondered if Laslow would have that blush for the rest of the night. Possibly, if he got to the steamy sections of the story. Perhaps he'd need to keep his eye on his retainer.

"It certainly is easier, isn't it?" Laslow said softly.

"I should have that sort of luck," Xander replied before slipping from the chair to head back to his desk. He didn't look at Laslow; he knew full what he'd said and could only hope that when he did glance back, it'd been forgotten and Laslow was again entranced by the words in front of him.

The pile of letters had not decreased, but Xander supposed he could at least sort out the immediate refusals first and go from there. Four sheets in, he glanced back to Laslow.

Laslow was not reading. Instead he was just staring, over the top of the book, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Laslow?"

"Lord Xander?"

"You're free to return to reading, unless you'd rather help me choose a potential spouse." Xander gestured at the largest pile.

"I-- I'm not sure I'd be much help. You know what my luck is with..." Laslow sank down a bit in the chair, pulling his knees up, and still, that blush colored his cheeks.

"Then do continue on with the book, and let me know how our heroes manage to finally convey their feelings," Xander replied. He reached for the next letter, already recognizing the crest on the letterhead. A definite refusal, but he'd read it over again anyway.

"Are you sure?" Laslow questioned softly, his voice wavering. "I could just lend this to you when I finish. I'm sure Lady Camilla wouldn't mind."

"If you'd rather," Xander said after a beat. On to the next letter. He wasn't the one in the novel, after all, and perhaps he'd pushed Laslow a bit too far. It could at least be brushed off as a bit of teasing, of conversation born from stress and the terrible stack of letters. Perhaps it'd be best if he framed it as such-- "I was just enjoying the thought of marrying you and not having to deal with any of this. I'm sure a layabout like you would appreciate the--"

The book hit the floor.

"Please don't joke like that, milord." Laslow was on his feet, the look on his face more unreadable than before. It almost looked like he was going to cry, run, or both. "You should only say things like that if you mean them."

Xander pushed back his chair and crossed the room quicker than he ever had, catching Laslow's hands in his before he'd even quite realized what he was doing. Apparently-- Apparently his feelings were more than one-sided.

"I do mean it," Xander said softly as he pulled Laslow to him. "Though this isn't how..."

"It's okay," Laslow said quickly. Now there were tears, even though he was smiling. "And yes, of course I will. Happily, because..."

The book was forgotten for the evening, the letters ignored.

Both Xander and Laslow were far too busy enjoying their luck.