makinglies | Circle Opens

He is going to have questions. He's going to have concerns. He's going to want to find a way to help Anders.

For now, all of those things... are unable to quite surface.

He can't even question the claim of safety.

He won't be this out of it every time. Because at some point he'll be able to do something with it. This, even with just Anders presence, is better than anything he's ever experienced.

He curls into Anders. The closeness and, truthfully, Anders' scent, are good. Having a block on his vision and something between him and the door are good. The arousal doesn't damp down but the frantic edge to it does ease - both in him and in Anders' mind.

He gets his mouth on Anders' throat, open and wet and hot.

Then basically gives up and in. Goes into some sort of semi-conscious state that he's in and out of, but at least more relaxed about it. The fragile mental link though? It stays through it all. He needs that extra awareness.

Alaric's mouth on his neck is a distraction at first, but Alaric eases with it and that's enough to ease him as well and, eventually, it's a strange comfort on it's own. Maybe he could blame instincts. For his sanity, he might, and not the thought that a man he'd known a week had somehow worked his way into importance. Maybe it was both.

Alaric was new, exciting, a noble apostate and with such strength while also holding fragility close to him. Anders wanted to see it, he wanted to learn what he knew of a life outside and Anders wanted him not to suffer too much in the one he found himself in now. He would suffer, they all did, it came with the circle, but they could find some peace and happiness too. If allowed.

Alaric's scent dug in him more sharply than even Karl's had, as much as he'd loved the man, Alaric lingered in his senses and thoughts like he belonged there and every part of Anders knew it but couldn't admit it. Still, that didn't mean he had a claim to him, there was trouble to be had in being around Anders, that was clear enough, but as he held Alaric close in those hours, he foolishly indulged in idle thoughts of being here every time to ease the ache. Of maybe one day marking Alaric's neck to keep him close and bound and safe...very idle thoughts. Dangerous ones that made him glad the only mind-reader around was the one barely aware in his arms.

Some time in the middle of the night, Anders' mana failed and the glows he'd been maintaining faded leaving only the candlelight in the room. Alaric was nearly out of it, but had maybe another hour before they'd let him back to his room. He probably shouldn't have been surprised when the door opened and Wynne came in, her hands already glowing and panacea strong to ease her patient the rest of the way through. He doesn't need to see her too sharp and too soft eyes to know he's expected to leave.

Carefully, he disentangles himself, then pauses before fully getting up to lean over and kiss Alaric at the corner of his mouth. He thinks, for a moment, of what safety means to him. A warm hearth with fire popping the log it dances on, gentle humming and a book by the light while the wind whistles it's own tune outside. A feeling of calm in a moment of perfect peace.

Then he pulls away without meeting Wynne's eye and leaves his patient to his proper care. She already knew what he didn't want to: this wasn't different and it would end with one or both of them suffering for being too close. Feelings were dangerous and fragile in the circle.

He left and immediately had a templar at his side, an escort that took him straight to Irving, even exhausted as he was. The templar stayed outside and Anders was sure he was going to get a lecture, but it didn't come. At first. First it was debriefing and an offer of another lyrium potion to keep imbalance from chasing his heels, then clarification that both Alaric and Anders could have a day to recover before being expected at their usual duties. Anders had turned to leave when Irving called him by his name just at the door. His real name, likely only known by the old man by now anyway, and Anders nearly wanted to growl at him for it. An urge he bit back.

It wasn't a lecture ready for him, but a warning. Kindly and grim and entirely unwelcome. 'This didn't happen and it should stay that way, don't get too close, for both of your sakes. It would be best to give the young man some space.'

Perhaps predictably, Anders returns to his own room, sleeps like the dead for a couple hours, and sneaks from his chamber to slip into Alaric's room before the sun can bother to color the horizon more than a pale blue.

Alaric deals with the next couple of hours without complaint - he has enough awareness and is exhausted enough to get through the attention of a more professional healer, though not comfortably.

Truthfully, all he wants is to be left alone and to absolutely not be touched.

Still. He deals. Quietly.

There's enough time after that for him to get cleaned up, to change clothes and to absolutely fail at sleeping. He's not miserable anymore, just achy and wrung out.

He's still awake when Anders comes in, just staring blankly at the ceiling. He can feel the presence, if faintly but only once the door closes again does he even turn to look at Anders.

Then there's a hand held out in silent invitation and one question. The one foremost at his mind: "Are you all right?"

He wasn't expecting Alaric to be awake, but he's instantly relived. Probably easier than being creepy and weird in a corner waiting for him to wake up.

He goes to the bed and after a moment of hesitation, crawls in to wrap around his friend. He should probably put himself against the wall, it would be easier to hide in the darkness and blankets if anyone looked in, but he wanted to offer that security again for as long as he could. Some daylight hours, he would need to be blasé and irreverent and 'psychotic' about everything like was his norm.

"Tired, didn't quite push into mana imbalance, but it was tempting. I'm more worried about you. How do you feel?"

"Tired, but only physically." He wants to protect Anders, but can't quite summon up the energy to move. So instead he works a hand around to the back of Anders' neck and starts transferring energy to him, albeit only magical. He hasn't depleted that, and he wants to help. It's a little sluggish, though. "Did you get into trouble?"

"You've every right to be." Heat was an arduous process, physically and mentally taxing and never easy to watch, even when he's not flooded by the scent. He breathes a small sigh for the energy given to him -not a common skill either, he notes- and wraps a hand around Alaric's arm, though whether to stop or simply hold, he wasn't sure.

"Not quite, though I should've been. I think Irving felt he owed me, I'm sure that's run out now. It doesn't matter...if I helped you even a bit, I would do it again in an instant, even were the Knight Commander in the same room."

Where his hand fell on Alaric's arm, he rubbed slightly with his thumb. "In the course of his usual insipidness, he warned me to stay away and not bother you today. Unfortunately, I'm bad with rules."

Alaric does not know whether the intent is to stop him, or simply to touch him, but he has no intention of stopping and the contact is nice. Meaning the slow energy returned to Anders continues, but he's relaxed and content for the touch.

"It was the most pleasant heat of my life." Meaning Anders helped more than a bit. He's quiet a bit longer, lost in his thoughts and every single thought around the notion that this was dangerous, a bad idea, and that - "I don't think he was insipid. I think he was probably right. I've just no intention of listening to him. There are things that are worth the risk - or even the certainty - of unpleasant consequences."

Alaric seems to lose himself in thoughts and Anders has just little enough shame to let himself study Alaric's face now at peace. He looked like his lips would be soft. Funny how several hours of intimate closeness had the affect of both wanting to be closer and wanting to be cautious all at once. Then again, when had there ever been time for caution in the circle when anything and anyone you cared about might be taken from you in a moment.

"Some things like a moment of peace and a feeling of calm previously only found in open air and the silence of plants? Yes, I'd say that's worth the risk." He let his eyes linger a moment longer, then closed them to take a moment to just feel that peace. "You have the day to yourself tomorrow, you should rest...but also you can do whatever you want."

Tomorrow, or today? His sense of time is all sorts of messed up. In truth it's probably some of both tomorrow and today, depending on when and for how long he sleeps.

He moves his hand slowly away from Anders neck, though the energy flow continues. His hand doesn't go far, just around to brush his thumb along Anders' lower lip, then settle with his palm over the center of Anders' chest.

He can feel his heart beating that way.

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

A smile curled at the corner of his mouth and he opened his eyes to find Alaric's lovely grey ones. "Looking for ideas? Likely what I do every time I have a chance to myself: go to the garden, slip out onto the ledge, maybe read or write. Walk about. Avoid the glaring templars and guilt-tripping lay sisters."

He moved his hand just over Alaric's so his fingers brushed the back of it. "What sorts of things did you do back home? Maybe we can find something close." Not likely, but he wanted to try.

He is suddenly so acutely homesick that it hurts. He's too physically and mentally wrung out to entirely hide the way there's something briefly a little fractured in his eyes, or strained in his smile. Didn't stop his grip on Anders' fingers, brief as it was, being a bit too tight, either.

His answer is truthful, but it is also very...edited.

Edited down to the thing he thinks it's most likely that he will be able to do here - to prevent too much reality encroaching on the moment, he supposes.

"I spent a lot of time in the library." Also a lot of time on a horse, or with a sword. "Why do the sisters guilt trip?"

He can see the shift in Alaric's expression and he's sorry for it almost immediately. 'Don't talk about home' was a popular rule in the circle and for good reason. When he'd arrived and refused to talk to anyone, Karl's approach to make him feel welcome hadn't been to blunder into talking about the homestead Anders had left behind. Unfortunately for Alaric, Anders wasn't as good with people as Karl. He was charming, but his solution to stepping on toes usually involved brighter smiles and fancier words to smooth things over.

He catches Alaric's fingers and laces them together while he puts on a playful smile he doesn't feel but carries with fully practiced confidence. "Well you're in luck, my fine ser, you could drown in the books here and only half of them are dry dusty things. I have a way with some of the cooks, we'll have a breakfast whenever you wake, I'll ask a friend to tend the plants, and we'll spend some time lining your abysmal shelf in here with things that are worth your time. Then I'll bribe more cooks to steal some food away to eat on the eleventh floor when that hall lights up at sunset. With any alterations and substitutions you'd like, of course."

Good news, Anders. Whether the rule is to talk about home or not, people are going to be speculating and probably it's going to come up, anyway, and it's not likely to come up pleasantly or kindly.

He'll handle it.

For now, he isn't going to take the reprieve.

"It's all right." He's also going to reassure Anders, squeeze his hand and make sure they keep holding hands. "I think I might like the dusty, boring, books but we can look into them later."

As cruel and kind as the rumor mill would go, there was no doubt Alaric would face plenty who didn't care to have his feelings in mind when they made their rounds, no one was immune.

Just as he isn't immune to a flicker of surprise and then understanding when he's offered reassurance he didn't voice a need for. He would get used to that, in time.

For now, the playfulness turns more earnest as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "Oh, if you must, but don't say I didn't warn you." The playfulness slips into something softer and he squeezes Alaric's hand. "You should really get some sleep, though. You've revitalized me enough and it's been a bit, I could ease your mind a bit, offer some pleasant dreams?"

"No."

Though realizing he should stop revitalizing Anders', he does that immediately. "I'll sleep - and you should probably go before morning."

He doesn't want to sleep. He doesn't want to sleep because this is some of the most pleasant to exist time he has, but there's a plan and options for food without crowding and he'll manage.

Or he'll fake it, but either way-

He kisses Anders, soft and brief but not hesitant at all. No shyness there.

"In fact you should go now."

He doesn't want Anders in trouble.

Edited 2021-04-10 17:37 (UTC)

Alaric bidding him leave was fine, even expected, but the kiss made it hard. He wanted more of that, the feeling of soft lips and slow exploration in these quiet moments where they could find something close to privacy.

Which is why he should go, it would be far too easy to stay and risk being discovered during the change of the guard.

"Done with me already? Understandable." He doesn't mean it as he slips out of the bed and that feeling of peaceful closeness, but he does lean back over to press another, slower, kiss to Alaric's lips. "Take pleasure in your reprieve, I'll be back before you know it."

There's a certain level of confidence in what he says, the knowledge he could smile and charm and dance the right steps to navigate a situation through charisma. As it's left his mouth and he offers an overdramatic bow, however, he sweeps out of the room without looking back on the off chance the small voice at the back of his mind telling him his presence isn't as welcome to a now-cooler-head is right.

Alaric does manage a couple of hours of sleep after Anders has gone, but not much more than that. He misses the man - the sense of safety and enjoyment of Anders company is dangerous, in and of itself.

When he re-emerges and makes his way toward breakfast he's put together again - down to his hair being neatly tied back.

He goes looking for Anders - and it's early enough to use that extra bit of ability and sixth sense to lead him there.

He's down by the kitchens, not too far from the dining hall itself. He's cleaned up and managed a bit of a doze, his thoughts and feelings too tied up in themselves and his mind fluctuating between taking ten steps back from this feeling growing in him he already knows the shape of and fears, and wanting to run full-tilt to it to keep it close and safe and here this time.

The distraction of putting himself back together so his hair is exactly in place and what kohl he's afforded traces his eyes is nice, it's when he puts on some of his nicer robes that it occurs to him what he'd been aiming for in distraction and a physical step to put his masks and comforts back in place, has accidentally turned into something similar to dressing up for a date. Oh well, he's already here.

When he looks up to see Alaric coming around the corner from where he stands at the doors to the kitchens, it's all worth it and any remaining turmoil over his own foolishness flees. He smiles brightly as he shifts, hip cocking to the side. "Well, you look much more yourself. Lovely. You're just in time, it'll be easier to carry what we can snag if there's more hands."

He wants to say that Anders looks much less himself, albeit attractive, but given how well he realizes his own reasons for being sure his hair is tied back and he looks... put together rather than vulnerable, that would be unkind.

Probably.

"Not a thought that had occurred to me, but true all the same. How much will be convincing and how much will be taking and fleeing?"

"Oh, ninety percent convincing of course, we're only sort of criminals, but anything you snag while the cook's assistants are looking elsewhere will be bonus." He winks and leads them in with a bit of a flourish as they go. His head is held higher, almost imperious, but he moves with a graceful confidence as he sweeps them into the kitchens. There's a small fervor of activity as people cook and chop and prepare food not only for breakfast, but for the rest of the day as well. Anders moves through them towards the center of the room, past boxes of fresh fruit and vegetables and cooling racks of rolls and bran muffins.

Near the center of the room are two people, a human woman and a male elf, one half to his elbows in flour and the other going over a list. "Marena, Kolian, hello and good morning how are my two favorite assistants today? Marena you're looking lovely." Honeyed words and roguish smiles fell on the pair with all the confidence of a man meant to be where he's standing and doing what he's doing, though their twin looks of mixed annoyance and fondness told otherwise.

"Get out, Anders, you're not meant to be here." Kolian scolded from where he was kneading bread, but his expression turned to flushed exasperation when Anders stepped into his space to murmur something quietly to him before turning his attention to the woman who crossed her arms.

"Whatever it is you want, the answer's no, you're trouble and bound to find more for us all if you're not out in the next few minutes."

Anders moved closer to her and took on a perfectly innocent and almost wounded look. "Trouble? Not I, I'm merely trying to show a man a calm and quiet breakfast, surely you could spare a couple plates early. Promise I won't leave them around this time. Please, Marena, we'll be even and you won't have to suffer my flattery again. Until you want to, that is."

Alaric hangs back initially, quiet and watchful.

He knows what Anders is doing. He can even understand why Anders directed it at him. He isn't so sure it's inherently the best tactic to employ, but he understands.

He also sure it isn't the best tactic to use.

Complicated.

He eventually steps forward with a slightly wan smile. "He's trying to be helpful. I'm meant to be resting today and I would rather not eat than face a full dining room. I promise he'll clear up after himself, and if he doesn't or won't I will."

Marena looks between them both, her expression betraying a bit of sympathy that washes under careful indifference quickly after. She turns and gathers two plates that she moves about and with practiced speed fills them both with cooked meats, breads, fruit, and cheese, then finds a small tray to place the plates on along with silk bags of tea leaves and a small pitcher of water with cups to add to it. As she works, she speaks.

"Don't get caught and, if you are, you stole it, you here me? Also warm the water yourself, I've no time to make you your own tea." She turns and puts the tray into Anders' hands and the pitcher into Alaric's, then leans a bit closer to him to mutter: "Watch yourself, noble-born, you could probably find some better company than this. Less of a headache, too. Now, out of my kitchen, both of you."

Anders, who most certainly pretended he didn't hear what she'd muttered to Alaric, winks and smiles to her. "Until next time, fair lady, thank you." Then lead them back out into the hall.

"See? Not so hard."

"No, though I'm not quite certain that you didn't just make it more difficult than necessary." There's no response to what he was told. It isn't a thing he can reply to, but he notes it down and is stubbornly determined not to listen - in part because he was told.

In part because of the noble-born thing.

Which is accurate but...painful and frustrating in turns.

Regardless he has a jug.

"Now let's get out of sight before we are caught and have to make thieves of ourselves." Or, you know, he just does something awful because he's not in the mood to play nice and can.

"I made it more fun." He shot a smirk over Alaric's way, the veneer of collected confidence easing into something less performative and more comfortable as he led them to the lesser used staircase to sneak up.

"You've been here only a short time, soon you'll see that the circle has absolutely everything a man needs to survive: protection, food, shelter, safe beds. It lacks anything a man might need to live, however, minus some break in tedium for study, but even study can be tedious when forced. Your fun and interest and freedom must be taken elsewhere or you really will find yourself melting into psychoses. Some here are able to make a life for themselves they deem happy and healthy, but they're willfully deluded."

He knows he's being hypocritical in saying it when he'd very nearly found a balance that held happiness for himself, something he could have quietly abided by and only kept his derision to darker nights when the walls threatened to suffocate, but that moment of near-peace had been lost and he much preferred to pretend he didn't know what it took to placate him.

"Not that I'm saying flirt with the kitchen staff, only that you'll find some way to entertain yourself as well, you'll have to."

"I am not convinced that what you are doing is entertaining yourself."

Just going to toss that out there, now that they are away from the kitchen and he feels more free to speak - and also now that Anders has made an open claim of that that is.

He is also sure that his freedom is very limited, and knows he will, at some point, have to find something to break the tedium. He just can't quite imagine it right now. In part because he does not hate it here, but also because he is still very much too busy adjusting to get bored.

Trying to adjust.

Maybe he should focus less on that -- but Anders is a good enough diversion and if he doesn't think too hard about what he is going to do, he doesn't have to think too much about what he can't.

"What do you do besides flirt ceaselessly to amuse yourself, then?"

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