Zelos Wilder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
presidentheartbeat) wrote2019-09-22 01:44 pm
presidentheartbeat) wrote2019-09-22 01:44 pm
Entry tags:
The "Why Can't We Be Friends" roadtrip
The beginning of spring has always brought with it a surge of life to the manor, with the flowing greenery and blooming of flowers in the gardens, the return of any staff members who needed relocating through the winter, the sudden influx of reports from every corner of the land stacked into neat papers for Zelos to organize and go through.
It's all so boring, though. Zelos leans way back on his seat, holding some random documents in his hands, lazily scanning the pages one by one. Blah blah this, blah blah that. Taxes, trade caravans, territory disputes, bandits, yadda yadda, same old bullshit, same old problems--and that's without counting any of the other requests from the peasantry accumulated since the last stack. He frowns, sighs. Bounces his leg. This is nothing new or too difficult, but definitely stuff that will take a huge chunk of the day just going through. So even with the sun at its peak and the day warmer than it's been in months, already that's a beautiful day gone to waste.
Good grief.
...And alas.
Zelos sets down the stack of papers and gets up from his seat, leaving his desk to look out the windows behind him instead. Greenery, blue skies, singing birds; already so much better than last week. Spring is here, and two things always follow the first rays of sunlight over the land. The first is more and more work as he grows older, more responsibilities stacking over on his shoulders as he continues to adjust to the title of "lord of the land". Zelos groans, stretches his arms over his head. Pops his shoulder. Keeping track of who wants what and where is always such a hassle.
He bites the inside of his cheek. Keeping track of anything is always such a hassle. Zelos never even wanted this in the first place, anyway, but things sure change quickly within barely a few years when everyone is in a panic after their previous lady dies.
Whatever.
Zelos reaches over and opens a window, sticking his head outside and looking at the main road, squinting. The breeze feels good. Staring out the window isn't productive, Zelos knows, but it's not like he can be assed to go back to the boring stack of papers on the desk any time soon when there's already something else in his mind. Because the second thing that happens, every time without fail when spring arrives, is the return of most of his younger knights from the academy next town over. And among them, there's always--
Hm, okay. Zelos bites his lower lip, then abruptly gets back inside and closes the window, rounding the desk to walk over to the door. The stack of papers remains discarded and unattended to on the desk. But Zelos is distracted, and there's no way he can get any work done like that, can he? He should do everything in his power to clear his mind. Maybe he could take a walk outside, then, subtly sticking to the front garden to keep an eye out for any carriages and marches. Just in case.
After all, it's spring. Lloyd could be returning any time now.
It's all so boring, though. Zelos leans way back on his seat, holding some random documents in his hands, lazily scanning the pages one by one. Blah blah this, blah blah that. Taxes, trade caravans, territory disputes, bandits, yadda yadda, same old bullshit, same old problems--and that's without counting any of the other requests from the peasantry accumulated since the last stack. He frowns, sighs. Bounces his leg. This is nothing new or too difficult, but definitely stuff that will take a huge chunk of the day just going through. So even with the sun at its peak and the day warmer than it's been in months, already that's a beautiful day gone to waste.
Good grief.
...And alas.
Zelos sets down the stack of papers and gets up from his seat, leaving his desk to look out the windows behind him instead. Greenery, blue skies, singing birds; already so much better than last week. Spring is here, and two things always follow the first rays of sunlight over the land. The first is more and more work as he grows older, more responsibilities stacking over on his shoulders as he continues to adjust to the title of "lord of the land". Zelos groans, stretches his arms over his head. Pops his shoulder. Keeping track of who wants what and where is always such a hassle.
He bites the inside of his cheek. Keeping track of anything is always such a hassle. Zelos never even wanted this in the first place, anyway, but things sure change quickly within barely a few years when everyone is in a panic after their previous lady dies.
Whatever.
Zelos reaches over and opens a window, sticking his head outside and looking at the main road, squinting. The breeze feels good. Staring out the window isn't productive, Zelos knows, but it's not like he can be assed to go back to the boring stack of papers on the desk any time soon when there's already something else in his mind. Because the second thing that happens, every time without fail when spring arrives, is the return of most of his younger knights from the academy next town over. And among them, there's always--
Hm, okay. Zelos bites his lower lip, then abruptly gets back inside and closes the window, rounding the desk to walk over to the door. The stack of papers remains discarded and unattended to on the desk. But Zelos is distracted, and there's no way he can get any work done like that, can he? He should do everything in his power to clear his mind. Maybe he could take a walk outside, then, subtly sticking to the front garden to keep an eye out for any carriages and marches. Just in case.
After all, it's spring. Lloyd could be returning any time now.
TRUE
Argh, fuck it. He's already come this far, anyway. What's a haircut gonna do other than make him look awful?
Oh, boy. Before he can even think about it anymore, Zelos accepts his fate and huffs, taking the cloak off and letting it fall to the ground, then fixing up his hair behind his back. He moves over to sit on a rock near their campsite, his back to Lloyd. "We gain more if we go through with it," he tries to reason with the knight, with himself. Zelos shrugs. "Besides-- me? Travel in the summer heat with this much hair?" he scoffs. "Yeah, right."
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Moving to stand behind Zelos, Lloyd puts the dagger down. "I dunno how you live with hair this long, anyways," Lloyd says as he begins running his fingers through Zelos' hair, dividing it into sections and tying it back with the strips of twine. Even through three days of traveling, it still feels silky between Lloyd's calloused hands. He tries not to let the urge to play with it distract him, knowing that it'd be unacceptable, even if he used to happily play with Zelos' hair without a second thought. "Just seems like it'd get in the way."
With Zelos' hair sectioned off as evenly as Lloyd could possibly get it, he picks up the dagger again. The problem is, Zelos is still understandably nervous, and for all that Lloyd can't think of what to say, there is no part of him that wants to cut Zelos' hair in silence, not while the man can focus on it. So, placing the dagger to the first section of hair, just beneath the twine...
"At least you'll probably shed less like a dog without as much hair," Lloyd jokes, carefully putting pressure on Zelos' hair with the sharp edge of the dagger.
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And then-- ohhh, Zelos shivers when he feels the dagger cut at his hair, though at least Lloyd's still talking, giving him an out. He stays focused on anything but the sensation, tries to keep his mind busy elsewhere, laughing breathlessly at what the other just said, because-- "Are you calling me a bitch?"
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One section done, he drops the hair that's gathered in his hand to the ground and grabs the next section, readying the dagger again. "Besides, you act way more like a cat, that much is obvious."
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For now, Zelos settles for something noncommittal. "All the grace and poise of a cat are fitting, yes. Thanks for noticing!"
Every time Lloyd cuts another section of hair, Zelos exhales slowly. Well... this isn't so bad, sensation wise. It's fine, really. The only thing that's worrying him is how it'll all look in the end, but, well, they don't really have any way to check that until they get to town. He'll just have to wait it out.
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"All the grace and poise of an alley cat, maybe," Lloyd snarks, though the grin he wears betrays his playfulness. "You would've been friends with Oliver."
And then he pauses for a second, realizing that through his letters, he never really found much of a chance to tell Zelos about his only friend while at the Academy. Oliver was a rough little runt of a cat, one that loved to hang around his empty little dormroom, all torn ears and matted fur. "He was a cat that you could say I adopted when I was still at the Academy. It took me weeks to get him to get close to me, even though I could tell he was curious with how he hung around my dorm window all the time. I bribed him to come near with food scraps," Lloyd explains, huffing a little laugh in remembrance, voice softened with fondness. "Once he got fed, though, it was over. I left my window open and he would just decide to make himself comfortable on my pillow. There were so many mornings where I'd wake up for rollcall and find myself with a mouth full of cat fur. And he always hung out with me when I was in my room in my free time, just keeping me company."
He wonders where Oliver is now. If the next knight-in-training placed in Lloyd's former dorm will treat Oliver with kindness and accept him into the room. After all, Lloyd owes a lot to the feisty cat - without, at least, his friendship, Lloyd doubts he would've kept his sanity.
"You know what, though," Lloyd pulls himself back to reality, finishing up with yet another section of hair, repeating the process once again, and edging the playfulness back into his voice. "I don't think he would have responded as well to you, actually. I heard divas don't do well with other divas."
Whoops
It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He swallows it down when Lloyd starts joking again though, trying to hide it, and forces a chuckle and some levity into his own tone before he responds. "Yeah, I don't think it could've resisted for too long," he says, opting for the easiest way out. "All cats can be bribed with food. You did it yourself, anyway! You should know!"
Restless energy settles in his chest, and the inability to fidget with anything lest he ruin his own haircut starts to grate against his nerves. This sucks. Zelos really wants Lloyd to finish up soon.
goddamn it, we were doing so well
Eventually, Lloyd finishes the job, dropping the last section of hair to the ground, and brushes his hand through the ends of Zelos' new haircut to clean it up a little. He's a little proud, actually - even though the haircut is still choppy, a bit uneven towards the sides, it's hardly noticeable enough to make it look bad. It looks like it's a deliberate choice, even. With that, Lloyd steps back, sheathing the dagger and brushing off stray hairs on the front of his tunic.
"All done!" he says. Lloyd kinda wishes he had a mirror or something for Zelos to see the results with, but it'll have to wait.
SHORT HAIR ICONS BREAKOUT IN THE WRONG THREAD
He's still pretty uncomfortable, but at least the enforced banter during the haircut is done with now, and soon enough they can be back on the road. For appearance's sake, though, Zelos twists on his heel and poses, one hand exaggeratedly gesturing at his hair as he laughs. "Well? How do I look?" he calls out, expectant and yet nervous. "Good enough to fool the authorities?"
MINOR GAY PANIC NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT
It's so unfair, the way Zelos is still able to make Lloyd's heart skip a beat like it did when he was just a kid with a schoolyard crush on his best friend. Augh.
Turning around to grab at his pack, Lloyd makes sure to keep his face otherwise hidden as he packs up the dagger and twine, hating the way his cheeks warm slightly. Who gave him the right to look so good all the time, ugh. "Yeah, yeah!" He replies, waving a hand behind him, keeping his voice light and casual enough to not give away his own embarrasment. "Good enough to fool the authorities. It's definitely a big enough difference to cause confusion."
Just gotta get used to it, Lloyd. You'll be fine. He's just attractive, and soon enough you'll get used to it again. Fuck.
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Lloyd turns back to grab his pack, so Zelos busies himself with grabbing his cloak and getting ready to hit the road again. It already feels weird to not have the bulk of his hair flowing about, following his every movement, and the lack of its weight is downright disconcerting. But, he notes, the soft spring breeze hitting his neck in the heat of the afternoon is a godsend, so he'll make do. And it's not like it's permanent, for crying out loud. It'll grow eventually.
"Well, thanks for the haircut!" Zelos remembers his manners, looking back at Lloyd with a grin. "Now let's get going again. I'd like to find a mirror as soon as possible."
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He can't help himself from glancing at Zelos from time to time, though. To see if he'll talk, if he seems like he's enjoying himself. He's always a foot or two behind Lloyd, and that bothers the ex-knight more than he'd like to admit. Lloyd just wants to talk, just like they used to, but he considers himself lucky if he can get more than a few sentences out of Zelos at a time.
And it continues like this for days. Every day is an exercise in patience, an exercise in trying to crack open the shell Zelos has hidden away in. Sometimes, Zelos will say something, smile in a certain way, and Lloyd will feel hope rise in his chest, something of a dove singing and greeting the morning, only for that hope to be ripped away as soon as he distances himself again, bringing them both back to square one. And eventually, Lloyd loses his motivation to try again and again, conversation starters and jokes left hanging in cold air. Eventually, he begins to wonder, once again, if Zelos truly wants to be here.
But Lloyd keeps trying.
"Say, Zelos," he says one afternoon on their travels, looking ahead and keeping his voice friendly, only half-expecting Zelos to actually give him the time of day. "What would you like to do once we get to Iselia?"
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He's not exactly ready to face the reality of what he's done just yet, but every day it's a little easier to think about the road ahead instead of the road behind. So alright, he's out here in the middle of nowhere after running away from home and responsibility with an ex-knight with a reputation that made his life misery, chasing a fleeting dream of his that he literally only told Zelos about seconds before their departure. This is still insane, and Zelos can't really tell how he's feeling about it, but the further they get from the Wilder manor, the easier it gets to swallow that pill down.
Making conversation with Lloyd is... awkward, after that rocky start. But underneath it, Zelos thinks he's justified in his discomfort: he and Lloyd could hardly even keep a conversation in letters lately, and Lloyd is completely different from the teenager Zelos leaned on when he needed it, and as a result of the chasm between them they've resorted to keeping secrets from one another. Understandable, if frustrating. It makes trying to read Lloyd and adapt to his conversation harder than it should be, because Zelos vehemently refuses to cling to a past that's honestly no longer theirs to claim.
For the most part Zelos keeps to his thoughts, admiring the views and checking the map whenever he can, trying to put himself back together after their horrible start. And he's been resorting to the mask to cope, too, treating Lloyd with the same casual brevity he would any guest at a ball, or whatever.
And Zelos can't say he's happy about that one. The guy broke him out of a life of boredom, for god's sake. The least Zelos could do would be nicer than treating him like any other pest. But how...?
Oh.
When Lloyd asks his question, Zelos is in the middle of beating himself up for being out here again, mind occupied by dark, swirling thoughts of how he's only dragging Lloyd down in his quest for freedom and peace. It startles him, then, and he takes a second to taste the question before answering. Well, what does he want to do in Iselia? What's the one thing he wants from the town? How's he going to spend his freedom?
Cold anxiety grips him tight when Zelos abruptly realizes that he doesn't know.
Because, what the hell is he supposed to do in Iselia? He's been too busy thinking of what he left behind, of what they need to do next, and as such he hasn't given their destination much thought. Zelos, caught red handed, nearly trips on his feet and stops walking. Instead he looks down to the ground as he continues on ahead, frowning and lost in thought.
"I..." it escapes his mouth. The frown deepens. He winds up releasing a sigh after holding the air in for a few seconds, shoulders slumping before he looks back up with a blank mask on, shrugging, dutifully following behind Lloyd. "I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out when I get there."
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The truth is, Lloyd had been hoping Zelos would respond. The truth is, Lloyd had been hoping for something to grab onto, a rock edge to grab in the mess of climbing this towering mountain of trying to fix what's been broken, just like he had been for the better part of almost two weeks now. He had been hoping for a conversation, for talks of dreams and possibilities and something they could both work at achieving. But as it stands, Lloyd's not sure he has the right to ask for Zelos to be anymore attentive or open than he is. It's obvious to Lloyd at this point that Zelos is upset, that the blank faces and masks are just him trying to hide how badly he doesn't want to be here. Lloyd should have never asked him to come, should have never taken him away from the life he lived like he did.
Maybe he should just turn around and take Zelos back.
The silence returns, heavier this time, and Lloyd lets it wash over them. He can't find it in himself to try and break it again, can't find it in himself to risk being brushed off again at this moment. He doesn't know what he could say or do to make this any better, to try and apologize for making Zelos more miserable than he already was. Maybe Lloyd had clung onto the idea of running away, but he shouldn't have chained Zelos to yet another expectation. No wonder Zelos talks to him like he used to talk to people he disliked. Lloyd's eyes water, irritatingly, so he shuts them tight and forces it back. He's not going to cry, not here, not now, not about this. He shouldn't be a baby because things aren't going his way.
"We're coming up on a town," Lloyd says after around half an hour of silence, not bothering to look up from the map. "It'll get dark soon; we should rent a room at an inn."
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Grey clouds gather in the sky as they walk onwards, the temperatures dropping with the coming of rain. It'd be best if they weren't caught out here when it starts raining. So, resting at a town sounds like heaven right now, actually, and Zelos says so. In total silence, he follows behind Lloyd as they enter town, careful and alert, and keeps himself out of any prying eyes by pulling the hood of the cloak up over his head. Haircut or not, he wouldn't wanna risk it now, right?
With travel held at a standstill as it is, Lloyd manages to get them a room faster than it would've been otherwise. He pulls the hood off when they enter and gets to examining the room after setting down their things. Conserving money while passing through towns has been the top priority, so Zelos isn't surprised when their room only has one bed. Uncomfortable, perhaps, but not surprised. It's fine--he can scoot up to the edge if it need be.
Thunder roars outside, the rain finally breaking through and dropping in from above. Zelos walks over to the window to assess the damages, but something in the way catches his eye; a small mirror, dusty and aged, reflecting his ruby red hair in the low light. Short, ruby red hair, that is, looking choppy and uneven and hardly professional, but passable. It really only looks off if you actually focus on it, it seems. For his inexperience Lloyd sure did a pretty good job.
Zelos raises a hand to play with the tips of his bangs, admiring Lloyd's work, and snorts. "Hey, not bad," he says without turning around, but seeking Lloyd's figure in the reflection of the mirror, then tugging at his own bangs when Lloyd looks his way. "The haircut. It's good."
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Zelos' voice cuts into his thoughts, and Lloyd blinks, looking over at him. With a small grin, Lloyd sheathes the dagger again and places it back in his pack, making eye contact with Zelos through the mirror. "I told you I'd be careful," he says, huffing a laugh. "Glad you don't mind it, though. Maybe I'll take up being a hairstylist when we get to Iselia."
Inventory taken and jokes cracked, Lloyd sits on the edge of the bed and falls back with a sigh, enjoying the fact that he's on an actual bed for the first time in a while, empowered by the fact that Zelos spoke up first for once, even if it was only a little. The rain continues on, strengthening as the storm intensifies, but within the small room of this cozy inn it feels more like comfort than anything else. Still, it was definitely a good idea to rent a room for the night.
"Can you believe we're traveling like this?" Lloyd asks aloud, staring up at the ceiling, a nostalgic smile gracing his lips. "We talked about it as kids, but it's real now. It's crazy."
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He turns around and sees Lloyd already claiming the bed, looking up at the ceiling from where he lays. At least someone here is relaxed, Zelos bitterly thinks as he slumps right back into anxious self-doubt. Lloyd's comments are nostalgic, sure, but they keep trying to reach for something that Zelos thinks is better off buried and left behind. They can't do anything about the past anymore, so why bother clinging to it? Zelos has enough on his plate to deal with right now as it is.
Zelos takes a deep breath, then turns around and stares out the window, out at the raging storm that darkens the skies as if it were already night. He takes in Lloyd's words and analyzes them well, trying to pick out a way to go about this at all before his discomfort eats him alive from the inside.
Arms crossed, Zelos finally exhales. "Makes you think, doesn't it," he states, not really a question, merely a thought voiced aloud. "This is real."
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"It's real," he agrees, voice softening as he lifts himself up, placing his hands behind him to support himself. Lloyd wants to say more, offer Zelos some sort of comfort, but Zelos isn't even looking at him. Does he hate being here that much? Or is it possible that Zelos has something he hasn't felt like he could say stuck in his throat? Guilt itches up Lloyd's spine, settling an unfair amount of pressure on his shoulders. All this time spent thinking about him, and he hasn't once thought to ask Zelos about how he felt.
So he fixes that. "Is there... Is there something bothering you, Zelos?"
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Maybe... maybe it's about time he fixes that, then.
"Some of the first few things they tell you to watch out for when you take up lordship," Zelos begins, still looking out the window, "is how the rest of your resources and people are doing at all times. You're supposed to watch out for everything that could go wrong, what is wrong, and how your actions will affect it. Leadership and resource management become second nature for you; and when learning exercises become several lives in your hands, it becomes a responsibility."
This is stupid, but he kind of hopes what he's trying to say will come across without really saying it out loud. What the hell is he supposed to say? Where does he start? How does one even bring up 'I feel like I left all these lands to die, like my purpose in life has been thrown away, and I have no idea what to do with myself now that the one thing I learned to be isn't what I have to be now' anyway?
Honesty was never really his forte, was it?
Another sigh, this one softer than the last. "I suppose old habits die hard," is the half-truth that Zelos says instead of anything else.
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Zelos left behind a lot. People who depended on him, land that needed to be led by him, responsibilities that he was trained his entire life to pick up. Lloyd knew, when he had asked the lord to join him on his escape, that Zelos would be leaving it all behind. But right here, right now, Lloyd can see just how badly the guilt is eating at him, and that causes Lloyd's own guilt to bite at his determination to see this through with Zelos. Maybe he doesn't mind Lloyd as much as Lloyd feared, but it looks like he regrets ever saying yes to this, and the last thing Lloyd wants is for him to suffer because of it.
Licking at dry lips, the ex-knight tries to figure out what to say in the quiet, the rain acting as a steady beat to keep it from being oppressive. There's really nothing he could say to make what Zelos has left behind any easier to shoulder: "they'll be fine," is shallow and vague, and Lloyd knows that without any real successor to the lordship, there's a decent chance they won't be, which pangs at his own heart - (knights are supposed to protect the people with their lives. What kind of person is he that he would throw away that obligation for freedom, instead, innocent lives be damned) - and "you shouldn't have to bear the weight of the world alone" is something Zelos has never responded to well before. Lloyd has no clue as to where to go from here.
But he supposes he could offer Zelos the choice to go back home.
"Would... Would you like to go back to the manor?" Lloyd asks, keeping his voice soft, gentle. It hurts him to think about, as far as they've come, but if Zelos wants to go home, fix what's been hurt by Lloyd's selfish actions, then he won't stop him. He can't go back to the manor with him, knowing he'll be executed as soon as he's caught by any guards, but maybe he can take him back as close to the manor as he can, lead him to a city that's bound to have guards around. "If you say that you killed me and ran, I'm sure they'll take you back without question."
Whoopsie daisy
'If you say that you killed me and ran, I'm sure they'll take you back without question.'
Zelos freezes at that, the rhythm coming to a stop, fingers gripping tightly at the cloth of his shirt's sleeve instead. There's-- Lloyd just--
What the fuck?
A sickening, hot fury begins to boil at the pit of Zelos' gut, something that leaves him breathing harshly as he combats the rising smoke. What does he even begin to unpack here? The fact that Lloyd's willing to give up just like that, after all they've traveled? That out of everything Zelos just said, he chooses to ignore it all, and abandon him? That he missed the point? That he's willing to put Zelos back in the cage he just pulled him out of? Is he fucking serious?
Thoughts swirling in a messy, destructive force like the storm outside, Zelos finally turns to look at Lloyd, glaring daggers and growling under his breath, "Are you fucking kidding me right now, Lloyd?"
everybody knows shits fucked!
Swallowing hard, Lloyd focuses first on keeping calm. He must have said something to piss Zelos off, something to earn the brunt of all of this ire, but the problem is he can't think of what it was. He pushes himself off the bed, faces Zelos best he can though his mind shouts at him that he needs to make himself small, keep quiet, apologize and let Zelos say what he says fit to. "I - Zelos, I don't understand why you're mad at me," he starts, forcing his voice to stay low and even, "I just want to make sure you know you're not stuck with me, that you - that you're happy, y'know?"
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Zelos takes a few harsh breaths, his fury spreading and taking over his whole body, making him shake. He's being irrational, he's not thinking clearly, he's not even listening, but by this point, it's not like he can even control that, either. It's all days of silent self-loathing and doubt, of anxious fear, all bubbling at the surface and exploding after a single thing left him with more fears and doubts than he ever could've wanted.
And that's the problem with Zelos, he knows. Terror becomes anger, anger becomes a knife. The knife sharpens his words and actions, drives him to defend himself like a cornered animal, even from threats that aren't even there. "But I guess that just means you finally saw the light, huh?!" Zelos adds, stepping forward again. "Fuck Lord Wilder, right! Better to ditch him and run for the prize, right?!"
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Stepping back as Zelos moves into his space, Lloyd tries not to let his anxiety get the best of him as he begins to shake a little, swallowing hard and crossing his arms. He forces himself to keep eye contact with Zelos, at least, trying to keep his expression open and controlled, but ultimately failing in the grand scheme of being panicked and upset. This feels wrong, arguing with Zelos like this, like he used to argue with his father, all sharp words and assumptions. "I've tried to talk to you and understand what I can help with, but I can't go off of nothing. And do you really think so lowly of me that you think I'd just ditch you? Why would I bring you with me from the start if all I cared about was some fucking prize? Honestly, Zelos, it's like you fucking hate me!"
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"I don't know, Lloyd! I don't know a goddamn thing!" he shouts again, raising his arms into the air. He tries to ignore how badly the last of Lloyd's words hurt, because-- god, no no no, Lloyd, he doesn't hate you, he could never, he just-- "What you've been doing is treating all of this as some kind of fucking roadtrip instead of focusing on the task at hand! And then you think I'm going to agree to telling everyone that I killed you?! Holy shit, Lloyd, what kind of solution to anything is that!"
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Comes back a thousand years late with Derris Kharbucks, again
oh hun did you get me my frappe