The "Why Can't We Be Friends" roadtrip

[presidentheartbeat]

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.

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[risingfalcon]

Spring is Lloyd's favorite season.

It's been his favorite season for years now, synonymous with freedom and beauty, with flowers and the smell of nature, with opening the window of his tiny dorm and letting the realization that his semester at the Knights' Academy is coming to his end flow over him like the breeze. But most of all, it's his favorite season because its arrival brings the knowledge that soon enough, he'll be on his way home, back to Zelos, back to the only person who knows Lloyd as he is. Back to the only reason why Lloyd still sticks around on this awful path his life has taken.

Behind him, he can hear the clanking of armor against armor, the chatter and laughter of his fellow knights-in-training, those called back to the Wilder manor before either their knighthood ceremony or their next semester at the academy. Lloyd's not familiar with any of them past a superficial level, ostracized as he was by most of them because of a reputation he never picked for himself, so he walks alone, a good twenty feet ahead of them, marching past the front gate of the manor. He keeps his expression even, doesn't let his thoughts give anything about him away - for all that he wants to sprint into and through the manor until he finds Zelos and can pull him into a crushing hug, spilling his guts about everything he has planned and what he wants for them both, the last thing Lloyd needs at this moment is to bring any extra attention to himself. Not when everything hinges on his ability to be forgotten.

So he walks at an even pace, keeps things calmed and control. Goes over his battle plans over and over again, recites to himself his father's schedule, and how he'll get the information he needs from the office he can access because of a relationship that hasn't existed in well over four years.

Even then, Lloyd's excitedness is indisputable, wrapping up his body like a snake until it leaves him grinning to himself, glad his fellow knights aren't able to see it and poke at him for answers like sort of animal at a zoo. He thinks of ruby red hair and an amused smirk, of late nights and inside jokes and being young, something he's given so little chance to be. And as he approaches the front gardens, that grin grows into a full beam as he catches Zelos bothering some groundskeeper, their annoyance plain on their face as Zelos talks and talks and talks, shifting ever so slightly, letting Lloyd know that he's anticipating something.

Lloyd's feet move him before he even thinks about it, cutting across the front gardens with that damn smile, ready to greet his best friend with a hug and a laugh, propriety be damned. "Zelos!" He calls out, feeling lighter than he has in months, raising a hand to wave -

Only for his arm to be grasped at with a firm grip and pulled back down to his side. Already, Lloyd feels the wind being knocked out of his sails, smile dropping down into a frown as he turns to face his father. Kratos Aurion stares at him with disapproval, nothing new, and even though Lloyd used to feel hurt by it, the hurts long since been replaced in favor of numbness.

"Lloyd. I'm glad to see you've made it back safely."

"I was just returning from the Academy. It's not like I was sent off to war."

Kratos hums, that part of the conversation over, and then it's back to business. "You called Lord Wilder by his first name. You know better than that."

"My apologies," Lloyd bites out, irritation taking control over his tongue. "I forgot he's above me."

"By the written law, he is." Kratos insists, eyes narrowing to look at his son. "Do not let your training go to waste because you decided to endanger your reputation further."

Lloyd takes in a deep breath and releases it with a scowl. He's not willing to deal with this here, not with witnesses, so he drops it and instead approaches Zelos, walking past Kratos without another glance. Now, he has no choice but to greet him formally, so Lloyd drops into a kneel as soon as he reaches the lord, resting his gloved hands on his knee and hanging his head, mood utterly shot.

To be reminded that their own lives want to pull Zelos and Lloyd apart is not something Lloyd wanted to deal with before he even got to say hello, but it's just his fault for forgetting that this is how it's been, how it has to be for as long as they stay here. For the past four years, they've been forced into their roles, into their formalities and standings, and for all that Lloyd wants to say otherwise, it's not like either of them have been able to break those walls built between them, merely talking through minuscule cracks in the brickwork.

But he can say hello.

"Hello again, Lord Wilder," Lloyd begins, upset that he can't even look at him. "Thank you for allowing me and my fellow knights to stay at the manor once again. We are all appreciative of your kindness."