CAN YOU KEEP ME CLOSE,
Half of the bed lay empty, and for a long while after Buchanan simply remained there as Liam’s side went cold. He stared at the crumpled lines upon the sheets and wondered just where the hell this life of theirs was taking them. This wasn’t Aklos, and this wasn’t Agnosia. He wondered when he started to long for the warm shores of Irialin, or the comforting valleys of the outside villages. He’d missed Liam, and there was little doubt in Buchanan’s mind that wherever Liam was would be home — but this was a place he was far too unfamiliar with. The inhabitants here were strangers, each face new and leaving him with that tightening coil in the pit of his stomach.
He lacked the natural charisma and charm that Liam could possess. Instead he felt like an awkward bystander to this place, constantly wondering if he truly fit in.
His allegiance wasn’t to these people or this court, but rather to Liam alone. And Buchanan was tired. He could feel an exhaustion settling in that was bone deep. Again Liam had taken up a position as a leader for people that Buchanan hardly knew, and again he found himself remaining by the New-Sovereign’s side.
It was a luxury that he wasn’t sure he liked, or wanted. Hauling himself out of that bed was a chore on it’s own. He felt no need to tidy himself up — the limp strands of his hair remaining as dull and lifeless as ever. He had no attire to adjust, no jewels to perfect. He had no care for such finery, and they would have looked out of place upon him.
He left, his pace sluggish as he tried to remember which way was what. Liam had always been at his side for these strolls, and now he found he couldn’t tell left from right. Except for the commotion.
A furrow crossed his brow as he eyed the growing crowd, carefully finding a place as far back as he could. Retaliation dawned on him then, and he remembered the meeting Liam had spoken about. He was to address the citizens of this Court, reassure them of any questions they might have — do that whole Sovereignly duty. This wasn’t Buchanan’s place — he had no care for politics, but as always he would stand with Liam and support his lover in any way needed.
So as he heard the worried words and concerned whispers, he couldn’t keep the scowl from darkening his face. So many voices seemed to focus singularly upon the soldier Liam had been as though he would rain hellfire and destruction upon them rather than fight for their safety with his last breath. His lip curled, his gaze sharp and critical. No small part of him wanted to approach Liam then, let him know that he wouldn’t be alone in all of this. He remained glued in the background — a diligent eye, instead.
He lacked the natural charisma and charm that Liam could possess. Instead he felt like an awkward bystander to this place, constantly wondering if he truly fit in.
His allegiance wasn’t to these people or this court, but rather to Liam alone. And Buchanan was tired. He could feel an exhaustion settling in that was bone deep. Again Liam had taken up a position as a leader for people that Buchanan hardly knew, and again he found himself remaining by the New-Sovereign’s side.
It was a luxury that he wasn’t sure he liked, or wanted. Hauling himself out of that bed was a chore on it’s own. He felt no need to tidy himself up — the limp strands of his hair remaining as dull and lifeless as ever. He had no attire to adjust, no jewels to perfect. He had no care for such finery, and they would have looked out of place upon him.
He left, his pace sluggish as he tried to remember which way was what. Liam had always been at his side for these strolls, and now he found he couldn’t tell left from right. Except for the commotion.
A furrow crossed his brow as he eyed the growing crowd, carefully finding a place as far back as he could. Retaliation dawned on him then, and he remembered the meeting Liam had spoken about. He was to address the citizens of this Court, reassure them of any questions they might have — do that whole Sovereignly duty. This wasn’t Buchanan’s place — he had no care for politics, but as always he would stand with Liam and support his lover in any way needed.
So as he heard the worried words and concerned whispers, he couldn’t keep the scowl from darkening his face. So many voices seemed to focus singularly upon the soldier Liam had been as though he would rain hellfire and destruction upon them rather than fight for their safety with his last breath. His lip curled, his gaze sharp and critical. No small part of him wanted to approach Liam then, let him know that he wouldn’t be alone in all of this. He remained glued in the background — a diligent eye, instead.
mono | art
