Birthday Month Fic - #25
Aug. 31st, 2020 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
galadriel1010Prompt: Coming Of Age
Fandom: Shades of Magic (V.E. Schwab)
Pairing: Luc/Rhy
Luc and Rhy talk about the cold, and winter, and finding warmth in difficult times, and cold feet are a useful metaphor for dancing around.
There is a chill in the air over London. Winter is on its way, sneaking in around the edges of doors and under cloaks. Darkness falls earlier each night, bathing the city in the red of the river for longer before the morning crests the horizon. And there’s something deeper even than that. Fear lingers in dark corners, anxious glances linger on the palace, nervous whispers linger in taverns along the docks. That long night clings to the city.
Rhy is on the roof, watching the city disappear into shadow below him again, and for a moment Luc’s breath catches at the memories of that night and his fingers fly to his arm, to his silvered veins. The warmth of his fingers grounds him and he moves forwards, reaches out to offer the same to Rhy. Rhy doesn’t turn, but he does smile and lean forwards, just a little, to rest his palms flat on the rail. His coat is discarded beside him, so Luc catches it up and holds it out. “There’s a bite in the air,” he chides softly. “You’ll get cold.”
“I don’t feel cold.”
“I’ll feel it, when you get into bed and warm your feet on mine.” He glows inside at the grin that lights up Rhy’s face, the highest praise he’s ever had, and shakes the coat again. “At least I’ll know I tried.”
Grumbling obligingly, Rhy allows Luc to help him into the coat. When he turns back to the city he grabs Luc’s hand on the way and tugs him to join him, then tugs him closer until Luc’s arms are wrapped around him under the coat. “You always warm me up,” he murmurs against Luc’s hair, and he’s not sure he was supposed to hear it so he says nothing. “And my feet aren’t that cold.”
That one he simply doesn’t dignify with a response. Rhy heard him yelp the night before and laughed. Ass. Instead he shifts just enough that he can see the city below them. “It’ll be a dark winter. The memories…” He doesn’t need to say it, so he doesn’t. When they can get through a week without one of them being woken by a nightmare, then he’ll feel it’s distant enough to talk about without wanting to scream. Rhy’s hand presses against his back and he takes a deep breath. “We should do something… warm.”
It feels stupid now he’s said it, but Rhy just hums agreement and wraps his arms tight around Luc again. “We should. It’s a shame we can’t announce a pregnancy. Unless Lila…” Luc snorts and Rhy laughs with him. “I thought not. Some sort of celebration, then. Or memorial. Not on the river, not so soon. Throughout the city instead. You can plan it, if you like…” It’s casual, except all the ways it’s not. If he says yes, everyone in the city will know what it means about them and their intentions. It would be a statement of his place at Rhy’s side. Rhy makes another contented noise and rests his head against Luc’s. “We can talk about it in the morning.”
“It’s a good idea,” he agrees quietly, and Rhy goes very still suddenly so he knows they both know what it means. “But definitely after sleep. I’m too tired to weigh my words tonight.”
“Do you need to?”
“Not with you,” Luc scoffs. He lifts his head and pulls back so he can look at Rhy and reassure him with a lopsided grin. “I just don’t want to find I’ve volunteered for more than I thought.”
Rhy laughs again, shaking his head. “Never more than you could manage. You’ve taken everything in your stride. Far better than I have.”
“I am not king,” Luc reminds him. “And my place is one I sought out,” he says, gripping Rhy’s hand tight, “not one that was thrust upon me in the most… horrific way. You’re barely of age, my love, and no one could ask more of you than you’re giving. Cold feet aside.”
“What would I do without you?” he asked fondly. “Please, never make me find out?”
Luc brought Rhy’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of his fingers. “As you command, my king.” Then he leaned in and kissed Rhy’s cheek. “My love.”
Fandom: Shades of Magic (V.E. Schwab)
Pairing: Luc/Rhy
Luc and Rhy talk about the cold, and winter, and finding warmth in difficult times, and cold feet are a useful metaphor for dancing around.
There is a chill in the air over London. Winter is on its way, sneaking in around the edges of doors and under cloaks. Darkness falls earlier each night, bathing the city in the red of the river for longer before the morning crests the horizon. And there’s something deeper even than that. Fear lingers in dark corners, anxious glances linger on the palace, nervous whispers linger in taverns along the docks. That long night clings to the city.
Rhy is on the roof, watching the city disappear into shadow below him again, and for a moment Luc’s breath catches at the memories of that night and his fingers fly to his arm, to his silvered veins. The warmth of his fingers grounds him and he moves forwards, reaches out to offer the same to Rhy. Rhy doesn’t turn, but he does smile and lean forwards, just a little, to rest his palms flat on the rail. His coat is discarded beside him, so Luc catches it up and holds it out. “There’s a bite in the air,” he chides softly. “You’ll get cold.”
“I don’t feel cold.”
“I’ll feel it, when you get into bed and warm your feet on mine.” He glows inside at the grin that lights up Rhy’s face, the highest praise he’s ever had, and shakes the coat again. “At least I’ll know I tried.”
Grumbling obligingly, Rhy allows Luc to help him into the coat. When he turns back to the city he grabs Luc’s hand on the way and tugs him to join him, then tugs him closer until Luc’s arms are wrapped around him under the coat. “You always warm me up,” he murmurs against Luc’s hair, and he’s not sure he was supposed to hear it so he says nothing. “And my feet aren’t that cold.”
That one he simply doesn’t dignify with a response. Rhy heard him yelp the night before and laughed. Ass. Instead he shifts just enough that he can see the city below them. “It’ll be a dark winter. The memories…” He doesn’t need to say it, so he doesn’t. When they can get through a week without one of them being woken by a nightmare, then he’ll feel it’s distant enough to talk about without wanting to scream. Rhy’s hand presses against his back and he takes a deep breath. “We should do something… warm.”
It feels stupid now he’s said it, but Rhy just hums agreement and wraps his arms tight around Luc again. “We should. It’s a shame we can’t announce a pregnancy. Unless Lila…” Luc snorts and Rhy laughs with him. “I thought not. Some sort of celebration, then. Or memorial. Not on the river, not so soon. Throughout the city instead. You can plan it, if you like…” It’s casual, except all the ways it’s not. If he says yes, everyone in the city will know what it means about them and their intentions. It would be a statement of his place at Rhy’s side. Rhy makes another contented noise and rests his head against Luc’s. “We can talk about it in the morning.”
“It’s a good idea,” he agrees quietly, and Rhy goes very still suddenly so he knows they both know what it means. “But definitely after sleep. I’m too tired to weigh my words tonight.”
“Do you need to?”
“Not with you,” Luc scoffs. He lifts his head and pulls back so he can look at Rhy and reassure him with a lopsided grin. “I just don’t want to find I’ve volunteered for more than I thought.”
Rhy laughs again, shaking his head. “Never more than you could manage. You’ve taken everything in your stride. Far better than I have.”
“I am not king,” Luc reminds him. “And my place is one I sought out,” he says, gripping Rhy’s hand tight, “not one that was thrust upon me in the most… horrific way. You’re barely of age, my love, and no one could ask more of you than you’re giving. Cold feet aside.”
“What would I do without you?” he asked fondly. “Please, never make me find out?”
Luc brought Rhy’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of his fingers. “As you command, my king.” Then he leaned in and kissed Rhy’s cheek. “My love.”
