historicals | pc catchall | turboheaven

[ it's the touch that finally works! his brow knits together - he starts, like he startled himself awake, and then blinks at yves.

and what becomes immediately clear is that something is wrong. it's not physical. he's the same as ever, maybe a little thinner. definitely older. but it's his eyes that are the strangest - the dullness to them, like there's just something missing. no spark. no brightness, no curiosity, and most of all, when he smiles it's as gentle as ever, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. ]

...Oh. [ softly. ] Yves...?

That's right, it's me. Are you tired, Taair? Wanna borrow my shoulder?

[ shifting so that they're side by side, and similarly looping an arm around taair's shoulders again to try to encourage him closer as per usual ]

[ he goes! he goes with no fuss at all. it's sort of like moving a doll - he just kind of leans over, leaning into the space but not moving much more beyond as far as yves moved him. apologies for the crown. ]

Tired... I suppose so. [ his head dips again, bobbing slightly. ] ...Would you call me that again?

[ it's fine, he doesn't seem to be bothered by the crown jabbing at him. instead he'll just make sure it doesn't poke out his eye, but otherwise settles for letting taair rest against him... and running his fingers through his hair ]

Taair...?

[ . . . ]

What do you normally go by?

[ there's a soft sigh. with all the weight of the world: ]

Your highness.

... that must be hard.

[ soft, understanding ]

Then... I'll call you Taair as many times as you want. Because you'll always be Taair for me.

Mn.

[ there's no answer on whether it's hard or not - just that wispy, not-quite-there smile, as he exhales out. ]

That person doesn't exist anymore. Not really.

[ wondering: ]

... where did he go? What happened?

[ wow that's a good question. he has no answer though - instead, he just looks up briefly. up this close, yves can likely see the fine sheen of makeup on his face. ]

...Did you know if you keep larks in cages, they won't sing?

... I've never kept birds, personally.

[ so he didn't. he'll keep threading his fingers through taair's hair thoughtfully ]

Was it... a problem? To not sing?

What else is a caged bird good for? If it cannot fly, it can only sing. But if it cannot sing, and it cannot fly, its purpose is only to stand there in a cage, and look lovely for the person who owns it.

[ the smile on his face stays, though he closes his eyes again. ]

I suppose I am good at that.

[

upsetting. he tries not to let it show too much on his face but... this response is... upsetting. ]

... who is it that kept you?

[ haha! yeah! he's still just - completely lacking. it's like something inside of him has died. ]

Ah. Well, I am very lucky. My dear guardian has become my advisor. She ensures I do not overly stress myself. Isn't it nice?

... do you really think it's nice?

[ softly wondering ]

Are you happy?

I exist.

[ so. that's that. ]

And Iria is need of a king.

[ okay. again an upsetting answer but at least yves keeps his expression in check again. his fingers still for only a moment before he continues ]

... do you feel anything, anymore, Taair?

[ or is that not right for a king? ]

[ he turns his head to look at yves again - looks at him for a long moment, like he has to consider the question. and then... there it is, the little smile, this time enough to close his eyes. exhaustion, on a thin face. ]

I try not to. [ feel anything. ] It's better, that way.

[ EVERY ANSWER IS THE MORE UPSETTING THAN THE LAST!!

but there is a moment where yves feels this terribly distinct heartache. it catches him a little off-guard, and he needs to process it before he says something too rash. ]

... I don't think it is. [ softly ] You're a person who deserves to be happy. Who deserves so much more than... any of this.

...that's very kind. Thank you.

[ the weight feels a little heavier, and he dips a bit, head tilting further to the side. eyelids heavy, too. ]

That sort of thing has never been meant for me. [ ... ] I'm very tired, Yves.

[ . . . ]

Anyone would be tired, after what you've gone through.

[ and he'll shift to make it easier for taair to lean on him, his head come up to gently guide his head onto his shoulder ]

But please... don't reject a life of freedom. Of joys and curiosity and the occasional sorrow.

[ don't reject a life of freedom, he says. it would be nice, wouldn't it? just like earlier this week, amid silly debates. what's more important, love or freedom? and taair's answer, with no hesitation, was the latter.

he just makes a soft, sleepy noise, and goes where he is guided. head on his shoulder, he closes his eyes, long hair falling into his face, and takes a slow, deep breath. it takes a beat. one, two.

and then, bit by bit, all those little changes revert, and it's taair as he normally is once more. he blinks as if awakening from a long nap, dazed, and lifts his head. ]

....Yves? [ ??? ]

[ yves watches and - breathes a sigh of relief once taair returns back to himself. taair lifts his head and looks at him with comprehending eyes and a fully emotional expression and—

yves just turns so that he can wrap both his arms around him in a hug and pull him close ]

... hi.

Ah -?

[ ah!!!!! it's not unusual for yves to be affectionate, of course, but this startles him - he'd poof up like a ghibli character if he could. instead, his hands flutter, and he eventually brings them up to gently curl in the back of his clothes. ]

Hello...? [ god his head hurts. ] Are you alright, Yves? What...

[ is he alright? it's hard for him to say. to see taair going through something like that, and getting some sense that it's how things could be... ]

I feel like I should be asking you that but... it's okay if it doesn't make much sense right now.

I just...

[ how does he find the words to articulate what he wants? how much he wants for taair? ]

... Can I ask you for something selfish?

...You can ask me for anything.

[ soft and genuine, a truth - for such a dear friendship, of course, the answer is anything. his hands curl a little tighter, and then one lifts to gently rub between his shoulders. he's distressed, and... the memories of the hazy past twenty minutes or so are starting to filter back, so it's nice, to focus a bit more on the concern for his dear friend. ]

What is it?

pc catchall | turboheaven | yves

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