kingkingcxiii | Hugtopia Mailbox/Inbox

[He's well aware of when the door opens, shifting aside for Regis when he settles next to him. The hands on his shoulders are unexpected though and Cor gasps softly at the first press of hands into the hard muscle of his neck. The gasp forces him to release some of the tension, stop clenching his jaw quite so hard.

It's the warmth that comes to his King's hands that has something far more satisfying, if inappropriate, escaping him. A single, shuddering groan and he sinks down against the bed, heavy and exhausted and unable to maintain all those careful walls much longer. Especially not after Will'd spent so much time earlier wiggling under them and making himself at home.

His words are soft, muffled by blankets and his own unwillingness to pull himself up to speak properly with Regis' hands working over his shoulders.]

I'm a godsdamned fool, Reggie...

[Ah, there he goes. It seems talking it will be tonight, which Regis can't say he's disappointed about. His old friend has kept so much from him lately--much of it for his own good, Regis understands that--it is good to finally have him talking about something. Of course, the use of his nickname does cause a little worry to rise in his chest. Cor uses it so rarely.

Despite his worry, Regis continues to let his hands moving over the tense muscles in Cor's neck and shoulders. He could probably do this all night and the man would still have knots.]

You tend to think yourself a fool rather regularly and undeservedly, might I add. What is different about this time?

[He would most certainly still have knots. Especially with how much he tenses up then, burying his face in Regis' pillow to muffle a groan.]

This time my foolishness may well get someone else hurt.

[A sigh this time, turning his head to stare listlessly at the wall. He frowns, brings one hand up to try to force himself to relax how tightly furrowed his brow is.]

Things were far less complicated at home. There was never time for anything... romantic?

[When he feels Cor's muscles tense under his hands, Regis stops his work for a moment and then gives his friend a gentle swat across the back of his head.]

For Astrals sake, relax before I break a finger trying to work out these knots.

[Complaining out of the way, Regis goes back to work trying to undo what has tensed up again. He's focused enough on that task that he almost misses that whispered word. It takes a few seconds for him to process what he's heard, but once he does, his hands still again.]

Did I hear you say 'romantic?' Someone has approached you?

[The swat gets a muffled chuckle but he does his best to try to relax.]

You're the one that decided to start, don't blame me if you hurt your... self...

[A soft gasp as Regis' fingers move over a knot and his breath stutters out. An excuse to not answer Regis right away if nothing else. He presses his face into one of his King's pillows and just groans miserably.]

It would be easier if it was that simple.

[Regis sighs, paying a little extra attention to the knot that got such a strong reaction.]

Things generally are simpler than you make them out to be, but I can't tell if that is the case now because you are tiptoeing around the issue. If it isn't that someone approached you, is it that you wish to approach someone?

[Can it be his solitary friend finally has found someone he is interested in?]

[He's quiet for a long moment after that, letting Regis work on that knot, tension melting out of him under his King's hands. When he does finally speak it's soft, hesitant. Part of him unsure if it's really wise to make such an admission.]

I... kissed Will.

[A frustrated sigh, pressing his face into the pillows again, fully expecting Regis to have plenty to say about just how young their friend is.]

[For a long couple of minutes, Regis says nothing. The only sound is that of his fingers as they continue their work. If Cor could see his face, he would see Regis is grinning because, despite the odd twinge in his chest he can't quite explain, he is truly happy for his friend. But how does he tell him? A joke or a genuine statement of congratulations are both likely to draw a scoff at best from his old friend, especially with how difficult it has been getting him to say even that much.

Finally, he sighs and lets his hands stop working so one can run gently over Cor's head.]

He has been pinning for you for a while and you for him. I am glad you finally acted on it.

[The longer Regis is quiet the more concerned he becomes. He'd expected an immediate laugh or disapproval not... this contemplative silence. When he does finally stop working over his shoulders and let his hand skim over close cropped hair Cor's heart leaps into his throat and for a moment he forgets how to breathe. Is... is this silence disappointment? Or... something...

else?

No. No that's absurd, Cor knows damn well that is foolish wishful thinking and he dismisses it as quickly as it comes, no matter how it makes his heart ache. But Regis is encouraging and gentle and finally he pushes himself up onto his side so he can look up at his King.]

You... are? I'm still not entirely sure this is a wise idea but...

[In the moment he hadn't been able to help himself.]

Love rarely is, my lion.

[Later, Regis will realize he has finally let the nickname he's called Cor so often in his mind slip out, but for now he's too focused on his friend to notice it.]

However much like love, the most significant decisions we make in life rarely are clearly wise or unwise. Were they, we would always pick the safe route and never learn what we are missing out on.

[Now that he's not working on Cor's back any longer, Regis settles onto the other side of the bed, head propped up on his hand.]

And you have much catching up to do, if I do say so myself.

[It takes Cor a moment to catch up with all of what Regis has to say. The moment he lets that endearment leave his lips Cor's heart stutters to a halt in his chest. His next breath is unsteady and he has no idea what traitorous things his face is doing but he knows the doubt and concern that had been there has definitely changed.

my lion

For a moment he almost thinks he might cry and that is absolutely unacceptable. Thankfully he can shift just a little, lean into Regis, hide his face against his King's chest and try to remember what else he'd said. Somehow he has to pick the conversation back up when all he can focus on is how heart stoppingly sweet it was to hear such a thing from the man he's loved for so very long.]

Maybe... unwise is the wrong word.

[The words are soft, hesitant. Uncharacteristically lost. It's tiptoeing so so close to things he's never dared to admit, things that he's kept closely guarded. There's so much he must keep from Regis but the amount of time they have here to just be themselves, to be friends first is making it impossibly more difficult.]

Unfair. I cannot ask of him what I am not free to give in return.

[Unaware as he is that he's let the endearment slip, Regis has no idea what to make of the emotions that flood Cor's face. All he can guess is that the man is warring with what his heart dearly wants and what duty demands he do. This is so typical of him that Regis doesn't even question it when his friend buries his head against his chest. Instead, he just raises his hand and lets it run gently through short-cropped hair giving Cor time to settle himself. Not enough time to come to a decision, but enough time to calm down some. Regis is far too aware of the decision Cor will make on his own, after all. That is why, after a few minutes, he pulls back slightly, hand sliding from his friend's hair to his chin to make him look up at him.]

Cor Leonis, you are the most loyal, giving, selfless and duty-bound man I know. Of anyone, you deserve to have your every heart's desire. I do not wish to, but if I must, I will order you to chase this opportunity with all your heart. Duty doesn't bind you here. I want you to be free.

[Time to settle. But how can he do that with Regis' fingers in his hair, with his King holding him like this. With gentle hands coaxing him into looking up at Regis when he can't trust his control in ways he hasn't had to worry about in 25 years.

Firm, encouraging words about his heart's desire and Cor finally has to close his eyes, jaw clenched, the faintest shimmer of dampness clinging to his lashes. He tips his head, gently pulls away from Regis' hand so he can press his forehead against the younger man's chest. It doesn't matter, none of it matters and he knows that. Aulea has held Regis' heart since they were children and there has never been room for any other. No matter how much he had hoped and hated himself for it.

Slowly he shakes his head, breath coming out unsteady even as he clenches his jaw to fight back the emotions he is not prepared to handle. It's all too much on top of the confusing rush of being with Will earlier. He doesn't deserve either one of them but there's so much of him that aches to have someone after all they've lost.

His fingers curl shakily into the front of Regis' robe, breath coming out in a rush, hot and damp and he can't bear to look at his King, his friend, his world.]

But I can't have you.

Cor...?

[Regis is at a loss, something that doesn't often happen to him. Of course, Cor hardly ever cries either. How is he suppose to react to that? What has he said so wrong when all he has done is encourage him to seek what his heart wishes? He's not sure, but his chest aches to see that dampness on his friend's lashes and he's a heartbeat from wiping it away with his fingers when Cor suddenly presses his head to his chest again.

For a moment, Regis' hand just hangs in the air as he struggles with his own uncertainty. Should he say more? Should he just wait for Cor to speak? How does he...

And then Cor speaks and his words replace one uncertainty with another, one Regis can't completely define before it is buried under an avalanche of feelings. Confusion. Sadness. Happiness. Fear. Understanding. The rush of emotion is so intense that it makes him feel sick and his body begins radiating warmth as it does whenever his emotions are high.

When his hand finally comes to rest on the back of Cor's head, it is shaking with all the emotion he is trying to control; his voice, when he finally speaks is barely there, a tangled emotional whisper.]

Aulea was right then? I don't understand. Why would you when Lucis has demanded so much of you? When my father took so much that wasn't his to take?

[He knows precisely what the surge of warmth means and it makes guilt claw its way up into his throat, stopping anything he could possibly think to say. There's a startled, wet little burst of something close to laughter at the first question.]

Of course she knew.

[He's not surprised at all. The woman was too brilliant for her own good. But the other questions make his heart ache, realizing how much of his self Regis was already sacrificing to the crown. He'd watched it happen but until Aulea passed he hadn't thought it was really there, not this much. Accepting his place as a tool of prophecy wouldn't come for years yet but... this.

Cor finally has to look up, his hand sliding up from Regis' chest to let his fingers ghost over the other man's cheek.]

What Lucis or your father asked of me are not what you have asked. You have always been my closest friend... and you have only once asked me to do something I would not have happily done regardless.

[They haven't talked about it but it's easy enough to figure out. In the future Regis was dead and Cor wasn't. The only reason for that is that he was not there to lay down his life for his King.

He clenches his eyes shut once more, lashes clinging wetly but stubbornly no tears fall. Cor's hand drops to the bed though, his body tensing, clearly readying to pull away unless Regis does something to keep him near.]

I'm sorry.

[Regis wants to argue that someone must still payback the debt that is owed to him, but the objection dies in his throat with his friend's fingers brush over his cheek. His eyes flutter shut at that gentle touch, his heart aching with the turmoil that is rolling inside of him. His mind can far too easily figure out what Cor means, even with the little that he knows of what will be.

I knew. I knew and so I sent him away.

I knew, and I didn't tell him so that he could live.

It would be far too easy for Regis to lose himself in imaginings of what did and didn't happen that day, but the sudden tension in Cor's body and that soft, almost inaudible apology draw him back to reality with a snap. He knows his friend is about to bolt and things shouldn't end like this. Not with so much still unsettled. Not when each beat of his heart hopes and hurts enough it makes it hard for him to breathe.]

Shh... I don't want to hear that.

[His thumb rests gently against Cor's lips for just a moment before he shifts his hand to finally brush at those damp eyelashes. Uncertainty strikes him once more as he looks down at his friend so ready to lock everything away, perhaps permanently this time. Regis can't allow that, can't allow his friend to kill another part of himself when he has already given so much.

Inaction is broken, not by words but the soft brush of lips against lips. Regis lingers only for a moment before shifting so he can rest their foreheads together.]

My heart is larger than you think and you staked a claim in it long ago.

[By the time Regis' thumb settles over his lips, stilling his retreat and his heart with one motion, Cor is trembling. He'd kept it to himself for decades because he knew there was no place for him at Regis' side. His King needed a Marshal, someone he could trust, and Cor couldn't be the clear headed, stone cold soldier if his head and heart were muddled up with something like love.

What need has a tool of the Crown for love?

The gentle brush against his lashes has him swallowing back a sound that could almost be called a whimper and he starts to turn his head, intending to hide his face in the safety of Regis' hand. Before he can though Regis is doing the unthinkable, lips soft against his own and Cor's heart breaks at the sweetness of that kiss, the words that follow. Things he cannot have and does not deserve.

His breath freezes in his chest for a long moment, one hand sliding up to cradle Regis' face as though he might disappear into Cor's dreams like so many times before. Finally he has to breathe, has to gasp in a desperate breath, has to surrender for one moment to the emotions that he can not hold back any longer. He surges forward, pressing a much harder kiss to Regis' lips. Anguish and love and so many years of desperation poured into one single press of lips, the wetness on his lashes finally falling. One traitorous drop before he can wrench himself away, jerking back as though he'd been burned, scrambling to the edge of the bed to give Regis his back while he sucks in ragged breaths, trying so hard to pull everything back in behind his walls.]

We can't. [And the pain in those two words is enough to make his voice crack.]

[What need has a tool of the Crown for love?

What indeed?

But that is the wrong question, isn't it? The wrong question given credence by teachings they have both followed most of their lives, lessons impressed upon them when they were too young to know the damage those lessons were doing to them; one a child whose father expected royal behavior in everything from one too young to know what that was, and the other a child willing to do anything if it proved to the world he deserved a place in it.

The Crown and their tools? They have no need for love. There is no place for such distraction.

But what of Cor and Regis? What of the man whose heart overflows with loyalty and the need to protect? What of the man whose father warned him his very capacity to love would be the death of him if he didn't stomp it out?

It is true the moment that Cor finally loses the battle with his emotions, Regis' heart stops. It is true the moment his friend's lips crash against his that he is frozen and unable to react, but this is Cor and there is only one other person besides his wife that he trusts as completely as he does this young man, now grown, who was so willing to step into his space and tell him he was wrong.

There is pain in this, but the pain comes in the knowledge of just how long Cor had held all of this inside, of how much it has taken for him to get here and of how quickly he draws away because if he lingers longer, the dream will become a nightmare.

The instant Cor begins to pull away, Regis curses himself for not wrapping his arms around his friend and holding him close, holding close that moment of freedom bought at such a high cost. giving him a better memory to look back on when there is nothing else to keep him going.

Because, for as much as Regis wants to deny it, Cor is right.

Regis takes a deep breath and then pulls himself across the bed so he can settle with his side against Cor, his head coming to rest between his shoulders.]

I won't lie to you and say differently, though I suspect the actual reasons we cannot are much different than you believe them to be.

[He reaches around Cor then, seeking his hands to hold, giving him the embrace he should have before.]

I do not deserve this. It interferes with my duty. What right do I...

[The last statement remains unfinished because Regis can't bring himself to finish it. The fact his friend still holds these low opinions of himself after so long makes him angry, mostly at himself for not doing better by him.]

None of that is true. There is only one reason we can't and it is because Aulea is not here. Were she here so we could discuss it, things would be different, but I cannot and will not betray her trust nor will I presume to know her opinion on such a matter even if she did call me a fool for not seeing what she saw.

[For once, it is not the weight of the Ring of the Lucii that is the most noticeable of the rings he wears, but that of the wedding band on his other hand.]

Forgive me.

[He can almost breathe, almost. His heart aches so deeply, a sharp twisting pain like broken glass in his chest. But it is a wound that has ached for years, torn open again and again. After Regis fell, when that connection between them shattered, he'd thought the scars had finally grown deep enough that his heart was numb to the pain.

He'd tried so hard to overcome this.

Then this godforsaken city happened and all the old wounds began bleeding again. He wasn't prepared for this, how could he be? More than that he did not have the same fortitude he had in his youth. There was no way his walls could withstand the sheer vibrance of his King so young and full of hope and love and dreams again. The man that had swept him off his feet without even knowing it and here he was meant to pretend it didn't still affect him.

Just when he thought there was at least a chance that he will be able to pull himself together Regis leans into him, wraps arms around him and he has to suck in a breath once more, holding it tight in his chest before it bursts out of him and shatters all the work he's done. At least the mention of Her Majesty is easier to address than the tangled mess that is his own heart.]

I would never- have never- even thought of betraying Her Majesty like that.

[Not even when the betrayal would be of her memory. No matter how much his heart yearned he would never dream of asking such a thing.]

There's nothing to forgive. I- [It's difficult for him to find the words, to make room for logic when so much of him aches so deeply. His voice is raw and breathless, but he is able to stop himself from succumbing to that pain at least.]

I never meant to tell you.

Obviously. You are far too good of a man to do that. It's just one reason anyone would be blessed to have your love.

[Regis' previous words were not an accusation. Instead, they were a line drawn in the sand, so to speak. One he knew they would likely agree on. One they could hold up to the gods of this place as an example of what they would not be forced to do despite what other things they might be forced into. Is that asking for trouble? Perhaps, but he and Cor have faced a lot of trouble together and he is confident in their ability to withstand the worst, even with this new angle revealed.

[When that breathless statement leaves Cor's lips, Regis can't help but raise his head slightly, his own huffed breath likely tickling the back of Cor's neck. He tightens his arms around Cor unconsciously, a attempt to hide the shaking that is suddenly in them--in fact, in his whole body.]

Of course you weren't going to tell me.

[The tremble in his voice is not from anger, but from the force of the pain and sadness that has hit him in the chest like a boot.]

Y-you'd rather bear the pain of your heart being ripped from your chest every day for the rest of your life than even consider doing something that might burden me. Never mind the fact you will never be a burden to me. Never.

[The rush of breath against the back of his neck makes him shudder and part of him wants to press back into that embrace, savor having Regis hold him like this. But that will not help him retain his control and he fights so hard to maintain it, quiet and still.]

I would not risk doing anything to make the burdens you carry any heavier than they already are. Not when I can remain at your side and help ease their weight.

[Cor's hand comes up to settle over one of Regis', thumb stroking lightly over the back of his King's hand. He lowers his head, looking down even though his back is to Regis.]

That's all I ever wanted... To be ever at your side.

[Regis sighs, letting his head rest back again Cor, forehead pressed to the back of his neck. The answer is so Cor, that Regis isn't surprised at all. In fact, the familiarity helps ease the pain he is feeling a little, just enough his voice is no longer shaking when he speaks again, even if it does crack on a word or two.]

That's not how standing by my side or anyone else's side works, my lion.

[And here, once more the nickname that started this all slips out unbidden.]

We stand together so that we can share each other's burdens not so that one person carries them all for another. You want me to carry extra burdens no more than I want you to carry them, but to not tell me your burdens so to avoid even the risk of burdening me more? If feels as if the person I am standing next to does not trust me, that they are a stranger. I cannot stand the thought of those who I have let close to me being strangers.

[My lion.

It comes so easily to Regis lips it must be something he's thought or said before, something familiar. The thought makes his heart ache, at once wishing it were so and knowing it cannot be any more than he could ask his King to betray their Queen.

As Regis continues, though, the words slide in like a knife in his heart, sharp and painful. The very idea of, that Cor would not trust him and more the implication that he could not trust Cor is enough to make panic claw at his chest. A fresh wash of fear gripping his heart in an icy grip so real that he doesn't even realize the way the temperature plummets, not unlike the way his heart plummets into his belly.

I cannot stand the thought of those who I have let close to me being strangers.

All he can think of is the realization that the traitor they were searching for was none other than Drautos. A man he'd considered very close to a brother, too young but taken under his Majesty's wing and treated as family. And somehow that bond had twisted into something sick, a poison festering so close to the King himself and not one of them realized it until it was too late.

Standing on the edge of the city, realizing too late that the damage was far greater than they could have imagined. That the airships would not be engaged outside the wall but that the Crystal itself was compromised. The sudden, yawning emptiness when Regis fell and he could feel the magic slipping away that constant connection growing weaker until it snapped like the unraveling of a rope under too much strain.

He couldn't breathe, not now, not then. The hurt was too great for there to be room left for anything else. Not air, not love, not life, not the man he had been or was supposed to be. The hand wrapped around Regis' is cold, that sharp agonizing, isolating cold that is so familiar to both of them. Without Regis --and without his trust could he ever consider himself really having him?-- there was nothing but cold and dark, it had been true with Mors and it was doubly so after he fell and here he was telling Cor that this one thing that he had kept so carefully for so long made him a stranger.

Made him like Drautos.

He doesn't know how long he's been holding his breath, as though if he could keep the air inside he could keep the emotions there too. He's shaking, shivering and dark spots dance across his vision, taking too long to make sense of what he's seeing. A bedroom, dim light and not the ravaged street he'd been on when that bond severed.]

I'm sorry

[His mouth moves but no sound comes out, there are no words that could make the apology enough for that kind of betrayal. He blinks, tears falling from damp lashes, falling in a scalding line across chilled skin. When his breath finally returns it's a harsh ragged sob, one desperate breath and then he's clenching his jaw again, swallowing hard, almost convulsively, fighting his body and his emotions in equal measure.]

[This, perhaps, is the real danger of Regis not knowing the future. Not missing a chance to change things, not gaining knowledge he wouldn't have otherwise, but stumbling into emotional minefields he doesn't even know exist. The name Titus Drautos will mean nothing to him for a few years yet, so he has no idea how the man's eventual betrayal will twist a simple explanation into something that has undone Cor so thoroughly.

Even if he doesn't know the 'why' of things, Regis can see and feel the signs that something has gone horribly wrong in Cor's head. The chill that washes over the room is familiar enough that he is gritting his teeth before he even knows it, fighting not to look over his shoulder for the specter that still haunts them both, but cannot actually be there. He doesn't even need to reach for his magic, it rises without being called, countering chill with heat. The warmth rolls off him in waves, but alone it is not enough. Regis knows wherever Cor's mind has taken him will need more than the warmth to lead him back, so he slides off the bed, careful not to let go of Cor's hand until he is standing in front of him. The broken, lost expression that meets his eyes shatters his heart so much that his knees threaten to buckle, leading him to kneeling in front of Cor instead of standing. He reaches out with both hands then, cradling his friend's head in them, gently angling his face so he can meet his eyes.]

Cor, breathe. You're safe here. Come back to me. Come back and grieve. You've done nothing wrong.

[His fingers brush gently at the tears that have fallen to Cor's face. There is so much he's kept to himself. Only a fraction of that is something Regis can guess at, and now Cor is literally crumbling under the pressure. Why? Why won't he just let someone help him?]

Please. Let me carry you for once. Rest calm and heal. I will not let you fall.

[As Regis begins to move Cor has a moment of an even sharper panic, fully expecting the other man to withdraw and his fingers clench tight around Regis' hand. For a moment, anyway. Then his hand goes limp, releasing his King entirely, allowing him to move away without any resistance. That's surely what he wants.

He's so convinced of that fact that it takes him too long to fully register that Regis has not left, that he's here in front of him, kneeling and touching him, voice soothing but commanding all at once. It's so much more than he'd have thought his King would give him, more than he deserves, more than he can endure.

Regis commands that he breathe and he does, the dam breaking and letting his emotions flood out in a way he has not allowed since he was a much younger man, a boy really. The first sob bursts from him like a punch in the gut and then he's fumbling his way forward, collapsing off the bed into a heap, half in Regis' lap. He wraps his arms around the other man, clutches to his robe and sobs into his shoulder, body-wracking sobs that tear out of his chest and ravage his throat.]

I don't... know what to do without you.

[The words are thick with tears and emotion, ragged and desperate. Here there's no army to run, no Prince to guide, no People to save and without those driving goals there's nothing he can do to fight back the agony of loss and betrayal. And to have Regis judge him so harshly for doing his best to protect him, not from any outside threat but from himself is more than he can bear.]

I'm sorry. I'll make it stop just-

[Another wracking sob, hard enough to make him choke for a moment, unable to bring in enough air.]

Let me stay.

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CW: some dissociation

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