Running Up That Hill

The way of life for Gramarye, Aragos, and a certain fey gentleman who stays over for three or four nights of the week has solidified some. Gramarye is typically off working late into the evenings in her workshop and storefront, but considering Aragos is busy most days in the Temple of Vardama and Alud'rigan tends not to arrive until the afternoons or early evenings anyway, it all more or less works out, as Gramarye is usually coming home after Alud'rigan's made dinner for himself and Aragos. In fact, the war golem has taken to ensuring Aragos has some kind of food, usually procuring fresh produce for cooking and other materials, and keeping them in enchanted boxes: a cold one for food that could be kept fresh, and a frozen one for food that could be frozen for long lengths of time. (Gramarye had done research and came to the conclusion that cooked food, rather than conjured food, was psychologically better for the organic lifeform, and so she took the imperative to keep their pantry and cold boxes stocked.)

Alud'rigan is enjoying himself now as he works in the kitchen of the townhouse, which had once been workshop, storefront, and home all at once for Gramarye's First Father. It has since been converted back into housing, with the workshop moved into Gramarye's storefront in the Market District. Gramarye has remarked there is much more space for domestic activities and comfortable living, although Aragos had moved in after Gramarye finished moving her professional work into her new workshop and storefront. Indeed, Alud'rigan is merrily putting the finishing touches on some kind of pot roast, shredding apart a long-roasted cut of goat meat with his bare hands (washed, of course).

It pays, sometimes, to have talons.

"Go, go, go on, my love Go on quietly and go with peace Open Vardama's door and dwell with her And may you rest with the Harpist's song." <Sildanyari>

He's singing, which is a certain sign of a good mood. Alud'rigan's rather fond of this tune; it's a Sildanyari song for the parting of their mortal love, but for Alud'rigan, a member of the fae, it means more than that.

Aragos enters the house, and he's glad that Alud'rigan is in the kitchen area because he stops for a moment to listen to the song that the other man is singing. Surprised without reason that Alud'rigan is here. Aragos considers taking off his armor and in the end he uses doing so as an excuse to listen to Alud'rigan singing for a little while longer. Then he pats down his hair and his pockets and nervously steps into the kitchen.

Rather than interrupt the singing, the end of the song, he leans against the wall leading into the kitchen watching Alud'rigan with an ache that's settled deep inside his chest. Oddly he can't help but remember Skyler's hand on his shoulder. Telling him that he deserves love. As if Skyler knows.

When the song is over, Aragos leans harder into the wall. "Hey." His voice is deeper than usual, speaking around the harsh pain in his throat. "What you singing that song for?"

Alud'rigan turns around, smiling brightly at Aragos. He's wearing an apron over his usual robes, his feather-cloak hanging on the coatrack over by the door (where it typically lives when he's visiting). "I just like singing it," he says. "It reminds me of my family. There's no finer joy in life than to sing while cooking. Hold on a moment, I need to clean off my hands."

With a murmured word and a bit of magic, his claws are clean again, and then--and only then--does Alud'rigan draw close to Aragos, holding out his arms for an embrace. "Hello, my love," he says. "What's got your voice torn up a bit? Bad day at the Temple?" Sometimes--far too often--children enter the Temple and they only leave as cremains, which Alud'rigan knows can tear up Aragos inside on bad days.

Aragos pushes himself off the wall and moves himself into Alud'rigan's arms. After all, this might be the last time so... He hugs Alud'rigan tightly. Holding him like he doesn't want to let go. Because he doesn't. He doesn't want to mess up the only good thing in his life, and he knows that opening his mouth might do just that.

Finally he pushes away. "Nah. I was on guard rotation today. Didn't even see anyone." Which really doesn't explain why his words come out croaked like he's on the verge of tears. He steps back a step, His eyes meeting Alud'rigan's. "I saw Skyler today. He ah... Mentioned that you liked his tits." Aragos frowns at the memory.

Alud'rigan hugs Aragos back, but he can tell it's a tense hug. Something more than what their embraces usually are, although Aragos does have a clingy side to him that other people never see. He frowns softly as Aragos pushes away and talks still with that wounded voice...

And then Aragos mentions Skyler and his bosom. Alud'rigan flushes in embarrassment. "Oh, my darling, no, it's not what you think--for fear of sounding like a man caught in bed with a paramour and his member in his hands. Skyler had appeared in feminine dress at my granddaughter's house while I happened to be over. Believe it or not, I've dressed in drag in the past--it's rather common among the fae, as we are long-lived and occasionally enjoy a spin on our usual appearances at some point--so I merely complimented him on the craft. It is difficult to create the illusion of a woman's bustline for many men."

He frowns deeply. "I was not flirting with him. At least, I did not intend to, but... mortals do tend to construe my words for flirting when I do not mean anything by it." He'd gathered a collective of adoring aged female admirers when he worked at a bookstore previously in Alexandria this way. "I'm sorry, Aragos. Truly."

"I was pissed." Aragos admits. "I seriously considered slugging Skyler in the face. Maybe busting your ass for good measure, but that's what Telamon said. That you were just complementing the... dressing up I guess." Aragos shuffles his shoulders a bit unhappily.

"Even knowing that I was still pissed. I don't like the idea of you flirting with someone. Or someone thinking you're flirting with them. So I took the long way home. Thinking about why it bothered me so much." Aragos glances down. "I think I figured it out though."

Here's where everything's going to go wrong. Aragos feels his face turn hot. His whole body tensing with preparation of pain. So he talks in a rush of words, not giving Alud'rigan a chance to say anything as he awkwardly gets on one knee. "I figured out that I... I really love you. And I know I'm just a human... that my life is like a blink for you and that I'm pretty much worthless. I drink more than I should. Probably gonna get eaten by some monster well before I turn fifty." He almost laughs there. Fifty. He'll be lucky to crack forty and here he is... What's he doing? He should push Alud'rigan away so as to save both their hearts. "So... marry me."

He shoves his fingers in his pocket and pulls out an adamantine ring. It's burnished dark and he just... holds it in his hand, not even offering it to Alud'rigan. "So people know you're mine."

Alud'rigan's violet eyes are wide in shock as he watches Aragos go down on one knee. He hasn't considered getting married again. But Aragos's earnestness is truth. He's terrible at lying. Alud'rigan has been able to tell in the past when the man has been fibbing to him about going out drinking, and even though Aragos has returned to it, it's not been anywhere to the degree it was before. "Aragos," Alud'rigan says softly, his heart in his eyes as he looks down at the ring in Aragos's hand.

By fae standards, the ring is laughable, but Alud'rigan has never loved by fae standards. His wife was mortal. His children were mortal. All of his grandchildren are mortal. There's a graveyard behind his garden where all of the people he's ever loved are buried, and that is why the Sildanyari song speaks to him so. It's his fervent wish: that all of them rest beyond Vardama's door and rest with her song.

"If only we could swap our places." He reaches for that ring with his claws, intending to take it into his grasp. "If only you could live years and years ahead, if only I could make some sort of deal with the gods--so that you could understand how I love you, that you would never be jealous again..."

His claws rest on the ring, but he doesn't pull them away. Not yet. "If I only could." Alud'rigan's voice is gentle, his grasp is gentle, his words are kind. "I'll marry you," he says. "You and me."

Aragos feels his eyes burning, but the expected pain doesn't come. Instead, amazingly... Alud'rigan says yes. That doesn't hurt him, and it does. It tears him apart in his heart to know he's going to die some day and hurt Alud'rigan. That there's nothing he can do about it but love Alud'rigan now.

"I wouldn't let Vardama take that deal." He says, because he loves Alud'rigan exactly as he is. He bends his head over Alud'rigan's claws and kisses them each softly. He doesn't let the other man take the ring, but rather reverently puts it on the correct finger himself. "Whatever road we take from here, we'll do it together. You and me."

The fae man's eyes are soft things as Aragos kisses his claws. Far too long, Alud'rigan has internalized the thought that his hands were monstrous things, to the point he has taken pains to hide them when out and about in mortal society, and to be exceedingly gently when he does touch his beloved grandchildren--to comfort them, to love them, to be the grandfather that they need. Aragos has rehabilitated his hands somewhat. Alud'rigan's still exceedingly gentle with them, but in their mutual pains, their mutual losses (both having lost spouses and children), Aragos has given love to even this part of them.

"There must be worlds other than this," he says softly, "where you and I have more time. And yet, I don't begrudge living here in this one... loving you here in this one. Taking that road together with you in this one."

Alud'rigan reaches down with his other arm and goes to pull Aragos into his embrace again, planting a kiss onto the other man's lips. Once he lets Aragos have breath again (for Alud'rigan doesn't particularly need it), Alud'rigan says, "How soon should we have the wedding? Who should officiate? Or am I asking too quickly?"

Pulled into a breathless kiss - which is loved and adored - Aragos can only laugh at the bevy of questions. With his arms wrapped around Alud'rigan he plants a second kiss on his lips. "No. Not too quickly." He loves Alud'rigan so much.

"Lets have dinner, and answer all your questions. I don't want your goat to get cold and left to waste. Besides, I'm hungry." It's true, his stomach is growling fiercely, and he releases Alud'rigan to help him set up dinner. But pulls the chair across from his closer instead so they can sit side-by-side as they discuss the details of their wedding.

Something that Aragos never thought he would ever consider again.

-End