Archive of Our Own

It wasn’t commonplace for a member of the Royal Guard to be sent on a mission that didn’t require guarding a member of the royal family.

However, this instance was a little different. Reports say that, a group of rebels had kidnapped the daughter of a lesser noble family in Gautier and was holding her at ransom while screaming about the injustices of the Kingdom of Faerghus. The leader of said rebels also claimed that they had eyes everywhere and would know if Margrave Gautier made a move and sent his soldiers out and it would cost the girl her life, if he did. As such, the youngest member of the Royal Guard plus a small group of other knights under the royal family were sent to handle the dispute and return the young lady to her family unharmed.

Glenn Fraldarius was annoyed. Of all things to be assigned and sent away for. Some nobleman couldn’t protect his own kid nor was he willing to shell out the funds to get her back so the Margrave could handle the bullshit. And now he had to leave where he was stationed in Fhirdiad and travel all the way to frigid fucking Gautier to save this girl—who, for the record, he didn’t actually blame. It was her father that was the absolute dipshit. From what he had heard, the girl was just a kid, a good handful of years younger than himself.

Somehow, however, the Margrave managed to get his younger son, Sylvain, out of Chateau Gautier and to the town neighboring the one where this incident was still unfolding. Glenn assumes that he had been sent along with the messenger. The message he, personally, received from the Margrave was short, simple, and demeaning.

My son needs some real life battle experience. I trust that whomever His Majesty sends would be capable of handling such a task along with a simple rescue mission.

It makes Glenn scoff to think about. How could that man manage to belittle other people in every damn thing he did? Were the son in question not Sylvain, Glenn’s reply would have been a very simple yet creative way of saying ‘go fuck yourself.’

All the same, he and his small group of knights arrive to the town where they’re set to meet up with Sylvain. Glenn, personally, heads inside the inn and up to the owner, explains the situation as professionally but shortly as possible, and then heads up to the room where Sylvain is staying. He knocks a good few times, more than what would be considered ‘polite.’ But he’s known Sylvain for, like, ever. He doesn’t really care to be polite, in general, let alone with someone he considers a friend.

Ever since his 15th birthday, Sylvain's life has been... hectic. 

His father's been dragging him out of the house—taken him all over Gautier lands to meet with the most influential people, made him sit by his side as he discusses deals and politics with other Lords, and... sent him away as much as possible.

He claimed Sylvain needed all the experience he could get. Dealing with bandits and other similar nuisances was just another part of being Margrave.

When his father had told him of this particular mission over dinner, Sylvain hadn't been surprised to hear that he was going to have to go with.

It wasn't something he looked forward to. He's not a fan of fighting, and he hasn't quite gotten used to the whole... 'ending people's life' part. Which is probably why his father keeps insisting on more. More experience. More fighting.

Still, he figured he'd endure for a couple of days, enjoy his little bit of 'freedom' and then return back to his shithole of a home.

...Until he found out that Glenn was coming, too. That changed everything.

He was excited, now. Eager to see his friend again, to catch up, to show him how strong he's gotten.

In his excitement, he had left the manor as early in the morning as he could, and ended up in the village hours before the knights.

He decided to make the most of his time. 

He gathered as much information as he could (though most of it was already known to him), and spent some time getting to know the locals.

One local in particular.

Her name is Jenny, and she's got long, brown hair, and is two years his senior. They hit it off well, and, figuring that he still has some time to kill, he invites her to his room.

They're about... five minutes or so into their make-out session when there's a knock on his door.

And then several more knocks.

Fearing the worst (an angry brother, perhaps?) Sylvain shushes his companion, and she giggles as he stumbles out of the bed.

He opens the door, just enough to peek his head out.

"... Glenn! You're here!"

Glenn’s eyebrow shoots up as he takes in Sylvain and his slightly disheveled appearance visible within the small opening that the redhead had poked his head through. He absolutely heard the muffled sound of giggles before the door was opened. He pretends that he didn’t.

The young knight’s hands come up to rest on his hips and he taps his foot. “What, did you just wake up? Get yourself together and let’s go. You’re my squire for this mission and I don’t tolerate lollygagging on the job. There will be time to rest and recuperate after the job is done.”

Sylvain's smile only grows. He knows he's being scolded, but... damn, he's missed this.

"Right! One second." He holds up his finger, and then closes the door. Turning back to Jenny, he speaks to her in hushed tones (even though he's certain Glenn had heard her earlier).

"I gotta go, baby, I'm sorry." Her only reply is a sigh, and a pout. "I'll make it up to you. I'll find you again later."

He kisses her cheek, and then kisses her some more, trailing down her neck, until she squeaks out another laughter. 

Sylvain quickly gathers his coat, pulls on his boots, and stops in front of the mirror to adjust his hair and shirt, before opening the door again.

He steps out, and closes it behind him.

"At your service, Sir Glenn."

Glenn hears the other person inside—assumably female—squeak and he promptly rolls his eyes. Oh, boy. Puberty had hit Sylvain, it seems.

When Sylvain steps out, however, Glenn finds that he has to look up just a bit to look Sylvain in the eye. Puberty hit Sylvain hard, apparently. The redhead had a good few centimeters on him, now. Last time that they’d seen each other, Glenn was pretty sure he was the one with the few centimeter height advantage.

Glenn’s eyes narrow and he rotates himself to kick Sylvain in the knee—enough for him to feel it, not enough to actually injure him. “Get the fuck down here, you damn brat. Who fucking told you that you could outgrow your seniors!?”

Likewise, Sylvain is surprised to notice that he's looking down . Surprised... and absolutely delighted.

He grins, but before he could even comment on it—

"OW! Fuck, that hurt!" He rubs at his knee, "It's not my fault you stopped growing!"

Glenn scoffs indignantly before turning on his heel and marching back down the hallway, toward the stairs. He did not stop growing! Cheeky brat. “Come along or I’ll make you walk all the way to the next town.”

And then he’s heading down the stairs without waiting.

Sylvain snickers, belatedly holding his hand up to his mouth to muffle it, before taking a few hurried steps to catch up.

"You're so grumpy! Aren't you glad to see me?" Playfully, he bumps into Glenn's side. "Haven't you ~missed~ me?"

The gesture earns Sylvain half a grin and he bumps him back. “Of course I missed you, even if you are a cheeky brat~”

"... Heh." Sylvain throws his arm over Glenn's shoulders, and pulls him closer as they walk. 

"I've missed you too, buddy! We've got a LOT to talk about! You gotta tell me about all your cool knight adventures!"

The gesture makes Glenn’s nose scrunch up because Sylvain should not be able to just effortlessly toss his arm over his shoulder like that. This kid was going to be fucking tall if he kept growing at this rate.

He snorts, however, at the ‘cool knight adventures’ part. “Sylvain, I’m a fucking babysitter. It’s almost the same shit as before except now with more metal.” He knocks on his own armor to make a point.

“Not that I’m complaining, though.” A sigh. “Prince Dimitri is still cute. That kid’s heart is so soft. I kinda worry about him, honestly.” Glenn had had to sneer at a few market vendors back a few weeks ago when Dimitri had insisted on going to a special pop-up bazaar. People absolutely tried to rip the kid off and sway him with fake sob stories. It had been annoying then, but it brought a fond smile to his lips, now.

“What about you, though? What have you been up to?”

"Aah, adorable little Dima... I miss that guy." He misses them all. The loneliness he feels is a dull ache in his heart that never really goes away. 

"Does he still have the haircut?" He gestures to his own hair, eyebrows raised in amusement.

When the conversation turns to him, though... he looks away, and shrugs. 

"Not much. It's just the same old boring stuff... Father's been talking about possibly sending me to the Officer's Academy in a few years, though. That's something!"

Glenn grins a bit and shakes his head. “Yeah, his hair is still long. Makes him look even younger than he actually is.”

He pulls away to open the door so they can exit the inn. The innkeeper bids them a farewell and Glenn gives a casual wave.

“The Officer’s Academy, huh? Too bad you’re too young to go next year. You’d be able to go with me.” Glenn was kind of excited to get out of Fhirdiad for a while. Sure, he’d be called back for assignments, but it was a chance to just exist outside of being a knight.

"Yeah, I know." Sylvain puts on his coat, as they leave the warmth of the inn. "I'm trying to convince him to send me when the others enroll, at least. Felix is going, right? He's always told me he wants to. He wants to follow in your footsteps so badly, it's adorable."

“Yeah. Fe wants me to go at the same time as him, too. Or to come with me. I’m gonna need to double check my luggage to make sure he doesn’t try to stow away in my trunk.” A sigh.

"Hah! He'll definitely try!" It's so sweet, the relationship between those two, the Fraldarius brothers. Sylvain has always envied them.

"Are you excited to go?"

“It’ll be nice to get out of Fhirdiad, meet some new people.” People his own age. He was always too old to really fit in with the kids or made to act like an adult with the adults, who he still didn’t fit in with. It was lonely, in it’s own way.

"I'm happy for you! I'm sure it'll be great." 

Miklan was supposed to go there, too. A last ditch effort to have him get his act together. But their father eventually ran out of patience, as he often does. He figured Miklan wasn't even worth the effort, or money. It's another thing Miklan claims that Sylvain's taken from him, but he's learned to tune him out. 

"Enjoy the warmth down there while you can!"

Glenn cracks a grin and pats Sylvain on the shoulder in response as they join the other knights that were waiting for them.

“This is Sylvain Gautier, the Margrave’s kid. He’s my squire for this assignment. We’re going to show him the ropes,” he addresses them.

The knights all stand up straighter when Glenn makes his presence known, even though they’re clearly older than him. “Yes, Sir Glenn,” one responds.

Another looks over Sylvain. “Sir, not to speak out of line, but isn’t this boy nearly the same age as yourself? And you’re taking him on as a squire?”

Glenn’s eyebrows twitch in irritation. “Who else here became a knight at the age of fifteen, huh!? You may have more experience than I do, but I’m leagues ahead of where you were when you were my age. I’ll be surpassing you all soon enough.” His eyes and stance demand respect. Glenn carries himself with the grace and authority of a seasoned knight.

The knight that had spoken lowers his head. “My apologies, Sir.”

Glenn huffs a sigh through his nose, releasing his frustration, and launches into their plan to handle the situation, should all be as it was last they received intel. They’d adjust things according to the situation, if need be. Once everything is settled, they set off for the next town to carry out their mission.

Sylvain stands tall and proud as Glenn introduces him, his grin still lingering. When one of the knights gets scolded for his comment, he snorts, then quickly brings his hand up to his mouth, and covers it up with a cough.

Sure, they might be close in age, but the gap in experience between the two is huge. Sylvain is eager to prove himself, both to the knights, his father, and to Glenn.

He stands by his side, intently listening to the plan, offering a few thoughts of his own  (after patiently waiting and politely asking if he could speak, of course. Like a good noble boy.)

Sylvain had set his armor aside earlier, and quickly put that back on, before they depart.

The mission goes according to plan, with a few revisions here and there as the situation calls for it. Glenn handles each situational shift with poise and maturity. The girl is rescued and returned safely to her father and the small camps blocking off the roads were dealt with accordingly.

Glenn and his soldiers spend some time afterwards sweeping the town to make sure that no-one got away or was hiding anywhere. After the roads were cleared, Gautier soldiers took over and took custody of the prisoners and handled cleaning up the rest of the town.

With that taken care of, Glenn takes Sylvain and his knights back over to the town that they had picked Sylvain up in. It’s late in the evening, but they needed something to eat and drink and then to rest before they started their trip home. The next day, Glenn would be personally escorting Sylvain back up to Chateau Gautier—mostly to buy himself more time with his friend—while the other knights started back toward Fhirdiad.

They check into the inn and sit around in the tavern, eating their fill. Glenn has already consumed one small chicken by himself and has started on a second.

Sylvain had watched several men die. A few died by his hand, most of them he had watched fall to the ground from a distance.

His father had told him not to look away. He needs to get used to the sight, looking away is cowardly. 

Especially when he's the one with their blood on his hands. He needs to look those people in the eye, and accept that he's the one who did this. Not regret. Not run away. Accept.

So Sylvain had looked, and watched as the life left their eyes.

He was exhausted.

But, by the time they've returned to town, he's able to smile again. He's seated next to Glenn, enjoying his own dinner, watching some of the other knights...

"Hey," he says, putting his fork down, and turning to face Glenn with a mischievous smile on his lips, "think you could make them buy us drinks, too?"

Glenn is biting into a chicken thigh when Sylvain pipes up with his question. He rips the flesh from the bone and slowly turns his head to look at Sylvain while he chews. He just looks at him until he can swallow his food. Then he leans his elbow on the table and his cheek against his fist. “Hah? I’m not old enough to drink, so what makes you think that I’ll let you drink? Use that brain of yours, Junior.”

"Come on, don't tell me you've never had a drink? I know you're a fan of breaking the rules!" He raises a brow, amused.

"Or has that changed? Are you not interested in having fun anymore, Sir Glenn?"

Glenn turns his head to the side, makes a face as if he just ate something disgusting, and makes a gagging noise. “Man, sorry, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” he deadpans. Sylvain calling him by his title is fucking weird. He huffs out a sharp breath. 

Then he’s looking at Sylvain again. “I have had a drink, on special occasions. This isn’t a special occasion. It’s just a regular mission...” Okay, maybe he’d had a drink or two on occasions outside of special occasions, but Sylvain didn’t need to know that. Glenn could at least try to be a good role model for his younger friends and little brother.

With a roll of his eyes he intends to get back to his food. But he pauses with teeth digging into his next bite of chicken. He pulls back without biting. “Actually... This is your first serious mission, right?” He’s looking back at Sylvain again, eyebrow raised. “How was it? How are you feeling?”

"Booo," he pouts as Glenn continues to eat, with no intention of helping Sylvain get himself a nice drink.

He takes a few more bites, swallowing and wiping his mouth with a napkin before answering. "I mean... I've gone out and helped other people before, but... yeah, I guess this was the first, like, proper mission. Umm... I'm tired. A bit sore." A bit terrified.

Glenn nods. “You did well, though. My only real criticism is... you kind of stare too long, you know? If you look at their faces too long, they’re going to haunt your dreams... Just make sure they’re dead or unable to get up and keep moving...”

"Oh, err... right. I'll keep that in mind, for next time." He looks down at his plate, picking at the few bits left with his fork.

"I just... it's still, you know... new. I need to be able to look at them, without forcing it. Or I'll be a pretty lousy Margrave."

Glenn blinks and shifts to fully face Sylvain, nose scrunching up. “No... you don’t. You don’t need to look at them like that. Just kind of...” He pauses and gestures vaguely to the side with both hands. His eyes look in that direction and then back at Sylvain as he continues, “try and think of them as just another body... Another enemy... not...”

A groan as Glenn scratches at his own head. “Damn, this is so dehumanizing... but you need to try to not think of them as, well, people...” A sigh. Sure, he’d been given this speech before, but repeating it was so uncomfortable. Glenn didn’t like saying things that he didn’t actually believe in, himself.

“Like, yeah, you took a life, but when you just keep thinking of them as people , you give them the power to linger in your head. It gets easier, over time... But it’s fucking weird, no matter what... I hate taking lives, Sylvain, and it’s part of my fucking job. It never stops being weird. You just can’t let it haunt you... So don’t look the corpses in the eyes...”

That... does sound wrong. Sylvain thinks that if he takes another's life, then the least they deserve is an opportunity to haunt him for a bit.

He wants to remember their faces, he wants to never forget how he felt after piercing them with his lance. He doesn't ever want killing to be easy. He doesn't want to be able to hurt people, without a second thought. He doesn't want to end up like...

"... Okay." Then, a small, playful smile, "you know, this conversation would've been easier with some beer."

Glenn grumbles something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like ‘yeah, it would’ but he sighs through his nose and shakes his head and goes back to his chicken. “Have you even had a real drink before or does your old man still let you take sips from his glass at parties?”

"Hey, come on! I'm not a kid anymore. I get my own glass." And he's gotten good at sneaking bottles from their cellar, too. It's all about going for the ones in the back, the ones his father’s forgotten. Cheap ones, that he won't miss.

He's all finished with his meal, and takes a moment to look across the tavern again. 

Then, he spots her. She’s leaning against a wall, and their eyes meet. Ah, right. He'd forgotten. How long had she been staring, waiting for him to notice? Hopefully not too long.

Damn, what was her name again? Something that starts with J…

Jocelyn, Jacqueline, Jennifer... no, no, it was shorter, and simple... Jenny! That's it.

"Hold on, I gotta deal with something real quick. I'll be back." He says, before standing up and making his way over to her.

When he reaches her, he leans over her, the palm of his hand on the wall right by her head, and he whispers sweet words into her ear. Glenn would see her blush, if Sylvain wasn't almost completely hiding her body from his view, his body much bigger and broader.

Glenn doesn’t even get a chance to respond before Sylvain is getting up and making his way over to some girl. Ah, that was probably the girl from before.

“Yeah, okay, I guess I’ll just... wait here...” he says to no one. So much for spending time together and catching up. He shakes his head and focuses on finishing his chicken. His eyes do, occasionally, steal a glance over at Sylvain and his little girlfriend. That kid was growing up a bit too quickly, and not just in height.

They get a bit carried away, as teenagers often do, as they slowly make their way over to a corner. Sylvain kisses down her neck, until she laughs, and stops him with a smack on the back, playfully scolding him for being indecent.

He takes her hand in his, "I'm sorry, babe, I really am... but I'm still technically on duty. See that grumpy guy, over there? He'd get mad if I ran off with you... but I'll find you tomorrow, I promise. Tomorrow morning, before we leave."

She's obviously not too happy about that, and pouts again, like she did that morning... but she's too enamored to really complain, and simply says she'll hold him to his words.

Predictably, Sylvain responds with: "There are other things you could hold." And she once again laughs.

They share another kiss, before Sylvain makes his way back.

He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, hoping her lipstick hadn't left a stain, and settles back down next to Glenn.

"Sorry about that!"

Glenn makes a mildly unimpressed expression, eyebrows going up and then settling back in their usual place. “So you found yourself a cute little girlfriend, huh?”

"Pfft. You're gonna tease me about girls, really?" Sylvain leans forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on the palm of his hand.

"She's not my girlfriend. We met this morning, and we had some fun. We'll meet again tomorrow, and have some more fun. That's it."

“Does she know that? Or is she expecting a letter from you after you leave here and head home?” Glenn’s unimpressed expression stays perfectly in place.

... A pause. Sylvain has to think about that. Maybe sending her letters wouldn't be so bad. She's sweet, funny, and gorgeous. Got a good head on her shoulders, with a confident attitude.

He could see himself really liking this girl.

But there's this.. feeling, deep in his gut. Hard to notice, at first, but it grows the more he thinks about it. It leaves him feeling a bit nauseous.

This feeling... this fear... 

Jenny might not even like him. She might just be after one thing.

"I'll... tell her before I go."

Glenn sighs softly through his nose and nods. “That’s good. You’re a good guy, Sylvain. Don’t leave a trail of broken hearts behind you.”

Sylvain stares at the wall across from the tavern. There are memories pulling at him now, dragging him down, trying to consume him. Arms wrapped around his chest, hands moving down his arms. Sharp nails.

He blinks, "Huh?" Then his mind catches up, "Oh. Yeah, of course."

A good guy... is he really? He smiles, shaking his head, shaking off the feeling of a hand cupping his cheek.

"It's hard, though. I mean, I'm irresistible... the poor girls just can't help but fall for me."

Glenn snorts. “I get the feeling. But I’m pretty sure the girls are more interested in my name than me, as a person.” He shakes his head and sighs. Then he pushes the plate full of bones and a bit of chicken, still, away. He’s lost his appetite. For a moment, he considers trying to get them both a drink. But, ah, he doesn’t want to be a bad influence. Sylvain is older than the younger kids, but he’s still a kid. There’s enough pressure from his father, already, to grow up as quickly as possible. Glenn wants Sylvain to hold onto his childhood for at least a little longer. He can’t enable Sylvain to grow up faster than he should.

“You wanna head up for the night? We can just hang out and catch up.”

Ah, so Glenn can relate... how horrible. Sylvain supposes this is the price they have to pay, for being born into wealth, and status. For being born with crests.

Not that either of them had asked for it.

"That sounds good. I wanna know more about what you've been up to."

“Mm, same here. It’s been a while. I missed seeing that cheeky, troublemaking face of yours~” Glenn shoots him a grin and gets up from his seat.

Sylvain follows, grinning in return, even flashing some teeth. There's the faintest flush of red across his nose, too. He sucks up affection like a sponge.

"I know. Most people do! Let's talk all night. Ah, but... at your age, that might be difficult."

“Oye, brat..!” He kicks Sylvain in the leg. “I’m not that much older than you..!”

Sylvain laughs, stumbling a bit but easily finding his balance again. "Old enough!"

“I hope your bones crack in the morning by the time you’re my age, you little punk~” Glenn chides, but it’s lighthearted. He leads Sylvain to his room.

"Oh, they'll crack, alright. But for a very different reason!" He winks, and then opens his door. It had been left unlocked this morning, so Jenny could leave whenever she'd want to. It's not like he'd left any valuables in here, anyway.

"Welcome, to my humble, temporary abode!"

“Saints, could you go back to being cute and short and prepubescent?” Glenn scrunches his nose up and then sticks his tongue out playfully with a laugh. He tosses off his outer layer of clothing, glad to have discarded his armor in his own room in the inn earlier, and flopped backwards onto the bed. It’s like he’s completely tossed the knight facade away, now. He can just be ‘Glenn’ here.

"Aww, come on! I'm still cute!" He laughs again, as he takes off his coat, and drapes it over the back of a chair.

Walking over to the side of the bed, he leans over and pokes at Glenn, "Make some room, old man."

Glenn shoots him a playful glare. “Make me, brat~”

Sylvain huffs, and shoves at him! "It's MY bed!"

“Yeah, well,” Glenn flops back into place, smug smirk on his face, “I’m confiscating it~”

"...Fine." So Sylvain jumps and lands on top of him.

Glenn yelps but immediately starts laughing as he gets whatever limbs he can around Sylvain and flips them both over so he’s on top.

Oh, no. That wasn't part of the plan. Sylvain practically squeaks , surprised by the sudden change of position, and not to mention by how easily Glenn just flipped them over.

He struggles against Glenn's hold, feeling his cheeks warm up. "H-Hey, come on! That's unfair!"

Glenn smirks wickedly and goes for Sylvain’s wrists, pinning them up above Sylvain’s head. “And that’s my win, Junior~” He gives a confident laugh. “Not bad for an ‘old man,’ huh~?”

How did he do that? How did he manage to restrain him so easily? That's cheating. 

"You're cheating! You used one of your fancy knight moves on me!"

Or maybe Sylvain was just distracted. 

His eyes keep darting back and forth. To Glenn's face, to the wall, to the roof, to the space between their bodies, and then very quickly back to the roof. Goddess, is it hot in this room or is it just him?

Sylvain squirms.

Glenn snorts and rolls his eyes. “This is just roughhousing! I’m not even trying, Sylvain!” Then he’s leaning down closer, into his space. “Unless... this is the best that you can do~” he teases.

Sylvain attempts to sink further into the mattress. It's highly ineffective.

He bites the inside of his cheek, and keeps looking elsewhere—just anywhere else other than at the boy on top of him, but it's hard with how close Glenn's gotten. 

There's an odd feeling in his chest.

... Except no, it's not odd at all. It's just... been a while. Saints damn it all, this again? It's been years. Just when will he get over this silly childhood crush of his.

The feeling, the warmth, spreads downwards, and—oh no. No, no, no. This is NOT happening.

"Ugh, fine! You win! Just let go!" Please let go, please let go, holy shit, let go, he can't deal with this.

“Huuuh~? Giving up so easily~?” Glenn hums in feigned curiosity, still teasing him and showing no sign of moving. “Come on, Syl~ Give me a challenge~”

Stop looking at him like that, stop talking to him like that! Goddess, Sylvain's certain his face is as red as his hair by this point.

"Glenn! Seriously, let go!"

Glenn’s eyes widen when he notices the genuine panic in Sylvain’s expression and words. He immediately releases Sylvain’s wrists and shifts back and away. “Shit... Sorry. I didn’t mean to take it too far...” He kind of glances off to the side and rubs at his own upper arm as guilt starts flooding his chest.

Oh, thank the GODDESS. He's FREE. He immediately scrambles to sit up, and creates some more distance between them. Fuck, that was dangerous.

But Glenn's totally gotten the wrong idea! He doesn't want him to feel bad about it, he didn't do anything wrong, it's just—... it's just Sylvain, and his stupid, weird feelings.

"N-No, you didn't!" He rushes to clear the misunderstanding, stumbling over his words, heart still beating way too fast. "I just—I... I-I really have to pee!"

And with that said, he hurries out of the bed, and across the room. "Sorry, I'll be right back!"

The second he's closed the door behind him, he's banging his head against the wall. Belatedly, he realizes that Glenn probably heard that, and then he's running towards the restroom. This is a fucking disaster.

Glenn just kind of stares as Sylvain makes an excuse and rushes to get away from him. He raises a hand and opens his mouth to try to— to— He’s not actually sure what. Apologize again? Try to ask what was actually wrong? Try to find out what he did that set Sylvain off, so he could avoid it?

But Glenn doesn’t get the chance to say anything. The door closes and then there’s another thud before the sound of feet on the floor disappearing down the hallway.

His expression falls and he brings his legs up to his chest and buries his face in his knees. He must’ve fucked up pretty bad. He doesn’t even remember how to interact with people close to his age, anymore. This is why he has no real friends. Will he even be able to make any at the Academy? Glenn suddenly feels more alone than he has in a while.

He slips off the bed and walks over to where he dropped his jacket and pulls out a small book and a bone quill and tiny vial of ink in the pocket. He takes a seat on the floor and starts writing.

As Sylvain locks himself in the restroom, he thinks about just how much he would like the ground to just, open right up, and swallow him whole. That'd be great right about now.

But first thing's first. He splashes his face with some water, and thinks about the most unattractive thing he could think of: his father in a skimpy outfit. It works.

He feels his body temperature go down, and his mind gets a little clearer. Now he can deal with the... complete fucking mess he just made.

Fuck. He just left Glenn there, with a horrible, weak excuse that Glenn's definitely too smart to believe. But what was he supposed to do? He had to get out. He had to run, and get this situation back under control. 

He couldn't possibly let Glenn see him like this.

He returns to the room, about five or so minutes later, to find Glenn... on the floor. 

"Uuh... hi. Sorry, I..." he has to keep the lie up. The alternative isn't a possibility. 

"I really had to go. You kind of pushed against my bladder. Which is a cheap move, by the way!"

Glenn pauses in whatever he was writing as the door opens and closes the quill inside the book to look up at Sylvain. He listens to Sylvain’s explanation, then inhales deeply and exhales slowly through his nose. He glances away before looking back.

“Has that absolute sorry sack of shit that you’re unfortunately the younger brother of been giving you problems? Do I need to kick his sorry ass when I bring you back to Chateau Gautier? I fucking will. Just say the word.”

Unknowingly, Glenn has completely misinterpreted the anxiety of the situation.

"... Huh?"

The subject change came so out of nowhere, that Sylvain's brain needs a moment to catch up. Just what does Glenn think happened?

"Umm. No more than usual." That is to say, Miklan's always giving him problems. "Why?" He has nothing to do with this.

Glenn looks away again, shoulders hunching in on himself, just a bit. “He better not still be hurting you...” His hands tighten around the book.

He looks to the book, a bit curious, then back up at Glenn, who's now the one refusing to look at him.

A shiver runs up his spine. Why does he feel cold now? What the hell is wrong with his body?

"I'm fine." The words come easy. It's only gotten easier. It's kind of scary.

Glenn sighs and releases the tension in his body. Then he looks back at Sylvain. “I sure fucking hope he’s not hurting you...”

Something still feels off. He can feel it in his gut. He doesn’t like it. And it’s difficult to believe ‘I’m fine’ when it’s not the answer to any of his questions.

Sylvain couldn't exactly say 'he doesn't hurt me'  out loud, because some lies are just... too difficult. And to admit that he does hurt him is even harder. Even now, years later, it's still hard.

"... Umm. You didn't hurt me. What happened earlier, it didn't hurt me."

Silence stretches between them as Glenn searches his face for an indication that he’s lying to spare his feelings. He taps the book against his hand absentmindedly then shakes his head. “I just want you to be okay, Sylvain... I know your family is... like that...”

Sylvain keeps standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Unsure of what to really... do with himself, as he waits for Glenn to say something.

He takes a deep breath. "Yeah. I know. I'm... I'll be okay. I'm tough, y'know? Impossible to get rid of."

“Good.” Glenn finally pushes himself up, setting his book on the desk before walking over to throw his arm around Sylvain’s shoulders and pull him against his side, even if Sylvain is taller. “Don’t let them take away all the wonderful things about you.”

He's frozen stiff for a moment, before he relaxes, and then wraps an arm around Glenn in return. He leans on him a bit. It's nice. 

His throat feels dry, and he's scared that his voice will crack if he tries to respond. So he just nods.

Glenn pulls his arm back and reaches up to ruffle Sylvain’s hair. Then he’s pulling away and taking a seat on the edge of the bed, leaving room for Sylvain, this time. “Let’s catch up, then. What have you been up to?”

There's a quiet sniffle, and then a chuckle, as Sylvain reaches up to fix his hair.

He makes his way over, and sits, facing Glenn. 

"Well... Father's taking me around Gautier. We go on a trip every two weeks, or so, and he shows me all the important places, and introduces me to all the important people. I rarely get the chance to spend the night at a village like this, though, which is a shame. I want to connect with the common folk a bit more. Anyway, it's pretty exhausting... being the heir's tough work." He rubs the back of his neck, he probably shouldn't be complaining to Glenn, of all people.

"And you? I want to hear some stories."

“I mean, if you’re going to be Margrave, he really should let you spend some time with the people. They’re going to be relying on you one day, you know? They should know who you are and what kind of person you are...” Glenn’s nose scrunches up a bit. Sylvain’s father didn’t really care about the people, just keeping them quiet. What an ass. Glenn felt fortunate to have a father who genuinely cared about his men and the people he governed.

“But, yeah, I get it. Being heir is...” A shrug and a distasteful frown. “We’re like birds in cages. We don’t get a choice.”

Oops. That took a dark turn. “Aaaanyway. Stories. Stories. What’s something interesting that I can tell you about~? Hmm~”

He pauses and taps his chin. “Oh, I got to accompany His Majesty to a meeting between Lord Galatea and Lady Daphnel. More land disputes. Ugh, actually, that’s a boring story.” And it had been a boring trip, too, minus being able to play with Ingrid and her brothers for a little bit.

A sigh. “Oh! I got to accompany His Highness when he went hunting. He accidentally snapped a bow in half. That’s a new one.” ‘A new one’ being Dimitri snapping a bow. It was usually lances or swords.

"Yeah, I think so too. Father's just got... different priorities." All that matters is keeping up appearances. The Margrave is slowly telling his son all his secrets, his tricks, and Sylvain likes it less, and less.

Birds in cages... "That sounds about right."

He listens intently, eager. He's sure even the story between Galatea and Daphnel would be interesting, if told by Glenn. He's always had a... different way with words than most. It's amusing, hearing him speak his thoughts so freely.

He laughs, imagining a bewildered Dimitri, always so surprised when things break in his hands. "Some things never change. I bet he apologized profusely for several minutes, too. I miss him."

Glenn makes a rather displeased noise. The Margrave always had different priorities and was incredibly adept at turning a blind eye to things he didn’t want to be bothered with. Glenn kind of wanted to fight him, too. Maybe he would, when he was older.

When Sylvain hones in on the Dimitri story, Glenn is grateful. It’s a lighter conversation topic. Not that Glenn didn’t want to hear about Sylvain’s troubles, but he also only had so much time to spend with Sylvain and he’d prefer if they spent it having fun instead of dwelling on the overwhelming pieces of their lives. It was a warm distraction for both of them. It was nice.

Glenn laughs. “He was on the brink of fucking tears, Syl. Goddess, that kid is cute. I was just like ‘here’s mine.’ And he was all ‘uuuu thank you Glennnn! I won’t let you dowwwn! I’m so sorry!’” Dimitri impression with his voice pitched up, included.

After a long, exhausting day, this was exactly what he needed. Sylvain laughs. Glenn's impression was hilarious, and he laughs, and laughs, and lets himself fall back onto the bed. 

"Aaah, he really hasn't changed! That's adorable!" He says, feeling tenseness (not just from earlier, but from several moons leading up to this point) roll off his body in waves.

"A kid as earnest and kind-hearted as him... He's gonna do great things for this Kingdom."

“For sure~ He’s so full of love. He’s still pretty naive, though, you know? I need to stay by his side to make sure no one takes advantage of him,” he says rather proudly, both of Dimitri, despite his flaws, and of himself and his position. He’s proud to be the person keeping Dimitri safe from people who sought to manipulate or lie to him. “I’m excited to see him grow up and take the throne, one day. But for now, he’s still my Little Lion.”

"Heh. Spoken like a true babysitter." Sylvain grins, and moves his arms under his head to use them as pillows. "You'll have to send him my regards when you next see him."

He lets his head fall to the side, and once again notices the notebook Glenn set aside earlier. Well, since they're basically done with this topic anyway... and he's kinda curious...

"By the way, what's with the notebook? You were writing in it earlier. Is it a journal, or something?"

Glenn sighs and shakes his head. “That’s me. Official Royal Babysitter.” The laughter is still in his voice. But that reminds him that he should probably pick up a souvenir for Dimitri on the way back.

Then Sylvain mentions the notebook and Glenn’s eyes trail over to look at where he placed it on the desk. He lightly chews on his bottom lip while considering how to answer. “Something like that, yeah,” he replies, eyes still fixed on it. It’s a personal item, after all. If Sylvain asked, could he bring himself to share it?

Sylvain looks back at Glenn, noting the body language. It's something he's gotten better at. Maybe he shouldn't push, but... well, Glenn will let him know if he goes too far. He wants to know more. He wants Glenn to tell him.

"... Do you write down your poems in it?"

Glenn tenses up and his cheeks color lightly. He looks back at Sylvain, lips parted slightly and eyebrows raised a bit in surprise. “You remembered that?” But his expression shifts to a sort-of half-grin. He was actually kind of happy that Sylvain remembered. “Yeah... I do.”

His eyes widen a bit in response, and he nods. "Uuh. Y-Yeah, I did."

He's... kind of embarrassed. Is it weird that he remembered? Does Glenn think that's weird? He doesn't want to come off as, like... obsessed or something.

But Glenn's smile eases those worries.

"I, umm... I've wanted to read them, actually. For a while. I mean, since you mentioned them. Only if you don't mind!"

Glenn hums and purses his lips, glancing away, then glancing back. “I suppose... Since it’s you, then I don’t mind sharing.”

A roll of his shoulders before he shifts to get off the bed and take the few steps over to the desk to grab the notebook. Then a few steps back to the bed, where he sits back down in the spot that he had been previously occupying. He shifts a little closer, still, while flipping through the pages to find one that he wants to share with Sylvain.

His wide grin returns as he excitedly sits back up, his cheeks flushing a faint pink at the words. 'Since it's you '... ' since it's you '..!

With his legs crossed, Sylvain waits, looking away from the pages in case there were things Glenn wanted to keep private.

Glenn struggles a bit. These are private and personal. It’s a place where he puts things that he never says and never shows. It makes him nervous. But he settles on one and carefully holds the book out for Sylvain to read.

Where do I begin and end?

I’m searching for nothing at all

And all of my believers call me home

Back from the foggy shore

How long must I play pretend?

I’m living in this light that makes me blind

And my sleeves are soaked past my wrists

So red with all this blood

I’m just reaching for a friend

Sylvain's a quick reader, but he takes his time with this one. Poems are supposed to be enjoyed, after all, and appreciated, like other types of art.

He's always known Glenn's got a special way with words. So different than everyone else he knows. Wonderful in its uniqueness.

That's why, since the first moment he mentioned writing, Sylvain's wanted to read his creations.

And yeah, it's good. It's a beautiful poem. But more than just that, Sylvain resonates with it. Reading this, he feels like he's gotten just a bit closer to Glenn—to understanding him a bit more—and that... that makes him happy. 

"Glenn, it's... it's really good. This is a beautiful poem. I really like it."

Glenn gives an almost shy smile, an unusual expression on his mostly neutral-set face. “Yeah? Do... Do you want to read another..?”

He’s already pulling the notebook back to himself, though, and leafing through the pages. He could definitely find at least one more good one.

"Ah, can I?" His heart's speeding up. Is it loud? It feels like it's loud. They're sitting pretty close, can Glenn hear it? "I'd like that."

Glenn nods, a grin still tugging at the corners of his mouth as his eyes scan the pages while he turns them. He finally settles on another one and holds the book out for Sylvain again.

Little bird in a cage on display

Pretty songs that you sing night and day

Catch their ears and their hearts and their gaze

Sing your song from your perch for their praise

Clip your wings close the door watch you sing

Keep on singing since you can’t do a thing

But sit pretty like you don’t have a soul

Not a heart not some lungs nor a goal

Sing your song because there’s nothing else to do

Let their praise replace your dreams of skies of blue

It's wonderful, seeing Glenn like this. Sylvain can't help feeling a little bit proud, and... a little bit honored. Special. 

It's the caged bird imagery again, and he can already see a recurring theme. Being trapped. Putting on a mask. Behaving the way people expect you to.

Again, the fact that Glenn is sharing this with him, something so personal... It means a lot. 

"You're really good... this, umm... it makes me feel a lot. Poems are supposed to do that, evoke feelings, so... yeah."

“Mm, yeah. I don’t exactly show anyone these, though... They’re just...” His emotions. They’re his emotions. The ones he doesn’t show; doesn’t dare to show. It’s a vulnerability.

But this is Sylvain. And Sylvain has expressed similar notions, in the past. They both carry the same burden, after all. So Sylvain won’t take advantage of these vulnerabilities. Glenn can trust that.

“They’re just personal thoughts, you know?” A small shrug. “I’m glad, though, that you feel something, too, when you read them. At least they mean something to someone.”

"I'm glad you showed me," Sylvain says, meeting Glenn's eyes, an honest smile on his face. 

He nods, and looks down at the page again, tracing the written lines with a finger. Treating them with care. 

"It seems like a good way to get them out... make something nice out of them."

“It’s like... either that or I just hold them inside me... And they get tumbled around inside my brain until the jagged edges are smooth.” Glenn shakes his head and sighs. “But the weathering process is so long and daunting... Those points and edges catch on something every so often, and it stings again.”

Glenn allows himself to slowly lie back on the bed. “Who wants thoughts rolling around their head until they’re smooth, anyway? So... I just write them down.”

He hums in acknowledgement. It sounds good... it sounds like something maybe he should be doing, too.

But then he recalls the diary he started writing in a few years ago, and how Miklan had laughed and burned it when he'd found it; how he'd used whatever few honest feelings Sylvain had managed to write down against him. No, it wouldn't work. He'll have to keep these sharp-edged thoughts to himself, and hope that they'll one day go smooth, like Glenn's saying they should.

"I'm glad you've found something that works. If you ever want to share some more, I'd really enjoy reading them."

“Well, we’re going to keep exchanging letters once I start at Garreg Mach, right?” He turns his head to the side to look at Sylvain. “Maybe I’ll include a poem, sometimes.”

Then Glenn yawns and stretches his arms above his head, making his shirt ride up enough to expose a small strip of skin on his stomach above the waist of his pants. Glenn lets his arms just flop above his head and half off the bed, so everything just stays where it is. “Mm, once I graduate, we should go back to the watchtower and celebrate. Maybe I’ll actually sneak us some alcohol, too~” A grin.

"That'd be great! I'm looking forward to it." 

Sylvain's about to make fun of him for yawning already, after all, the night's still young—but his gaze lands on the little bit of exposed skin, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

Yeah, there's muscles there. Definitely a nice toned stomach. He can imagine it, barely, if only he could see a bit more—and let's end that thought right there! He really doesn't want a repeat of the disaster that happened earlier. 

Stupid puberty.

He looks away, gently closing the book again and setting it down on the nearby nightstand.

"Aah, so now you want to have fun. Y'know, it's not too late to go back down and get us something." He laughs, knowing it's futile. "But seriously, I like the sound of that. I haven't been up there since you last showed me."

Glenn just blows a raspberry, tongue poking out of his mouth. “I’d really rather our trip back to see your ever-pleasant family be without a hangover... Your father gives me enough of a headache without the after effects of alcohol in my system~”

He shoots Sylvain another grin. “I haven’t brought anyone else there, so it’s like... our secret spot. Maybe one day, when they’re older, we can talk Mitya and Fe. But for now, we can just keep it as ours.”

He snorts as he settles back down, facing Glenn but keeping his eyes very pointedly on his face. 

He definitely gets where he's coming from. 

"As someone who has had to deal with him, with a hangover, I can tell you that it is definitely as bad as you think." Bringing his knees up, he rests his chin on them, arms  wrapped around his legs.

"Still..?" Glenn's really making this hard for him. There's no way he'll ever be able to get over this, if he keeps making him feel like this. 

"Umm... thanks. Even when you show others, it'll... It'll still be special to me. Our special place. It meant a lot. What you did."

“Yeah, that place means a lot to me. But I’m glad that I shared it with you. And my poems. It’s nice.” Less lonely. He feels like they’ve bonded over it, at least a little bit.

“Do me a favor, though, Syl. Lay off the alcohol. You’re fifteen. Be a kid. Don’t try to be an adult, yet.”

Sylvain nods, feeling so much... just, so much , that he might explode. He thinks that maybe, maybe he could, reach out. Touch him, tell him, or just try to convey something, anything, maybe—

"Huh?" Be... a kid. Why would he want that? Kids are annoying, troublesome, and they don't understand how life works at all. He doesn't want to be a kid, and especially not a kid in Glenn's eyes. Why can't he see how much he's grown?

"Hey, come on. Sure, I'm not an adult but I'm not a kid, either." He's grown. He has! Everyone keeps telling him! Everyone tells him he's not a kid anymore, so why does Glenn say the opposite?

"You don't have to babysit me . I don't even drink that much! It's just for fun!"

A troubled look passes through Glenn’s eyes and his nose scrunches as his eyes shift and head tilts back and forth just a bit while he considers his words. “I don’t mean it like that, Syl... Just... like... enjoy your youth... Don’t grow up too quickly...”

Sylvain frowns, eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I don't understand. I'm not a kid anymore," he repeats, because apparently Glenn doesn't get it . 

"I can't just... go back. I have things to do, stuff to learn."

Ugh. This isn’t working. He doesn’t even know how to communicate it. He didn’t have a normal upbringing, either. What would people their age normally do?

“Of course you can’t go back. But you can still enjoy being fifteen. Find some people your age and play some games or something, you know?” A stupid question, really. Glenn didn’t even know. And the Margrave didn’t exactly seem like the type of father to give his son any room to make friends. Great.

Glenn sits up and rubs his face. “Just... do fun stuff. Don’t take everything so seriously. And don’t try to act like all the adults around you all the time...”

There's nothing to enjoy about being fifteen. He doesn't have any friends his age, the only friends he does have live days away. Do fun stuff? What's that even supposed to mean?

Sylvain huffs. He'll convince Glenn. He'll tell him, and Glenn will know. He'll understand .  "I've had sex, you know. I fucked a girl after my birthday party."

Glenn’s eyes shift left then right then left again, eyebrows scrunched. What significance did that hold? So he bedded someone. What of it? He looks back at Sylvain.

“...Alright? That’s... nice... I guess...” Was he supposed to congratulate Sylvain? What do you say to someone in regard to that?

"It—" wasn't, not really, well, maybe... It's complicated. "It's proof! Proof that I'm not a child!"

“Does that mean that I am still a child?” Glenn crosses his arms over his chest, one eyebrow raised.

"... What? No ? I don't—... have you never..?"

Glenn shrugs. “No...” A blowjob doesn’t count. And also outs him. So. No.at least, not to that extent. And… not with a girl.

"..." Well, there goes Sylvain’s whole argument. What the fuck. Still, he's stubborn. "It's still proof. It doesn't apply in... your case. But you're older, anyway, so."

“I’m only 17, Syl. Technically, I’m not even an adult, yet...” Glenn frowns slightly.

"Well, yeah, but..." He looks away. "I don't want to be a kid, okay? I couldn't do anything as a kid. I was weak, and vulnerable, and I don't want to be that again."

“I can understand that...” Glenn reaches out and gently pushes a stray wave of Sylvain’s hair back behind his ear. “I just want you to try to enjoy your life before you have to fully shoulder the burden of inheriting your title...”

Ah. Sylvain tenses a bit, at the gesture, but then relaxes again. It's just Glenn. Just Glenn.

"That's... nice and all, but... literally everyone else has different plans."

His cheek is pressed against his knee now, and he brings his legs even closer, making himself smaller. "You're the only one who's telling me not to grow up." And now he's just confused.

“I only speak from my own experience.” An experience that he’s quite certain they share. “If you’re happy with how your life is now, then tell me to butt out and shut up. I won’t say anything else on the matter.”

... He stays quiet for a bit, biting his lower lip.

"I'll be fine. You have enough to worry about," I'd hate to be another burden , "so just... drop it."

Glenn opens his mouth to correct Sylvain, but he closes his mouth and presses his lips together instead of speaking. Alone, and in one night, he couldn’t possibly hope to fight off the years of thoughts fogging Sylvain’s mind. Glenn wonders if, somehow, he could have intercepted this earlier. But no, that was impossible. They were both still too young to have done anything different. Regretting was pointless. But, they could go forward. Maybe, with enough time and letters, Glenn could help Sylvain see things clearly. And then, once he graduated from Garreg Mach, Glenn could find more time to spend with Sylvain and get him away from his shitty father and brother for a while, here and there. This would take time. And Glenn wasn’t about to give up on Sylvain.

“Let’s do something fun, then, instead of talking about the burdens of being an heir.” What could they do, though? Glenn glances around the room. There were a few tables for chess down in the dining area of the pub. But that meant going downstairs and being around people. The room was too small to kick a beanbag back and forth. And they were both too big to be doing silly things like jumping on a bed. Being an adult was incredibly boring.

"... Yeah, sure. Sorry, I kind of... dragged the mood down again, huh." He finally turns his head back, sniffs once, and cracks a small smile. "There's not that much to do... umm, I found a deck of cards here earlier?"

“Syl, it’s not your fault. There are heavy things that both of us carry and never let anyone see. I... talk to you about it, because I trust you. And I care about you.” And Glenn hopes that the sentiment is returned. He believes it is, at least.

At least the mention of cards is promising. He perks up a bit. “I bet that I can kick your ass at poker, though.”

"Ah, umm... thank you. I'm glad you... feel that way. I-I care about you, too. You're..." really special to me, you've taught me much, showed me lots, and I ... "You're a really good friend."

He can feel that pesky blush making its way back over his cheeks, ugh. Anyway!

"We'll see about that!" And so he rushes to his feet, and over to the desk again. He opens a drawer, and finds the deck of cards he saw earlier.

"I've gotten even better since last time!"

Geez, Sylvain sure was a cutie, sometimes. How dare he grow so quickly. Get back down here. Glenn’s eyes trail after him as he retrieves the cards, grin on his lips. “Don’t get too cocky, Junior~ I’ve learned a few new tricks, myself~”

That’s what happens when most of your peers are a bunch of old knights, though.

He immediately starts shuffling the cards, and makes his way back.

"I'm not cocky, I'm just confident. So, Sir Glenn, why don't we make this a little bit more interesting... how much gold do you have on you?"

“Oh~? You’re a betting man, now, huh, Gautier~?” He smirks. “I have a good couple hundred on hand.” Most of it was emergency money, but, ah, it would be okay.

"Great," he grins, and sets the cards down between them. Then, he gets out his coin pouch, and deals out the cards.

Glenn’s naturally neutral (resting bitch) face makes for a great poker face. He loses a few rounds, but wins more, and bets wildly as he goes, until he’s won all of Sylvain’s gold. He skillfully bridges the cards as he shuffles them with the dexterity of a dealer in an upscale betting hall. “One more round, Gautier, or are you out of things to bet with~?”

Ugh, and Sylvain thought his poker face was good... well, there goes his allowance.

It had all happened so fast... Glenn was right (though he won't admit that out loud), he really shouldn't have been so cocky. "Ugh, you know I am. No need to rub it in!"

Glenn laughs. “One more round. You win, you get all your gold back. Buuuut~” A pause, for dramatic effect, plus a smirk. “If I win, I get one free request that I can call in whenever I want~ It never expires and I won’t forget~ How about it~?”

... He doesn't like the sound of that. Or the look on Glenn's face as he says it.

He glances at the pile of gold at Glenn's side, all of his money... well, why not? It's not like it'll be a huge deal, just some kind of favor. He wants his money back, his pride has been hurt!

"Alright. Deal."

Glenn winks and bridges the cards again before dealing. He takes a glance at his own cards and swaps two out, then glances at Sylvain, to see what he wanted to do.

Sylvain looks over his cards, thinks, and then swaps out two as well. He meets Glenn's gaze, and raises a brow in challenge. Go ahead.

Glenn shows his hand. “Straight.” Ironic, he thinks.

He groans, and shows his own. He was clearly hoping to end up with a full house, but as it is now, he's only got three of a kind. "Fuck you."

Glenn laughs and scoops all the cards back together. “I will call in that favor one day~ Don’t forget~”

He groans, again, more dramatically this time, and lies down on the bed.

"What's even the point in saving it? What are you planning?"

“I can’t just waste it. Sure, I could ask for something now. But I feel like a better opportunity will come along. I’m not one to squander resources.” Glenn is awfully smug about this.

"... You're weird." It's not like he has much to offer, and he can't imagine that changing anytime soon. "Fine, whatever. I won't forget."

He rests his head on top of his arms again... and then he yawns.

Glenn shrugs. He gets up to put the cards back. “We have a long trip, tomorrow. You wanna head to sleep?”

"I can stay up longer... How about you, old man? I hope you didn't push yourself too hard."

Glenn feigns a dramatic yawn. “I dunno, brat. All this gold that I won off you is making me awfully sleepy.”

"Asshole," he says, and he can't help but smile, even though he's being mocked. "Where's your room?"

“I’m right down the hall. Like two or three rooms over.” Glenn starts collecting his things.

Sylvain watches him, and... almost asks if he wants to stay. But that'd be weird. There's only one bed, and Glenn has his own room. There's no reason for him to stay (it just would've been kind of nice, maybe).

"Noted. I'll see you in the morning, then!"

“If you need me for anything, feel free to come get me. I’m a pretty light sleeper.” On missions, at least, he was. When he was at home, he was actually a pretty heavy sleeper. Something about the comfort of his own bed.

On impulse, before Glenn heads out, he leans in, and almost kisses Sylvain’s forehead, like he would with Felix and Dimitri. Ah. Embarrassing.

Glenn clears his throat and just wraps an arm around Sylvain, instead. It’d be too weird to just... pull away. At least he can play it off with a hug. “Night~”

Glenn's really close suddenly, and so Sylvain freezes. This isn't good for his heart.

Ah... r-right. Hug. Good night hug, that's a thing, for some people. He returns it, hoping that it might be dim enough in the room now for the blush to not be as obvious. 

"G'night..."

And then Glenn heads out with his stuff, down the hall, two rooms over, into his own room. He dumps his stuff off to the side, takes his boots and a few other things off, washes up, and then flops into bed. His arm rests over his eyes and his cheeks feel a bit warm when he thinks about how he had almost kissed Sylvain’s forehead.