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Anybody with brains could see that Pagan made a shitty monarch...but without him, Kyrat would’ve fallen apart.
If Ajay had actually listened to all of the people clamoring for Pagan’s death, or even let him fly off into the sunset without trying to get him back, things would be so different. So much worse. If he hadn’t had access to Pagan’s resources, all of his gathered intel, there would have been no way he could've found out about Amita’s plans for Bhadra. Not until it was too late. If it weren’t for those reports, he would never have known where they were holding her and gotten there in time.
The only grace he’d given Amita, whom he’d thought was the best of two awful choices, was that he’d made it a quick death. Then he’d wiped the blood off himself as best he could, and took Bhadra back with him to the one place in Kyrat that was starting to feel like home.
Everything became clear to him on that return trip, yet another flash of intuition or instinct, or whatever it was. It came to him all at once, what he needed to do, but it took him a while to sort out all the pieces of why.
As soon as they got back to the Palace, he’d marched around with her until he’d finally located Pagan in the little kitchenette upstairs.
“I’m putting Bhadra on the throne,” he had announced. No sense in beating around the bush.
Pagan had shaken his head in exasperation, but his tone was fond. “What am I to do with you, dear boy? I keep giving you Kyrat, and you keep doing your best to just give it away again. To a mere child this time.”
“No,” he’d argued, as he seldom did with him, “this is right. This is the right thing to do. It should be her…no, listen to me. Listen,” when Pagan just chuckled and went right back to his sandwich making, already bored and dismissive. Besides that day in the courtyard, it was probably the most important conversation they’d had so far. “It has to be her, because the people will all unite behind her. They might do the same with me, but she understands this place in a way I don’t. And she cares about people in a way that…well, that you don’t seem to be able to.” Pagan had just shrugged, conceding that point. Ajay sighed. “I don’t think just one king or queen or whatever is going to work. I think it’s going to take all three of us.”
Bhadra had been quiet the whole time, as she was prone to being, but then she piped up.
“You are both wrong. He does care.” Pagan snorted, and she turned to him. “No, you care a great deal, but where the difficulty lies is in caring for so many. It is too…oh, what is the English word? Amoort, it is too amoort for you.”
“Abstract,” Pagan murmured, sandwich forgotten and seemingly fascinated instead of offended by this analysis of his shortcomings. “Intangible.”
“Yes! Your heart is a deep, deep well…for only a few. But Ajay cares deeply for the people. You care, through him. And with him at your side, you never have to wonder, never have to ask yourself, ‘Is this the right thing to do?’ You need only say, instead, ‘Would Ajay be angry with me if I were to do this? Would it make him sad?’” She had let out an exasperated snort of her own. “I told Amita and Sabal this. I told them that you are a man whom Ishwari found worthy. That you, like them, have known pain, and loss. This is someone who has loved deeply and lost his way, someone that you can reach, I said. But they never listened. They saw only what they wanted to see, heard only what they already agreed with.”
After that pronouncement, Pagan had just stared.
“God, you remind me of her,” he said eventually, hoarse and soft and pained and so unlike himself.
“That is a great honor,” she replied, her young face grave. And then walked over and, without an ounce of hesitation, slid her arms around Pagan’s waist and hugged him tight.
Ajay immediately flinched. The look on Pagan’s face had defied description.
People didn’t do that, didn’t touch him. No, Pagan was the one who did the touching, generally as a prelude to stabbing. If she startled him, freaked him out…even if he only swatted at her or shoved her away in a fit of temper, he could do serious damage. She was just so small in comparison. Her head barely reached the middle of Pagan’s chest.
But before he could even take a step to get between them, Pagan had reached out and slowly rested his hands on her shoulders. A tentative, careful touch, and Ajay realized he really should have given him more credit.
“I feel that, in time, you will come to care for me as well,” she said, still holding him tightly. And when was the last time that happened, he found himself wondering. When was the last time that anybody just put their arms around Pagan and held him like that?
“Oddly enough, I believe I already might,” and even more shocking, Pagan had bent his head and dropped a small kiss onto her glossy black hair. “Very unlike me, I know. But before I met you, I didn’t understand what Ajay was trying to tell me. Now I do…and he’s precisely right. Are you willing to take that burden, my dear? It won’t ever be easy, but I’ll help you.”
“I do not know if any of us would choose this life willingly, to be Tarun Matara. Because I am, I have come to realize, ceremony or not. But every girl who is chosen knows that there is the possibility she will rule Kyrat someday, however small. My people need me.” She snorted again, this time muffled against Pagan’s shirtfront. “At least I will not be forced to marry Sabal, who behaved as if he were allergic to soap and water.”
Pagan chuckled against her hair. “No, no, Ajay made very sure of that.” He spread his hands gently across her back, so large that they covered a great deal of it. “I like to think that perhaps…perhaps she also would have been like you.”
Neither of them had to ask who it was he meant.
“That is a very great honor as well,” she had whispered.
So Bhadra had come to live with them in the Royal Palace, as the rightful ruler of Kyrat should. As the son of the former Tarun Matara and both Mohan and Pagan’s chosen heir, Ajay was triply qualified to act as her Regent. Pagan nominated himself the Royal Advisor, or the Grand Vizier to the Throne, or whatever pompous title he came up with that he thought might make them laugh that day, and the three of them muddled through.
Shit was getting better, anyway.
To their collective surprise, that initial meeting with Bhadra had seemed to unlock something else in Pagan. Had unearthed something that had been long-buried…because before too many months had passed, he’d turned up in Ajay’s room one night and climbed right in bed with him.
But if Pagan’s original intentions had included seduction at all it would have been a really weird way to go about it, since he’d shown up with a book and an extra pillow, fully covered by a set of modest silk pajamas. Something in the flat stare that Pagan had given him when he opened his mouth to say what the hell indicated that, if he were to question this bizarre turn of events, that Pagan would take his pillow and book and his silk-clad self back to his own rooms, never to return to his.
Ajay had blinked, and then thought of a tender green shoot, something new that was growing towards him. A slow and delicate tendril reaching out. Wouldn’t want to hurt it, make it furl back up, so he wisely kept his mouth shut.
Pagan turned the bedside lamp on low and tilted his book towards it and proceeded to lie there beside him and read with his glasses pushed down his nose like this was all perfectly normal. Something they did all the time, as Ajay watched him wet a finger in his mouth and slowly turn a page. Despite how fucking weird it was, eventually drowsiness had won out and he ended up dozing off in the middle of watching him. The unfamiliarity of the light being on had woken him some time later, but it had been easy to let himself drift off again.
Instead of intrusive like he thought it would be, something about Pagan being there was unexpectedly comforting.
Ajay woke again much later, to darkness. The lamp had been switched off, and for a moment he thought Pagan had gone. But he was still there; Ajay found him snuggled under the comforter, fast asleep, his book and glasses placed neatly on the bedside table. Obviously meant to stay the night right there with him. Ajay watched him for a while then too, even though there wasn’t much to see, and had decided he liked the way he was warm and smelled pretty good and was considerate enough to not yammer endlessly at him. Hadn’t said a word, in fact.
The next night was much the same, although it wasn’t even a week later that he had ended up over on Ajay’s side of the bed, kind of tucked against him.
As soon as Pagan woke up enough to realize it, he moved back over immediately, but Ajay also didn’t complain about it. On the contrary, it was…nice. A little strange, sure, but the human contact was kind of welcome. Pagan seemed to sense that, because he started setting his book and glasses aside when he got tired and would sort of snuggle up to him to go to sleep. Also as if this were a completely normal thing they did, and after a night or two he decided to play along and began tucking an arm around him. But that quickly caused an issue, and Ajay learned that the pajamas were just a courtesy to not weird him out.
The third time that Pagan woke all sweaty and swearing that they were trying to strangle him, Ajay made a little strangled noise of his own.
“I…it’s fine with me, if you…uh, if you want to just take them off,” and then blushed furiously, grateful for the concealing dark. “If it’s like, uncomfortable, or whatever. I get that.” He did. No matter how cold it got in the winter, he had always hated wearing clothes to bed. Too constrictive.
Pagan had sat up and blinked, quiet for so long that Ajay began to think that maybe he’d said the wrong thing, had offended him somehow. But he eventually got up and switched the lamp on the dimmest setting and stripped down by the side of the bed, quick and efficient, and the fact that he wasn’t the slightest bit teasing or sexy about it didn’t seem to matter. Just a glimpse of Pagan’s bare, freckled skin on display had made Ajay shiver all over. All over, directly followed by a different kind of warm flush; this time, one that didn’t leave any room for doubt as to what it meant.
A revelation that night, blindsided by that first view of Pagan in his boxers…over all too soon when he slid back under the comforter.
But this time, Pagan stuck firmly to the other side of the bed.
Silence.
Once he had somewhat gotten over the profound shock of his own reaction, Ajay cleared his throat a little. “Don’t have to stay all the way over there, if…you know, if you don’t want to.”
“Perhaps that might not be the best idea,” Pagan had said, slowly and carefully.
“Oh, okay. That’s cool,” Ajay replied in the same careful way, hoping his disappointment wasn’t too apparent. Just the thought of Pagan’s bare skin touching his was suddenly super exciting, like he was a fucking teenager again or something. It was weird, and seemingly out of the blue, and didn’t make any sense, and…
Pagan had made a tiny sound of frustration next to him.
“What’s wrong?” He reached over without thinking and put his hand on Pagan’s shoulder, squeezed it a little.
And like a dam breaking, Pagan had surged into his arms.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed against Ajay’s ear, and something that felt like an electric jolt rocketed around in his insides before it settled all low and warm as Pagan pressed himself full-length against him, already half-hard. They both were; only the thin barrier of undershorts kept them from rubbing silkily against each other there, too.
“I’m so sorry boy, I didn’t mean to be quite so forward with this, and while your reaction is very encouraging, if you…mmm…if you don’t want this to happen, please say so now, because it’s been fucking decades. Literally, not being metaphorical, and…”
“Are you kidding?” Ajay had whispered, clutching at his bare back, the velvety feeling of Pagan’s skin shifting against his already making him feel a little crazy. “You, I don’t…you…”
“I love you,” Pagan blurted. And then just as quickly scrambled back off him, like he was a live grenade.
“Oh shit,” Ajay also blurted, but snagged Pagan’s wrist before he could get too far. “No, wait…”
He tugged Pagan closer, taking in his faintly mortified expression. But when Ajay looked deeply into his eyes, it was as if he could see it for himself, could see into him so clearly. And how long had it been there, just waiting for him to look? To really look?
Something in Pagan’s warm, dark gaze had resonated through his whole body, had sparked an answer deep inside him, deep in his chest.
“I…I do too,” Ajay told him awkwardly, his lips gone a little numb. “Love you, I mean. I think…yeah, I think it snuck up on me.” And then leaned in and kissed him.
Awkward at that as well, but it really didn’t seem to matter.
Objectively, the whole thing had been fairly awkward and clumsy, and over far too soon. Not unexpected, especially for the first time; too excited to get much further than thrusting and rubbing as they clutched at each other. But it had also been meltingly hot, and what they lacked in finesse they more than made up for with raw enthusiasm. After they finally managed to get the last obstacles out of their way and flung in the general direction of the laundry basket, they moaned and panted and rutted against each other with pure, unselfconscious delight, with so much feeling poured into such a simple act. A joyful exuberance.
And that part? That part of it hadn’t been awkward at all.
As it turned out, all that Pagan really needed to be halfway decent for Kyrat was for someone to love him. Love him, and aim him in some kind of direction. Maybe offer a moral compass reading from time to time.
But mostly, just love him.
Not the adoration of the masses or anything, none of that shit; the kind where he could hug them close and love them back.
Family.
Just like Bhadra had said once: a narrow well, but one that ran deep.
End
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