Work Text:
“One of yours is in the throne room for your majesty,” one of Raspen’s guards murmured quietly as his meeting ended.
“Throne room?” Raspen asked, lips quirking into a small smile. From that detail alone, he had a fairly good idea of who it was.
The Gheyo ACE accompanying him grimaced, but nodded.
“I suppose I should go see what he wants then,” Raspen murmured. “Are we done for the day?”
“Most likely,” his guard said with a small sigh. By now, everyone who served the newly-crowed Earth King knew that when his Circle started showing up at the Courts, a break was non-negotiable.
A few minutes later, Raspen let a fond smile cross his lips at the sight of a dark form lounging in his throne, eyes closed for a quick nap.
“I thought my aides scolded you for doing that,” he commented.
A blue eye cracked open and Brishen slouched lower in the ornate chair. “I’m a horrible listener,” he remarked. “Just ask Hadrian.”
“Does he have you on messenger duty again?” Raspen asked.
Brishen snorted. “That’s Devrim,” he replied. “No, I promised Harry that I would bring you home tonight—though he might have been asking for Theo. Or Quinn.” He scowled at Raspen to make his feelings on the matter known. He still hated intermediaries, but it was hard to say no when Harry was said intermediary.
“I’m sorry,” Raspen said, the fond smile returning. “Give me ten minutes?”
Brishen’s eye closed and he deliberately made himself more comfortable on the ceremonial throne. “Twenty.”
Raspen’s smile grew. Thirty it was then.