Chapter Text
The Lazy Hare is a tavern like any other: smelly, loud, sticky, dark, full of people in various stages of inebriation, but cozy nonetheless. It is appropriately decorated for the time of year with the traditional clouds of colored paper frills hanging from the ceiling here and there in mimicry of the fireworks to come at the end of the week with Saint Ferdinand’s Festival. Like any other tavern it reminds Ale of the local tavern of Milltown and of every other tavern he has seen ever since. It’s familiar and alien to him at the same time.
From the perspective of the regular guests, however, it is he and his companions who are alien, and he forces himself not to hide from their curious stares. The town of Hengel is located so closely to the borders with the Southern Frosts and the Western Wastes that it might as well be in another country entirely. Still, the knowledge that after over four years of travelling they have crossed into Second Citadel territory again, has Ale a little on edge. Luckily, none of the stares seem to be looks of recognition and it only takes a short moment of lingering in the doorway for him to find what they’re looking for.
“Will you order something to drink for us, Fredrik?” Ale nudges Angelo at his side and nods towards the bar on the far side of the room. “Dorothea and I will find a table.”
Ale watches as Angelo follows his previous line of sight and sees the recognition appear on his face.
Angelo nods at him. “Shall I treat you to your usual orders?”
“No, hon, I want you to surprise me!” Quanyii says with a grin and Ale suppresses a smile.
“Just the usual for me too, schoolboy.” Ale says and Angelo leaves with a nod.
The tavern is well-filled, but luckily there are still some free tables left, including one that offers both Ale and Quanyii a sidelong view of the bar and its occupants. By the time they are seated, they can see Angelo smoothly slot into an empty space at the bar to ‘order drinks’, right next to the man known as Sir Floris the Decent.
For a man who does nothing to hide himself, he has been surprisingly hard to track down. Although, now that Ale is watching him, he doesn’t seem like the most memorable person one could meet, so perhaps it makes sense after all. Sir Floris the Decent was a knight of the crown at the very tail end of the Golden Era of Knights. Their research has shown that he has done his fair share of damage, but it is clear that it did not exactly gain him the same level of fame that men like Galahad and Sir Pellinore have amassed. It seems like he did little to make that happen after his retirement either.
In all honesty, going after Sir Floris is a long shot. They know that he did work together with Galahad for a brief period of time, but none of their sources provide any evidence that Sir Floris might have made it into Galahad’s circle of trustees. But they have been on the road for four years now and they haven’t gotten any closer to finding Galahad. So, if trying to squeeze any useful information out of Sir Floris is scraping the bottom of the barrel, then scraping is what Ale will do. Although, to be fair, Angelo will be doing most of the work this time.
“How long could it possibly take for Angelo to talk to this Sir Whatshisface?” Quanyii complains about as soon as they’ve sat down.
“Well, Dorothea, first of all, Fredrik needs to take as long as he needs to,” Ale says.
“Oh, nobody is listening to us, hon,” Quanyii says. “You should live a little.”
Ale only raises an eyebrow at her, to which Quanyii rolls her eyes. He accepts it as the concession it is.
“And second of all,” he continues. “It has been barely ten seconds.”
“I know!” Quanyii raises her eyes up towards the sky in lament, “I’m so thirsty!”
Before Ale even gets a chance to respond, he is already interrupted.
“Ben, you get your mind out of the gutter! I don’t mean that kind of thirsty.”
Well, at least she’s using the correct name.
“Literally nobody would think that you m-“
“Although, I suppose I also am that kind of thirsty,” Quanyii says with a sigh like she’d have you believe she’s on the brink of death. “After all it has been ages since I’ve had a chance to spend some time alone with my sweet, sweet Caroline.”
“You literally were alone together all night last night.”
“Exactly! It has been hours upon hours upon hours!”
“You know, I’ve been thinking, it’s been a while since we’ve had a team evaluation session. I might ask to have one after the briefing tonight, I’ve some great ideas to increase team morale.” Ale pretends to inspect something stuck under his nails, “should take only another extra hour or so.”
When he looks up, Quanyii looks utterly betrayed. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” Ale says with a shrug and a barely concealed grin.
They both know he won’t do it. If anything, he hopes the briefing will be short and efficient. This morning he had to cut his training short for their journey to Hengel and he’s been feeling on edge ever since. If they finish early tonight, he can get at least another hour of training in before bed time and be in bed in time to wake up for his morning training a bit earlier than usual as well. So they both know he’d skip the briefing altogether if it were up to him. Neither of them say it out loud though. Because if they do, it’ll derail into yet another discussion on how much training is too much training and it’s clear that neither of them have the energy for that now.
“Well, at least it looks like your man has made contact,” Quanyii says, glancing at the bar.
“Not my man.” Ale replies before he can stop himself from taking the bait. Quanyii smiles a delighted smile at him that he decides to ignore by looking in Angelo’s direction.
Quanyii is right: Sir Floris has caught Angelo in what seems to be a lively conversation. The man doesn’t seem like much. But then again, he isn’t much. He looks handsome, but not extraordinarily so. On his own, he might look big and strong. With Angelo next to him… Well, with Angelo next to you, anyone looks feeble and breakable.
Most retired knights spend their sizeable retirement pay on castles, real estate, and other business ventures that make Ale’s blood boil. Sir Floris, however, seems to spend his pay on alcohol, feasts, and nightly companions. Ale would feel bad for him, if it weren’t for the rundown Caroline had given them of Sir Floris the Decent’s biggest ‘achievements’ as a knight. Looking at him now, Sir Floris doesn’t look like the person to have a change of heart as big as the one Angelo has had.
There is something interesting about watching Angelo sit at the bar and laugh at whatever Sir Floris is saying. Even though Angelo was still a knight when they met, Ale has never actually seen Angelo interact with other knights while he was still on the job. Any encounter with Citadel knights since they left Milltown has been… less than friendly. Angelo isn’t pretending to be a knight to Sir Floris, but still, Ale wonders what it must feel like to Angelo to talk to a knight as to a friend again.
Quanyii lets out a big sigh and Ale turns to find her pouting. “Sweets, I am getting so bored. When are you actually going to do something about this?”
Of course. Saints forbid Quanyii doesn't take any opportunity to talk about this.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, but I know you do!” Quanyii says. “You are yearning and you know it!”
Quanyii turns to cast a look at Angelo. “Can’t say I blame you either. That beard is doing wonders for him!”
“Quanyii.” Ale warns her, though he’d hardly disagree.
“Oh, no worries, sweet Ben,” Quanyii tuts. “He is not my type. He is all yours!”
“Not what I meant and you know it.”
“And even if I were interested, Magic knows it would not be mutual, which is absolutely absurd, because who would not want a piece of me?” Quanyii continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “But! I suppose I can forgive him, because he is in love. And we all know that love makes people act weird and not appreciate true beauty even when it is right in front of them! It’s a bit like Magic that way, although Magic would never betray me like that.”
There are moments Ale is willing to admit that he thinks of Quanyii as a friend, loves her as a friend, even. This is not one of those moments.
“It’s not love,” Ale says. “And I’m not talking to you about this.”
“Look, hon, all I’m saying is if you’d walk to up him right now and smooch his face off, he would let you. And then me and the universe would finally be freed of your whole will-they-won’t-they schtick.”
“First of all: I will not be doing that.” Quanyii’s indignance is entirely unjustified. “And second of all: even if I wanted to, I’d rather not get hate-crimed.”
“Well first of all, you’re no fun. And second of all, we’re half a day’s ride out from the Glass City. This is the most progressive region of the Northern Wilds and I, for one, will be kissing my Caroline on the corner of every street here.”
“Good for you,” Ale says. “Maybe then you’ll leave me alone.”
“Oh, no worries, sweets, I can multitask!”
“But you won’t, because I’ll stop talking to you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Quanyii narrows her eyes at him. Ale raises one of his eyebrows in response. To say this type of exchange is familiar territory between them would be the understatement of the century.
“Fine!” Quanyii pouts eventually. “But only because my thoughts deserve an audience and not because I agree with what you’re doing or because it’s not love, because it so clearly is and your rule about not dating anyone until we find that stupid knight is dumb and you know it.”
Ale looks at her in silence until she sighs. “Yes, yes, I’m done.”
“Good,” Ale smiles sweetly and Quanyii dramatically drops her head to the table, curls flowing everywhere and stretching out just a little bit farther than should physically be possible.
A stubborn feeling gnaws at Ale’s insides and there’s nothing he can do but ignore it. He never should have told Quanyii about what happened in the Frosts. For two whole years he had succeeded in keeping his mouth shut. It’s not like the others hadn’t had their suspicions, but there had been no reason for him to address them and he had felt no obligation to disclose any personal information on the matter. With Angelo on the other side of the world he had even been able to convince himself that his feelings were long gone.
But then Angelo had returned with that stupid, stunning beard and that stupid, stunning smile of his. It had barely been a day before Ale’s feelings had returned full force. Especially the first few weeks after Angelo’s return had been torture and finally, in a moment of weakness, Ale had told Quanyii about what had happened in the Frosts. A choice that has been haunting him ever since. Because, really, everything is okay now. It has taken some time to adjust, longer than he had hoped anyway, but by now his feelings are once again folded up neatly and buried deeply inside his chest, right where they belong. If it weren’t for Quanyii regularly pestering him about the situation, he could have entirely forgotten about it by now.
“Sweets, I know I just promised not to say anything more on this,” Quanyii is looking over at the bar again, an uncharacteristic frown on her face. “But Sir Whatever is getting awfully friendly over there.”
Ale looks over at the bar. She’s right. He can see Sir Floris leaning closely into Angelo’s space, a coy smile on his lips, his eyes half-lidded. On his part, Angelo seems not to notice his advances, laughing boisterously at whatever the man is saying.
“I think Sir Nice Guy isn’t going to pick up on the fact that our dear Fredrik is this friendly with everyone.” Quanyii says and Ale has to agree. To the untrained eye, Angelo is flirting back enthusiastically. Whoever actually knows Angelo, knows that a flirting Angelo looks nothing like this. This Angelo is relaxed and confident. Flirting Angelo looks… unsure, bumbling, lovely. Ale tries to shake the image from his head before it gets the chance to get stuck on a loop.
A group of new arrivals to the bar briefly blocks their view of the bar. When they’ve passed, Sir Floris’ hand has made its way to Angelo’s lower arm. It’s when that hand travels up his arm, that Angelo seems to register Sir Floris’ intentions. The look he shoots Ale and Quanyii is surprised and panicked. Ale can’t tell whether Sir Decent doesn’t notice or refuses to notice the way Angelo tenses and leans back, but he does see the way his hand moves down Angelo’s arm again, clearly feeling up his muscles. Angelo slightly leans away, but Sir Floris only seems to feel invited to lean further into his space.
Vaguely, Ale registers Quanyii saying something, but before he can decipher her words, he has already risen from his seat and is making his way through the growing crowd towards the bar. Ale isn’t sure what his plan is and there isn’t time to think about it either, so when he reaches Angelo, he just acts. With a smile that’s supposed to pass off as genuine and relaxed, he slips his arm around Angelo’s waist, ignoring his confused look. Sir Floris leans back in surprise and Ale leans further into Angelo’s side, “what’s taking so long, babe? I was starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
Angelo looks flustered, but in a reflex his arm has come up around Ale’s shoulders, so hopefully that’ll sell the ruse well enough. Their eyes meet and Ale hates how they can’t simply act like they’re a couple for some simple mission without five years of history passing between them. He hates how he sees the panic he feels reflected in Angelo’s eyes. Then, Angelo manages to copy Ale’s smile.
“I apologize…love,” he says a moment too late, but perhaps at least quick enough to be believable. Ale tries not to let his smile falter. “We got to talking and I lost track of time. This is Sir Floris the Decent, an old knight of the Crown.”
Ale turns to Sir Floris, but doesn’t see a need to let go of Angelo to offer him his hand. Instead, he nods at him in greeting.
“Ben.” He introduces himself. “Nice to meet you.”
It hardly sounds believable, but Ale supposes it doesn’t have to sound believable anyway. By the looks of it, the sentiment wouldn’t be returned either way.
“Pleasure.” Sir Floris says curtly. His eyes are narrowed. “And you are…”
“His boyfriend.” Ale says and he tightens his grip on Angelo as if to prove it. Everything about this feels strange. Partly because, well, you know. And partly because he never in a million years would have touched another man so openly back when he still lived closer to the Citadel. Knowing that Hengel is a lot more accepting of things like this does little to soothe his nerves. The look in Floris’ eyes as he turns to Angelo doesn’t help either.
“Well, young man, in the future it would be polite to let a decent guy know you are taken before he invests his precious time in you,” Sir Floris says. “Or did you think I was just talking to you in the name of friendship?”
“I..”
“Or,” Sir Floris interrupts Angelo before he can answer. He moves to trail a finger down the arm that isn’t pressed into Ale’s side. “Were you secretly hoping I would whisk you away before your boyfriend could come to find you?”
“Excuse me?” Ale says and his hand twitches to reach for the sword at his hip.
“W-why, of course not!” Angelo stammers, moving his arm away from underneath Sir Floris’ touch. “I l-love him dearly!”
If Ale’s heart drops, it’s only because Angelo’s arm around him tenses strongly enough to almost knock him over.
Sir Floris leans back, snorting, “well, that sounded convincing.”
Ale frees his hand from holding Angelo, but instead of going for his sword, which he so badly wants, he grabs Angelo’s hand and pulls him up from the barstool. “We’re leaving now.”
He drags Angelo into the crowd with him, away from the sound of Sir Floris’ shouting, “when you get bored of him, you know where to find me!”
The tavern has gotten significantly more crowded in the past few minutes and Ale tries to find a path through the crowd to pick up Quanyii at their table, pulling Angelo by his hand behind him. He knows he could let go by now, but with Sir Floris still in the same room, he’d rather not. At least he can avoid looking at Angelo this way. That is, until Angelo decides to stop walking and pull Ale to a halt as well in the middle of the room.
“Ale,” Angelo tugs at Ale’s hand to turn him around towards him. “I’m sorry.”
“You did nothing wrong, don’t apologize." Ale can't help but frown. "You alright, schoolboy?”
“I am, thank you. I would not have known how to stop him without driving him away.”
“Not like I succeeded in doing that either.”
“That…is true, I suppose,” Angelo says and his face relaxes. “I suspect Caroline will not be very happy with this situation, will she?”
“She can take it up with me.” Ale shrugs and Angelo smiles. They look at each other and Ale knows they shouldn’t. Not like this anyway. Not as long as Galahad is still out there. Not when Sir Floris might decide to come after them any minute. Ale shoots a look at Quanyii over Angelo’s shoulder. She’s already gotten up from her seat and at his nod she starts to make her way to the door. Ale looks back at Angelo. He feels where Angelo’s hand rests in his and he knows that he should let go, but he can’t. Not yet.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says instead and he pulls Angelo to the door. Quanyii is a little ahead of them and right after she slips through the door, a new wave of arrivals pushes its way in. It’s a good thing they’re still holding hands, Ale tells himself, as they try to push their way through the oncoming crowd.
It seems like time slows down and like everything happens all at once. One moment, Ale thinks he has found an opening to pull himself and Angelo through the door. The next, a tiny woman tries to make her way inside at the same time. Then, Ale feels Angelo freeze on the other end of his hand. He tries to tug at Angelo’s hand while turning around to see what’s happening and then he sees. Angelo, frozen. The woman, frozen. Looking at each other as time seems to stretch onwards.
“Angie?” The woman breathes out after a moment, her voice tight and broken and soft. “Is that you?”
Angelo opens his mouth, but nothing more than a strangled noise comes out. His nod is shaky. Then, the woman’s arms are around Angelo’s waist and Angelo’s free hand clutches around her shoulders and Ale can’t hear the sound of their sobs over the noise of the crowd, but he can feel Angelo’s hand tremble in his.
On the other side of the open door, Quanyii appears with a questioning look in her eyes. Ale shoots her a warning look and thankfully she understands to keep quiet. Her eyes widen when she glimpses inside. A quick and silent conversation ends with the two of them quietly nodding at each other and then Quanyii walks off again. Ale doesn’t have to watch her go to know she’ll be striking down on the bench across the street. Close enough to keep an eye on them, but far enough away to pretend that she’s not.
When Ale turns back, Angelo and the woman haven’t moved an inch. The hold Angelo has on Ale has tightened and his shoulders heave in big, shuddering movements. When Ale takes a step closer to them, he can hear Angelo murmur, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
It’s not the first time Ale has watched Angelo cry. He learned pretty quickly that Angelo is a fervent happy crier, and that a good book can reduce him to a mess of emotions. But seeing Angelo crying like this. That has only happened once before, years ago, when they crossed the border of the Northern Wilds for the first time and there was no turning back. That night, it seemed, Angelo allowed himself to mourn everything he lost and Ale had held him through all of it, back when that felt a little less complicated than it does now.
He wishes he could do it again now. To take Angelo into his arm and protect him from the outside world and to make him feel small and coveted, because everybody should get to feel that way, especially when you’re big and strong. But he knows there is nothing he can do but stand there and softly rub his thumb across the back of Angelo’s hand. At the same time, it’s hard not to be hyper-aware of their surroundings. Thankfully, the tavern is stacked by now and the vast majority of its patrons is occupied otherwise. Still, a couple of people shoot them curious looks and that’s hardly something they can use right now. So after a minute, Ale reluctantly tugs softly at Angelo’s hand. Angelo looks at him with bloodshot eyes and the movement causes the woman to look up as well, her hold on Angelo loosening just the slightest bit.
“Should we move outside?” Ale asks. His tone is soft, but he doesn’t wait for an answer either. In the state they seem to be in, he doubts they’ll have many thoughts on it either way. He pulls at Angelo’s hand softly but steadily until he feels him follow. The woman remains glued to Angelo’s side, but she follows them nonetheless. It’s a tight fit to get them through the door, but they make it outside anyway and Ale silently thanks whichever Lazy Hare employee decided to place a bench outside the tavern. He fully expects Angelo to let go of his hand when he sits the both of them down, but Angelo keeps clutching it tightly and so Ale sits down on his other side, looking over his shoulder at the woman now reaching out to softly touch Angelo’s beard.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she murmurs. “You’re really here.”
“I’m sorry,” Angelo says again. Ale has never seen Angelo so lost for words.
“No,” she shakes her head. “Let’s not talk about that yet. I just want to be happy for a moment, okay?”
Angelo only nods and lets her tug his head into her shoulder. After a few moments, it’s like Ale can feel every muscle in his body relax.
“I have missed you so much, Rudy,” he hears Angelo say softly.
“I have missed you too, Angie,” the woman, Rudy apparently, whispers back.
“Are you alright?” Angelo asks. “Why are you in Hengel?”
“I’ve been alright, but I’m better now.” Rudy says, squeezing Angelo a little tighter to emphasize her point. “Harry and I moved here a couple of years ago. He had an opportunity to come here for work and you know I love this region - you remember that time we stayed at the Frozen Lake for a week when we were little? It’s only an hour’s ride from here. The kids were young enough to accept the move, so we went for it.”
“Lucy and Puck?” Angelo asks. “Are they alright?”
“Yes, they love it here.” Angelo nods at that and Ale can feel the tension build in him. It takes a moment before he gets the words out.
“How are mom and dad?” He asks.
“They miss you,” Rudy says and Angelo’s entire body heaves with a sob. “But they’re alright. Healthy.”
“I’m so sorry for disappearing. I wish I could explain, I just- I-” Angelo says and falls silent again. Rudy slowly detaches herself from Angelo. Her eyes are still wet from the tears, but she has stopped crying. It’s striking how similar she looks to Angelo. The same nose, the same freckles.
“I think I understand now,” she says and she turns to look at Ale over Angelo’s shoulder. Ale feels her hands covering theirs. “This is why, correct?”
It’s as if their hands have been burned and Ale can feel Angelo reflexively trying to pull his hand away, but Rudy holds on tightly.
“You don’t have to hide such a thing from me, Angie,” she says reassuringly. “Not from any of us. I am sorry that you felt this was your only option.”
It only takes a moment for Ale to register that they’re being presented a way out. He’s kept silent so far, but he doubts Angelo sees the same opportunity, which means Ale will have to take it.
“We weren’t hiding from you. Not really, at least,” he says. “Angelo’s captain found out and then other knights found out and it wasn’t safe for us to stay. We knew they would come looking for him in Quarry and we thought telling you would put you in danger. We’re so sorry.”
“They did come looking for you,” Rudy says. “They’ve been looking for you for years. Angie, they say the most awful things about you. That you betrayed the Crown, that you threatened the Queen, that you worked together with that Kite to invade the Citadel. I knew they couldn’t be true, but I never thought they would make up such horrible things over what should be such a small thing.”
“Y-you do not mind?” Angelo asks and Ale’s heart breaks a little for him. Their relationship might be a lie, but there is enough truth to it that Ale can guess how important his family’s support must be to Angelo.
“Not at all, love,” Rudy says, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Although I will mind if you take much longer to introduce me to the man who has apparently swept my baby brother off his feet.”
The little shake Ale feels travel through Angelo’s body hints at laughter this time. When he turns to Ale, there are about a dozen conflicting emotions in his eyes. The fearful question in them, Ale tries to soothe with a smile and a nod.
“Ale, this is my eldest sister, Ruth.” Angelo says. Then he turns his shy look to Ruth. “Rudy, this is Ale.”
“His boyfriend,” Ale supplies, because someone needs to say the words out loud and Angelo isn’t going to without Ale’s explicit permission. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ruth. I wish it could have happened sooner and under different circumstances.”
“Nice to meet you, Ale,” Ruth says with a smile. “And you can call me Rudy. Everyone does.”
Ale smiles at her and then it’s silent for a tense moment. Eventually, Rudy pulls her hands off Angelo and Ale’s to wipe her eyes dry.
“So, what do we do now, Angie?” She asks. “How long are you staying in Hengel for? How did you get here? Can you stay with us for a while? We have a guestroom and it is not very big, but the kids have missed you so much and I know Harry has too and Saint Ferdinand’s Feast is only a few days out and wouldn’t it be lovely to celebrate it together again like we used to when we were kids?”
The look of panic and hope Angelo shoots him goes straight for Ale’s heart. It makes him ache for Angelo as much as for his own family back in Milltown, or what’s left of it anyway. Galahad looms in the back of his mind as he always does, but perhaps for once he can be put on the backburner for just a little bit.
“Well, we’re here for a job and we were supposed to leave for it the day after tomorrow,” Ale starts slowly, squeezing Angelo’s hand in reassurance when he sees his heart break. “But we have a meeting tomorrow morning with our client. We could discuss delaying our assignment a couple of days, so Angelo can spend time with you.”
You could offer Ale a million gold pieces and he still couldn’t tell you whose smile is brighter, Rudy’s or Angelo’s. He could tell you whose smile makes his heart stutter in his chest, but he really rather wouldn’t.
It’s the best Ale can do right now. They need a moment to regroup and get their story straight, but there is no scenario in which Ale will not fight for Angelo to spend at least a little bit of time with his family. Caroline can take it up with him.
“You must join us as well, Ale,” Rudy says. “I want to get to know all about you, alright?”
It’s so genuine it makes Ale’s heart ache.
“I will, thank you,” he says. “But we do have some things we need to finish up before tomorrow. How about Angelo comes to stay with you tonight, while I finish up some previous work. I can take the meeting tomorrow on my own and then I can join you afterwards?”
“If that is alright with you?” Angelo asks. Ale can see the lingering disbelief in his eyes.
“Of course,” Ale shrugs simply. “I can handle it on my own.”
“Thank you.”
Ale decides not to respond to it, instead turning to the practicalities. He can see that Rudy is reluctant to let Angelo out of her sight again, but eventually he manages to convince her to let Angelo and Ale go back to the inn they’re staying at on their own so they can discuss their ‘job’ and plans while Angelo packs his things. Rudy makes them repeat the directions from the inn to her house five times before she lets them go. Ale fears their hug goodbye might never end, but he can’t find it within himself to blame them. He takes the moment of their distraction to shoot a glance across the street at Quanyii. She’s still seated, but with a slight nod of her head she lets him know she’ll follow them to the inn at a distance once they depart. When Rudy has eventually managed to let Angelo go, she squeezes Ale’s arm gently in greeting.
“See you tomorrow, Ale,” Rudy says with a smile. “I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
“Likewise, Rudy,” Ale smiles back.
Rudy sends another look to Angelo, tears once again shimmering in her eyes. “See you soon, Angie.”
“See you soon, Rudy.”
There’s no real reason for Ale to grab Angelo’s hand again as they walk away and keep holding it long after they are out of Rudy’s sight, but by the way it trembles in his all the way back to the inn, he’s glad he did it anyway.
---
Caroline isn’t exactly happy with the situation, but neither Angelo nor Ale needs to put up a fight to get her to agree to let them go.
“Sir Floris will not want to talk to either of you again either way, so I suppose I will have to try to get some information out of him,” she says.
“You really do not mind?” Angelo asks. There is guilt written all over his face and Caroline’s softens.
“It is less than ideal and it is a risk to stay here much longer with people knowing who you are, but you need to take this opportunity to spend time with your family. I know how much they mean to you,” she says gently. “I can give you a week. That way you can spend Saint Ferdinand’s with them and I can take my time with Sir Floris.”
A whole week. Ale knows that he is happy for Angelo, but the fact that he is going to have to pretend to be in a relationship with him for a whole week is also starting to sink in and it’s making him feel too many things to unpack right now. The looks of delight Quanyii keeps shooting him do nothing to slow the beating of his heart and Olala offers no form of reprieve either. It’s been a good fifteen minutes since Angelo explained their predicament to the group and she still has to hide her grin behind her hand. Her tail knows no such etiquette and has been wildly swinging side to side with excitement.
It's no surprise at all that when Quanyii decides their briefing is finished and demands that everyone but her and Caroline leave the room, Ale catches Olala following Angelo right into his room. Neither is it a surprise that it takes Angelo the better part of an hour to come to Ale’s door.
“Ale?” Angelo’s voice drifts through the door alongside his knock. “May I come in?”
Ale’s sword stills where he was swinging it through the air. Every cell in his body yells at him to keep going until every muscle feels numb and every thought quiet and far away. He takes a deep breath and lowers his sword. Everything will be fine.
“Door’s unlocked!” He calls out as he slides his sword back into its hilt.
His bedroom door opens with a carefulness uncharacteristic of Angelo. When Angelo walks in, they just stand there for a moment and look at each other. Angelo looks nervous and Ale can’t blame him. What is there to say in a situation like this?
“Hi,” is what Angelo ends up saying.
Well, that’s a start.
“Hi,” Ale says.
“I, uh,” Angelo rubs his neck awkwardly. “I have finished packing.”
“Glad to hear it,” Ale lets himself smile, “Angie.”
“HA!” The sound comes more out of surprise than amusement, but Ale can see Angelo’s shoulders relax the slightest bit and a smile appear on his face. Mission accomplished. “I suspect you will never let me live that down.”
Ale grins, “probably not.”
“Well, I suppose you have earned it,” Angelo says, his eyes kind as ever. “Thank you for doing this. It means a lot to me.”
There isn’t much to say to that kind of sincerity, so Ale just nods, “anytime.”
For a moment, they’re silent, but before it can live on for too long, Ale gestures at the arm chair in his room. “Have a seat.”
Angelo obligingly sits down in the chair and Ale moves to sit at the foot end of his bed.
“So, let’s talk strategy,” he says. Because really this is just like any other mission, isn’t it? It should be at least.
“A wise plan,” Angelo says, though he seems to be avoiding Ale’s eyes at all costs. “How do you propose we go about this?”
“Well, I suppose we’ve already got our cover story down with the others,” Ale says. Met in Milltown during the Kite’s attacks, fled the Citadel after Angelo was outed, kept on the move ever since, making money doing private security work here and there. It’s an easy enough story to remember and Ale wishes they could linger on it anyway, until there will be no more time left to discuss what they really need to. He knows they can’t. He tries for a light tone anyway, “so, let’s talk about how to make your family believe we’re together without making this terribly awkward for ourselves!”
“Ale, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable,” Angelo says. When he meets Ale’s eyes, his expression is genuinely pained. “I just- If you want me to, I can tell them tonight that it was all a misunderstanding. I am certain they will understand.”
“You know that’s not an option, schoolboy. They’ll want another explanation for your absence and the more they know, the more at risk they are of going down with us as traitors of the Crown if Absolon ever catches up with us,” Ale says. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable either, so we’ll just make some rules and agree to let each other know if we ever cross a boundary and then we’ll be fine, yeah?”
“That sounds… reasonable,” Angelo says with a deep breath.
“Alright,” Ale says. Now the hard part. “So, how would Rudy expect you to treat your partner?”
“Well, uh, so you see we grew up living in very close quarters and we are a very big family and we used to spent a lot of time together and uh-” Angelo looks decidedly away. “That is to say: my family is very affectionate.”
“You mean verbally or physically?” Ale asks.
“Both.” Angelo answers, scrunching his nose in a way that would be endlessly charming to Ale if there weren’t other things to focus on. “But again, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”
“Angelo, you have to trust me to set my own boundaries.” Ale says. “I hope you know me well enough by now to know that I don’t do anything I don’t feel comfortable with.”
Angelo looks at him then and for a moment, Ale feels observed, analyzed. Then, Angelo just nods, “alright.”
“Alright,” Ale echoes. “Then, can you be more specific in what Rudy would expect us to act like?”
“I think she would expect me to call you pet names,” Angelo says. “And, I suppose she already saw us holding hands, so it might cause suspicion if we were to stop doing that.”
“I don’t mind either of those,” Ale says. Then he feels the need to add, “if you keep it classy with the pet names at least. You can’t call me something like sugar bear and expect me to keep a straight face.”
“I suppose I can abstain from doing that,” Angelo smiles. “Although I assure you my creativity knows no bounds.”
“Yeah, no, I think I’m good,” Ale says, but he knows he is smiling too.
“I suppose Damien was always the man of words.”
“I swear, if you call me honeysuckle even once…”
“You are mistaken, that is what Lord Arum calls Damien.”
“Point still stands.”
“Fair enough,” Angelo concedes, although he is still smiling. “So rule number one: no flowery pet names.”
“Good,” Ale says, and because they have to stay on track: “what else?”
“Well,” Angelo starts, some of the tension that had started to dissipate coming back. “I suppose Rudy might expect the general physical affections people portray when they are in a romantic relationship with one another.”
Ale raises an eyebrow at Angelo, letting him know that he’s not going to be the one to make things specific for them. Angelo fidgets for a moment, but to his credit, once he seems to have accepted that Ale isn’t going to jump in, he gets to it, “you know, touches to an arm or a cheek, embracing one another, sitting closely together, and, I suppose, kisses, maybe. However I do not know if those will all be necessary though, so perhaps we might not have to speak on them, if it makes you uncomfortable that is.”
And it is so tempting to assume they won’t be necessary at all and end the conversation here. To just hope they can improvise in the moment if needed.
“We should go through them anyway.” Ale says, because if anything he prides himself in being a responsible person that looks ahead. “If we get caught off-guard and they see through us, we’re putting them as well as ourselves in danger.”
“Right.” Angelo says.
“Let’s just go through them one by one,” Ale says. “You said something about sitting closely together right?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Ale says. “You?”
“I would not either.”
“Okay. What about hugs or things like that? Like when I put my arm around you at the bar earlier?”
“That would be fine for me.”
“For me too,” Ale says, because he’s an idiot.
“Okay,” Angelo says.
“Okay,” Ale says.
“So then…” Angelo starts and trails off.
Kisses.
“Yeah,” Ale says and after a deep breath, “where?”
Angelo turns bright red beneath his freckles and Ale decides it might be better if he looks away for this part of the conversation. The inns they tend to stay at aren’t expensive, but they’re not the cheapest ones either. A painting adorns one of the walls of his bedroom, so Ale starts tracing the cut of the wooden frame with his eyes, the shapes on the canvas.
“Hand?” Angelo asks. There is a tingle on the back of his hand that Ale refuses to acknowledge.
“That’s fine,” he says. His eyes follow a wooden curl in the top right corner of the painting’s frame.
“Cheek?” Angelo asks. Ale’s cheeks grow warm, but he refuses to feel it.
“Sure,” he says. He thinks the trees in the painting might be oak trees, common in this region, unheard of near Milltown.
“Forehead?” Angelo asks. Ale refuses to think of the time Angelo kissed his forehead in the Frosts. How soft it was, how tender, how Angelo. How it made Ale feel like crying.
“Hm-hm,” Ale makes an affirmative noise. He wonders what the wild river in the painting sounded like when the painting was made. If it was anywhere near as scary as the sound of Angelo’s unsteady breath across the room.
Ale makes the mistake of looking at him, when the word, barely audible, finally passes Angelo’s… “lips.”
Ale’s heart flips and he feels as though he is violently awakened from a slumber. For months and for years he has been able to keep his feelings in check through his rigorous zero-tolerance policy. Give in for just a moment, one late-afternoon in some stupid town called Hengel, and the effects are immediate. Ale curses himself and forces himself to think. Think of Galahad, think of Milltown, of Judith, of Alexei, of Robin. Think of Borre, think of Pa. Focus. Focus, Ale. Draw a line.
When he speaks, it is only natural that his voice is as steady as ever, “I doubt that’ll be necessary, so no.”
“Alright.” Angelo nods, a look passing through his eyes that Ale decides would be better not to try to decipher. “Rule number two: no kisses.”
Except for all those we already agreed to, Ale thinks.
“Alright.” He echoes. “Then I think that’s all we need to discuss for now.”
Angelo nods. The distance between them feels bigger than before.
As it should, Ale reminds himself.
“Thank you again, Ale,” Angelo says. “I am sorry that I got you into this situation.”
“Don’t be,” Ale says and he means it. “I did.”
It’s true. If he had just let go of Angelo’s hand after he got him away from Sir Floris…
“You did that only to help me. I must thank you for that as well.” Ale doesn’t answer and after a moment, Angelo rises from his seat. “I will leave you to rest.”
Ale watches Angelo move through the room and he wonders if he could have done anything different that might have prevented this situation. He could have taken a moment to just think and send Quanyii to save Angelo from Sir Floris in his stead. He could have left Angelo to figure his own way out of the conversation. He could have thought of any excuse to get Angelo away from him other than the two of them being lovers. And yet.
“Angelo,” Ale blurts out. Angelo’s hand stills where it has already landed on the door knob. “I have another rule.”
Angelo turns around and looks at Ale. Ale forces his breath to remain steady.
“Don’t tell me you love me.”
A look passes through Angelo’s eyes and Ale refuses to unpack it; the sting of regret for his words is sharp enough in his chest as it is. Perhaps that sting and that look are the proof that Ale needs to know that he has made the right decision in saying them anyway.
“As you wish,” Angelo says with a slight nod. Then he turns back to the door and twists it open.
“Goodnight, Ale.”
“Goodnight, schoolboy,” Ale mumbles.
Then the door closes behind Angelo and Ale is alone.