Chapter Text
It was a perfectly splendid morning, Cliopher thought as he sat on the sand bar—so close to his Radiancy they could almost touch if the weight of the imperial taboos weren’t such a heavy barrier between them.
They’d spent well over an hour snorkelling, pointing out brightly coloured fish and corals to each other as if they were friends. As if Cliopher could be friends with the Emperor whose secretary and Hands he was. Deep in his mind, he longed to call his Radiancy a friend—his dearest friend even—much as he knew such a thought could easily be called treason.
Since his Radiancy had gone silent after speaking of the death of Shallyr Silvertongue, Cliopher had simply sat with him—supportive, open, ready should his Radiancy want to say anything more. His Radiancy looked contemplative, tired, beyond fatigued, as if the discussion had hurt him deep down inside. Cliopher’s heart ached with sympathy. His questions had likely sparked his lord’s hurt. If only he could do something to comfort him, to brush that pain away.
His Radiancy gave a long sigh, raising his head to look back towards the beach where his honour guard waited. Ludvic and Rhodin were visible as well, sitting on the steps of the deck of the vacation house. "I expect Ludvic is getting concerned,” he said, quietly, regretfully. “We should head back. Slowly."
“Of course, my lord.” Cliopher waited for his Radiancy to slip his snorkel mask on before donning his own. Then he let his lord take the lead on the swim back, following several easy strokes behind—glancing up often to keep careful watch on his Radiancy’s position.
That care meant Cliopher was watching when his lord let out a pained cry and pulled to a sharp stop. His Radiancy’s head sank below the surface of the water for a frightful moment before he popped back up, his hands reaching to yank the snorkel mask off. He dropped the mask carelessly, gasping for breath.
Cliopher pulled his own mask off, looping it quickly around his forearm before paddling as close as he dared given his lord’s flailing. “What’s wrong, my lord?” he demanded, trying to break his Radiancy’s panic.
Magic—it had to be magic—surged across the lagoon, sending water flying every which way. Somehow unaffected, Cliopher swam until he was in front of his lord—too close and not close enough. His Radiancy’s eyes burned bright. His hands clawed at his chest, even as his feet kicked hard, trying to keep him above the surface. “No don’t,” his Radiancy shouted.
It took Cliopher a moment to realize the admonishment was not directed at him. “My lord,” he cried as his Radiancy battled the water, gasping for air and struggling to stay afloat.
“I’m not going,” his Radiancy said, forceful, desperate. His head sank below the surface again.
Cliopher glanced back towards the shore. He could see the guards gathering at the edge of the water, no doubt beyond frantic. As he watched, one of the guards dove into the water, taking too-slow strokes towards them. Whoever it was wasn’t a great swimmer, Cliopher immediately realized. They’d never make it in time to be of any help—to offer any kind of guidance. Not that they’d know what to do either; they’d be as helpless as Cliopher.
“Help me,” his Radiancy begged, struggling to stay above the surface. The plea cut into Cliopher’s heart sharper than any knife. “Help me. Don’t let them take me."
"Can you swim, my lord?” Cliopher tried, desperate. “We need to get you out of the water.”
"Cliopher!" And in that word, so much fear, distress, desperation,
Cliopher gasped in his own breath, terrified but knowing there was no other decision to make. He couldn’t, wouldn’t watch his lord die when he could help. “I’m here, my lord,” he said, trying to convey assurance. “Hold on. I’ll get you to shore.” And Cliopher swam until he was within his Radiancy’s reach.
His lord’s eyes went wide, panicked. “No! I can’t. I can’t.” He kicked himself away, arms flailing. His head slipped under the water again. This time, he didn’t resurface immediately.
Cliopher didn't wait. Decision already made, he took as deep a breath as he could in a moment and dove down. Eyes stinging with salt, he quickly picked out his Radiancy. Then, he did something he never imagined he would ever do: he reached out and grabbed his Radiancy's arm.
Something—energy, magic, he didn’t know—poured through him at the touch. Pain surged down his arm and through his chest. His heart stuttered. Cliopher blinked, completely disoriented, but he refused to let go. Somewhere in his mind, he realized they were still below the surface—that his lord at least must need air. Whatever the ramifications for him, he had to get his Radiancy to the shore. He thrust his worries aside, pulled his lord’s arm over his shoulder, then kicked as best as he could towards the surface.
As their heads came out of the water, his Radiancy drew in a sharp, pained breath. "Cliopher," he gasped, word laced with excruciating pain.
Cliopher refused to shudder under the press of the magic wracking his body, tightened his grasp on his lord to give what support he could. "I have you, my lord. Trust me. Hold on."
His Radiancy's arms circled around Cliopher's waist, clinging to him for dear life. Before they could sink again, Cliopher twisted so his Radiancy's back was against his chest, his lord's hands tight on his arms. "Relax, my lord. I have you. I won't let you go."
His Radiancy struggled for another moment. "Don't let them take me," he begged then, words barely a breath.
"I won't," Cliopher promised. "Trust me. I've got you."
Cliopher felt his Radiancy relax in his hold, realized he'd gone entirely limp. "My lord?" he managed. There was no response. "My lord!"
Refusing to panic, Cliopher adjusted his grip on his lord, then kicked hard toward the shore, towing his Radiancy as fast as he could manage. It was a slow process, endless—and he had barely enough breath to keep going. Crackling magic resonated through his skin and his bones. His chest ached. His head wanted to split apart. But all he had to do was make it to the shore. Once there, his lord would be safe. All he had to do was make it there.
His thoughts narrowed to that singular focus until a voice—a too close voice—said, "Sayo Mdang! Can I help?"
Cliopher turned his head sideways to find Zerafin swimming close enough to touch, to help. But Cliopher had already blown all sense of propriety and taboo out of the water. He would not force that on another, especially not one so darned young.
"No!" Cliopher said, breath heaving hard, wishing desperately he could say yes but knowing he could not. His fear blazed hot and sharp, his Radiancy's magic a tidal wave surging though him, filling his words with command. "I have him."
"Yes, my Lord," Zerafin said reflexively.
***
The swim back to shore took minutes, hours, forever. But between one moment and the next, Cliopher felt sand beneath his feet, heard people calling directions. Eyesight muddled, wobbly, wrong, he used the voices as a guide as he half-dragged his Radiancy up the beach, cursing his small stature and lack of strength.
"We have a blanket. Lay him down, Cliopher," someone directed. Ludvic.
Cliopher stared down at the sand, taking too long to differentiate the darker colour sitting above it: the blanket. He let his knees collapse under him, cradling his lord through the fall before settling him down on the blanket. For a moment, Cliopher could only be grateful that he’d made it—just as he’d sworn he would—but then he realized his role wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t stop now. He pressed himself up, then reached over to his Radiancy to feel for a pulse. He moved his fingers around for a few moments, hoping he was simply feeling in the wrong place, but there was nothing. Drawing in a sharp breath, Cliopher shifted downwards and placed his hands carefully on his Radiancy's unmoving chest. He thrust down several times, hoping he was remembering the movements correctly. His lord’s chest still unmoving, Cliopher shifted back to his head, lifted it up carefully and repositioned it. He bent his head close, hoping to feel even a light puff of breath on his cheek.
There was nothing.
Unsure what to do, Cliopher remembered that in some cases it was right to give the unbreathing person a breath. He froze, staring down at his lord’s slightly open lips. But he’d already broken the greatest taboo of them all. What was another?
He took a deep, shuddering breath, then pressed his own mouth against his Radiancy's, and released it. He did it a second time, then gave his lord’s chest several more thrusts.
“Don’t go, my lord!" he begged, demanded, ordered.
His Radiancy was still there, Cliopher knew it. Felt it. His Radiancy's magic continued to burn through him. If his lord were dead, that wouldn’t—couldn’t—be possible as Cliopher had no magic at all. "Don't you dare leave me, my lord," he cried, eyes stinging with tears.
Below Cliopher’s hands, his Radiancy’s chest moved. Then he gasped and began to cough explosively.
Cliopher let out a sigh of relief, allowed himself to fall backwards onto his butt in the sand, dazed and dizzy and distraught. His hands trembled, not that he could feel them. He could barely feel anything.
His Radiancy's coughing turned to more regular breaths, and then his gaze turned directly to Cliopher. Their eyes met across the small stretch of sand separating them—and in his lord’s eyes were shock, and wonder, and magic. Sizzling magic that felt like static on Cliopher’s skin.
"Cliopher?" His Radiancy's voice was incredibly weak.
"We should get you back to the house, my lord," Cliopher said, somehow finding the power to get to his feet. He stretched his hand out, but his Radiancy did nothing but stare. "Take it my lord. Let me help you.”
His Radiancy, confused and uncertain, finally did so, accepting Cliopher’s hand tentatively. When there was no visible reaction, he tightened his grip, surprise apparent as he stared at Cliopher with his too bright lion eyes.
Focused only on getting his Radiancy somewhere safe, Cliopher hauled him to his feet, then tugged his lord’s arm over his shoulder. "Hold on, my lord.”
His Radiancy wrapped his other arm around Cliopher's chest. The magic surged through Cliopher again, but he refused to be bowed by it. He accepted it in and channeled it into helping him stand strong, keep upright under his Radiancy's weight.
Cliopher had no thought for their watchers, his entire focus only on his Radiancy and on every slow, stumbling step towards the house. But he knew they were there. Ludvic and Rhodin, fearfully concerned. Conju, shocked. The other guards, watchful and assessing—except for Varro who was helping Zerafin dress.
As they approached the deck, Cliopher tightened his grip on his lord. "Careful of the steps, my lord." His Radiancy clenched him tightly as they navigated the stairs.
Conju hurried ahead of them to open the door. Cliopher couldn’t find a breath to say thank you, simply guided his lord through the sitting room and down the hallway towards the bedrooms. Conju got ahead of them again, pulling the door to his Radiancy's room open to let Cliopher and his Radiancy pass through unimpeded.
Cliopher lowered his Radiancy into a sitting position on the bed—only then noticing all the sand clinging to his skin. That would in no way be comfortable. "Conju? Can you get a towel?" he asked softly.
His friend ducked out of the room, returning quickly with a towel and offering it to Cliopher. He took it carefully, using it to buff the sand away as best he could. His Radiancy’s skin was somehow already dry so it only took a few minutes. Finished, he set his hand on his lord’s shoulder. "You need to rest my lord."
"Cliopher," his Radiancy whispered, worriedly. But he dutifully let Cliopher lift his feet and tuck them under the blanket. "Cliopher."
Cliopher met his lord’s eyes, felt the surge as his Radiancy’s magic—bright and powerful despite his infirmity—cascaded through him, through them. Strong and piping hot like air and fire and lightning. He glanced away, but the magic still danced across his vision, blinding his eyes with colour and movement. He faltered, dizzy and disoriented. Slid down to his knees at the side of his lord’s bed.
"Cliopher!" The cry was high pitched and anxious—Conju. Cliopher feel the air move as his friend rushed across the room.
"Don't!" His Radiancy’s voice cut through the room sharply, uncompromising. The order brought Conju to a sudden halt. Cliopher knew it, even if he couldn’t see it. "Don't touch him!"
Cliopher buckled under the press of relief, and exhaustion, and his lord’s magic—which still hadn’t dissipated and he had no idea what to do with. The floor was cool under his knees, soothing, inviting, welcoming. He slid down until his back was resting on the floor. He looked towards the ceiling, vision full of swirls of air and colour, motion, and emotion. Shock. Concern. Fear. Devastation.
Reflexively, Cliopher offered a counterpoint. Commitment. Loyalty. Acceptance. Love. His Radiancy was alive and safe. Nothing else mattered. He didn't matter. Cliopher let his eyes close, satisfied.