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A tentative knock at the door brought Xander from the hellscape of his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how long he could continue to follow King Garon’s orders, especially when they meant murdering innocent women and children for suspected treason. Their final expressions of terror were imprinted on the back of his eyelids and no matter what he tried to do they refused to leave.
“Come in,” he said, head in his hands.
“Milord, you haven’t left your quarters in six hours, I thought I’d check up on you,” Laslow said.
Xander looked up and saw the young man smiling at him, concern hidden beneath his familiar grin.
“Thank you for your concern Laslow, but I’m fine,” Xander replied, as much as he enjoyed the company of his flirtatious retainer, he was not in the mood for a friendly chat.
“Lord Xander, everyone is worried about you. You missed dinner, it’s nearly the middle of the night and you are sitting at your desk with your head in your hands. What kind of retainer would I be if I didn’t worry about you?” Laslow said. Xander half expected him to be making insincere jests, but the sincerity behind Laslow’s words seemed to soften the hard lines on Xander’s brow.
“Laslow, it truly warms my heart to know that you care so much about my wellbeing, but there is nothing to worry about. I just have a few things on my mind at the moment.”
“I don’t know about you Milord, but if I have something on my mind, I find it relaxing to go practice my dancing, it is a good distraction.”
“I do not dance,” Xander said firmly, there were many things he would be willing to do, but dancing was not one of them.
“Well, what about sparring? It could help to get nasty thoughts out of your pretty head,” Laslow said with a grin.
“Did you just call me pretty?”
“Absolutely not sir,” Laslow replied, Xander frowned. He felt no desire to touch his sword that was soaked in blood earlier that morning, but beating the smug smile off of Laslow’s face was just the remedy he needed.
An hour later, Xander found himself out of his usual armor, dressed in underclothes with a blunt sword in his hand. Across from him, Laslow was dressed similarly, also holding a dulled practice blade. With a smirk, Laslow shot forward.
Xander knew Laslow would use his speed to his advantage, and blocked his initial attack. Xander had strength and defense on his side, and his parry stunned Laslow for only a split second, where he then swung to hit Laslow’s side, which was blocked with ease. Their blades moved quicker, and were met just as quickly. As Laslow blocked a blow headed for his neck, Xander could only see the screaming face of a child as he brought his blade down to silence his crying. His father’s laughs echoed in his mind as he heard a mother’s scream. His blade dropped to the ground as he clutched his head to make the screaming stop.
He began to yell as the flames consuming the town grew closer to him, his body getting overwhelmingly hot, and when he looked at his hands all he could see was blood. A voice called to him from a distance, but he couldn’t hear it over the screaming.
“Good work Xander. You will make a fine King someday,” King Garon’s deep voice said, and Xander felt his body tense up just thinking about it.
“Xander... Xander…” the voice shifted from his father’s stern voice to one filled with fear, “Xander!”
He opened his eyes and saw Lasow looking at him fearfully, shaking his shoulders to bring him back. He felt his eyes get watery as the screams subsided and the ambient sounds of the night filled his senses.
“I apologize Milord. You froze up and started yelling and I,” he paused for a moment, composing himself, “I didn’t know what to do.” His voice was broken and full of worry, and Xander suddenly felt bad.
“Laslow, you are not just my retainer, you are my friend. As my friend, I tell you this in complete confidence,” Xander sat up and moved so he was sitting beside Laslow, “King Garon often has me carry out justice in ways he sees fit. In all honesty, I see no reason as to why innocent women and children have to be killed for the sake of justice, but Father sent Hans to make sure the deed was done, and I had no choice.”
“By the Gods,” Laslow said under his breath, but Xander continued.
“A minute ago I was paralyzed because I didn’t see you anymore, I saw the face of a child I had to… to…” Xander’s voice cracked.
“Milord,” Laslow leaned closer for support and felt Xander lean on him as he continued.
“I could hear his mother behind me, there was fire everywhere as Hans set fire to all the buildings, it was suffering on both our sides. I have only ever wanted to be a leader to help people lead peaceful lives. I fail to see a future where I become a King who has the trust of his subjects, who has their respect. I wouldn’t deserve it anyway, not with the things I’ve done.” Xander hid his head in his hands once more, guilt tearing him apart from the inside.
Laslow gulped, he had never seen the prince so vulnerable, so exposed. The closest he came to seeing him anywhere near this vulnerable was when he accidentally walked in on the Prince while he was changing and caught a glimpse of a perfectly muscles back and arms, free from clothing or armor.
He cursed himself when the very thought of it made his face flush. To distract his mind, he tried to say something comforting.
“You are not the one to blame, you were simply following orders, and if you would have disobeyed then you would’ve been in trouble. Xander, you would never do something so evil of your own desire, the fact that you resent your actions shows you’re still a good man,” Laslow said, and moved to put his arm around Xander only to regret his decision immediately. The second his arm wrapped around Xander’s hunched form all he could feel was solid muscle.
He felt his face burn as he couldn’t exactly move his hand, because he could feel Xander relaxing at his touch. Despite that thought going completely to his head, he kept his hand there. Laslow found himself taking a certain comfort from it as well, and he found his hand moving in small circles on Xander’s back, and found out two things. One, Xander seemed to relax further and made no move to stop him and two, the muscles on his back were just as impressive as the ones on his shoulder. He found himself wanting to run a hand all down his back, exploring the muscles and scars as the other tangled in the tousled blond curls as his face leaned closer…
His hand froze and he blinked rapidly. Did he just imagine himself in a compromising situation with the High Prince of Nohr?
Xander moved his head slightly to see why Laslow had stopped, his serious gaze framed with messy hair. Laslow felt his stomach do a flip.
He was most definitely imagining himself in a compromising situation with the High Prince of Nohr. “Thank you for your kind words Laslow,” Xander said, breaking the silence between them.
“Of course Milord,” Laslow choked out, trying to keep his heart rate under control.
“I know that what I’m doing is wrong. I would never do this to anyone if I was given a choice. But I know that if I ever refused, my father would kill me on the spot,” Xander said, putting his face in his hands once again. Laslow’s heart bled, and he moved to rub his back again, the thoughts of his muscles leaving his mind.
“Sometimes I wonder whether it would be better for me to accept my father’s judgement than live with the guilt,” Xander said quietly, and Laslow froze. He wracked his brain trying to find a safe way to proceed.
“Milord, you can’t think like that. If anyone has any power to change anything, it’s you. As hard as it may be to live with the guilt, as much as those people deserved life, think of how many more lives would be at risk if there is no one like you to stop him?” Laslow offered. He let out a breath when Xander seemed to relax again.
“I suppose I just have to keep up hope. Whether Father goes back to being the honorable man he once was or falls from power. Thank you Laslow, truly. I haven’t ever been able to open up with someone this way before,” Xander said, looking at him with a kind smile. It was a rare occasion to see him smile, but it brought a smile to Laslow’s face as well. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Xander wrapped an arm around Laslow and pulled him into his chest in an awkwardly-positioned hug. Laslow found his face pressed up against Xander’s abs as he realized three things at the same time.
One, Xander was one of the warmest people he had ever hugged. Two, he felt more comfortable in Xander’s arms than he had in all his time in Nohr, that he hadn’t felt this safe in years. Three, Xander was the most attractive man Laslow had ever seen, or rather, been smothered by. The hug continued for a while until Xander spoke up.
“Laslow, your heart is beating quickly. Is something wrong?”
“Ah…” Laslow jumped up, face burning and sweat beading on his forehead, “Nothing is wrong. How are you feeling? Better at all? Maybe we should keep sparring to help. Not to say that you aren’t great at handling swords! Wait, that’s not what I meant, I mean that you are skilled at stabbing things!” By the end of his speech there was actual sweat beading down Laslow’s face as he looked anywhere but at Xander’s confused gaze.
“Laslow, are you well?” Xander asked, genuine concern in his voice.
“I’m f-fine Milord!” he replied and tried to make eye contact. He failed miserably.
“Come then, let us spar, and hopefully I will move past what I have done,” Xander replied sadly as he picked up a practice blade. Once again, Laslow was struck with further guilt, how could he be developing feelings on his friend who was looking for emotional support? He couldn’t let himself get carried away with such feelings, it was better to put them on hold.
Until Xander took his shirt off.
“The night air is getting rather muggy and hot, I can fight like this just the same,” Xander said as if it was nothing.
Laslow gulped and felt his cheeks burn even hotter.
There was no more fighting the urge to look, he was weak in the knees upon seeing all of Xander’s muscles in their full glory. From the movement of his arms as he twirled his sword around, to the abs that could sharpen a sword, Laslow felt like he had been punched in the gut.
“No, no, no, no, no, Laslow, now is not the time to be thinking about these things!” he thought.
“Laslow, I thought you meant to spar with me?” Xander asked with a small smile, and Laslow nearly fainted.
“Yes Milord!” he squeaked.
“This is not fair at all,” Laslow muttered under his breath.
“Did you say something, Laslow?”
“No Milord!”
With a powerful lunge, the fight resumed. As distracting as a shirtless Xander was, once he fell into the rhythm of battle, Laslow felt some of his focus return. Blow after blow, swords crossed and Laslow was enjoying himself even more. Xander was less aggressive with his strikes, most likely under the belief that Laslow was not well, and Laslow was able to parry them easily.
It didn’t take long for Xander to notice, and finally things began to speed up. Laslow’s feet moved faster as he tried to outmaneuver Xander, but the latter was skilled at holding his position.
It became less of a match between two friends, and more of a dance. Laslow was leading it, spinning back and forth as he made strike after strike, each parried by Xander. As Xander realized how much fun Laslow was having, he made a few more offensive moves to try and throw him off-balance, but it was ineffective. It was moments like this that Xander was reminded of the young man who showed up out of nowhere and nearly beat him in a duel.
Laslow couldn’t keep a smile from his face, he was in his element, feet moving him back and forth as he dodged every blow Xander threw his way, caught in the euphoria of spending time with someone he cared about, hoping that his smile would help heal the scars that Garon had left. The dance moved faster and faster as Xander felt driven to stop the dancer in his tracks, even though he felt himself smiling back during some moments. He tried to match Laslow’s steps in an effort to gain the upper hand, but Laslow was faster. Xander found himself backing up as Laslow pushed forward, and finally he was backed up against a tree facing Laslow with a grin that nearly split his face in half. It angered Xander that he was beaten, but seeing the happiness it brought Laslow, he couldn’t be mad at all. If anything, he was feeling better than he had all week.
“Feeling better Milord?” Laslow said, face flushed and breathing heavily. Xander couldn’t help but stare and wonder what it would feel like to get rid of the smirk on Laslow’s face with a kiss. Did he just think about kissing his retainer?
“I see that you are,” Xander replied, and enjoyed the reaction it elicited from Laslow as his eyes got wide and he nearly choked. Yes, he was most certainly thinking about kissing his retainer.
“I… uh… I just really got into it… Wait, no… I meant… Good fight,” he finished, his voice an octave higher than when it started.
“Indeed it was, you are quite skilled Laslow,” Xander replied, and smirked back as his retainer backed up and sputtered more, nearly tripping over his feet that just a moment ago were as light and agile as a dancer’s.
“Laslow, watch out for…” Xander said as Laslow backed up in a different direction. Xander saw the rabbit hole before Laslow did but before he could warn him, Laslow found it. He landed with an ungraceful thud.
“Laslow!” Xander called and rushed to his side, “Are you okay?”
A muffled groan was his only reply. Xander rolled Laslow onto his back and saw him reaching for his foot.
“Dammit, my ankle hurts, I think I’ve injured it,” he said, moving to test it with his hand.
“Here, let me help you to the infirmary,” Xander said, and Laslow squawked. He was a grown man! He would be able to deal with a bruised ankle.
“Let me try and walk on it,” Laslow said and moved to get up. Xander gave him a hand, and Laslow tried not to blush as he took his hand. His good mood faded when he put weight on the affected foot and toppled to the ground once more.
“Laslow!” Xander said, and moved to help him once more. Laslow brushed his help away. Of all the parts to injure it had to be his ankle. He practiced dancing at least every night, would that be impossible now? What if he forgot the dance his mother taught him? That was what he practiced, making sure he never forgot it, always trying to keep her memory alive. If he wasn’t able to dance…
Xander began to panic when he saw tears form in Laslow’s eyes. The injury hadn’t looked that severe, so why was he crying?
Laslow hated that he felt tears coming on. He hated the lump in his throat and the choking noise that came out of his throat. He felt like a child, crying in front of the one person he didn’t want to. It was true that Xander had opened up to him just a few minutes earlier, but Laslow was not just injured, but disheartened. His one skill, his one escape from the horrors of the world was dancing. It was his passion, and now it had been taken from him.
“Xander… I won’t be able to dance on an injured leg,” Laslow sounded so sad, but Xander felt touched. A man who had gone through horrors he hadn’t even mentioned, was now crying over a simple foot injury? It did not surprise him, Laslow was a highly emotional person, he was outgoing, and he was opposite of Xander in so many ways. Xander would never cry over something so trivial, but the fact that something small like this mattered so much to Laslow…
“Xander what are you doing?” Laslow asked as Xander bent down next to him. He was ashamed of the sound he made when Xander’s strong arms went under him and lifted him off the ground like a leaf. It wasn’t until Laslow found himself curled into his warm, extremely attractive chest, that Laslow felt like death would be a better alternative than this. When he finally found his voice, his words came out high-pitched and pathetic-sounding,
“What’s going on?”
“I’m taking you to the infirmary,” Xander said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It took another minute for Laslow to gather his words and keep his hands from caressing the lines on Xander’s chest.
“I’m sorry Xander. I know you wanted to spar with me, and I was the one who was supposed to be helping you…”
“Relax Laslow, I am not mad. If anything, I apologize for any part I may have played in your injury,” Xander said, and Laslow was taken aback. It was never Xander’s fault, it was simply his own. So why then was he placing the blame on himself? Apologizing after he had done nothing wrong baffled Laslow greatly.
“It’s not your fault I was clumsy on my feet; you’ve done nothing wrong Milord.”
“Laslow, you were anything but clumsy. It was mesmerizing watching you fight, I would love to see you dance sometime,” Xander said sincerely. Laslow tried not to curl further into his arms and failed. His face had remained bright red since being picked up by Xander, and it was only then that he snuck a look up at Xander’s face, only to see him looking right back at him wearing a smile that was warmer than any other he had seen that night. The tenderness of his expression hit somewhere deep within Laslow, beyond the flirting, beyond the outer layer of carelessness he constantly portrayed.
He felt Xander’s arms cradling his back and his legs, and it was so small he might have imagined it, but he could’ve sworn he felt Xander’s grip tighten as their eyes met. He never would have imagined being in Xander’s arms was so blissful, but it was. Also his arms were not just for show, the ease with which Xander had picked him up and the weightlessness he felt in his arms was true happiness, and Laslow didn’t want to leave.
Before reaching the inside of the castle, Laslow looked up again and saw Xander’s brow was furrowed and his expression was not as free as it had been before.
“Xander?”
“Yes Laslow?” he replied, and as soon as his gaze shifted back to him, the crease above his eyes disappeared.
“Thank you for carrying me,” Laslow said while trying to keep his face from blushing, again.
“Of course Laslow,” Xander said with a warm smile.
Laslow wasn’t sure what to think. Xander’s embrace was warm and comfortable, his smile made his heart melt, and he was content to be right where he was. For once girls were the farthest thing from his mind, he was not worried about being discovered, wasn’t worried about what was happening in his homeland while he was gone, he was happy to be curled up in Xander’s arms, even if he wouldn’t be able to dance for a while.
“My real name is Inigo,” he blurted out without thinking. Xander stopped in his tracks. For ages he had been suspicious of Laslow’s true identity, but to hear it from his own lips…
“Inigo?” he asked, testing the word in his mouth. It sounded weird, entirely different than Laslow, and he wondered why he had kept it hidden.
“Please, don’t tell anyone about it. Especially not Odin or Selena,” Inigo finished, ashamed at his slip of the tongue.
“I won’t breathe a word of it, I just have a few questions. Why keep it hidden? Why not go by Inigo, and why Odin or Selena? What do they have to do with it?”
“It’s a long story, but we’re not from here. I’ll tell you all about it someday, just not now,” Inigo said. Xander wanted to push it, but the crestfallen look on Inigo’s face kept him from asking any further questions.
“As you wish, Inigo,” Xander said, at the mention of his name, Inigo looked up at Xander. He saw that Inigo was scared, there was no more happy-go-lucky smile. Since he was unable to do much more, Xander lifted Inigo up and brought his forehead to his in reassurance.
“I don’t know why you hide your name Inigo, but I can promise to keep it secret from everyone else. I trust you, and I know that even though you have not told me of your past, I know that you would never go against me,” Xander said, and Inigo wrapped his arms around his neck.
“Thank you, Milord. I will not fail you,” Inigo replied around a lump in his throat.
He kept his arms around Xander as they arrived at the infirmary, and it was only once the nurse helped him limp over to a bed did he leave Xander’s side. His ankle was healed and he spent the night in the infirmary, much to his annoyance. When he woke up the next morning though, he noticed a bouquet of flowers by his bedside with a small note beside them,
Sorry about your ankle
X
The note brought a smile to his face and he saw that the flowers were freshly cut and watered, each a deep blue color. Indigo.
As he looked up at the flowers, he felt his chest soaring. Xander had brought him indigo flowers before he had awakened, Xander had visited him, and Inigo felt a sort of elation he hadn’t felt before. Once he identified this strange feeling his eyes went wide and he clapped a hand over his mouth so he didn’t blurt anything out loud.
He was in love with Xander.