Chapter Text
The fact that his new husband, Prince Logan of Teruma, very obviously had feelings for another man wasn't something that Janus considered a problem, per se...
Their match had, after all, been one made for solidly political reasons, in the hopes of securing peace between the kingdoms of Teruma and Dolumet. And, over the course of the two years after the match had first been broached by their parents, they had spent time in the other's company before agreeing to the arrangement their parents had made—though perhaps only just enough to confirm a minimum compatibility of temperament. After all, he and Logan each had their own duties, both to family and to their kingdoms, and so their visits had often, of necessity, been sporadic or brief. And while they had begun to spend even more time together as the date of the wedding drew near, amid every other part of the negotiations that had needed to be finalized—the necessary discussion of treaties, negotiation of exchanges, and of course the long and involved process of actually planning the expected, elaborate and very expensive wedding—there otherwise hadn't been much opportunity to build anything that could have been said to resemble actual feelings for one another.
Nor, truly, was it a problem that the particular object of Logan's affections was a friend of his...albeit one with whom relations had become...regrettably strained of late. Though it was certainly a further complication Janus thought he could have done without.
He supposed that this development shouldn't have come as a surprise, however. After all, even as Virgil had begun, gradually but unmistakably, to distance himself from Janus not long after his agreement to the marriage had been finalized, he had otherwise kept up the appearances of a loyal and devoted friend. Virgil's lesser station among the minor nobility had given him the freedom to travel when Janus could not, allowing him to make visits to Teruma more frequently. Early on during the negotiations, Virgil had acted as a go-between, delivering correspondence and presenting the expected gifts, when neither Logan nor Janus could afford to leave their duties to their respective kingdoms behind.
On the rare occasions that Logan was able to make the trip himself, Virgil had often acted as Janus's proxy, entertaining the visiting prince during his visits to Dolumet's capital whenever the obligations of court meant that Janus could not. It was therefore only natural that Virgil had come to know Logan far better than Janus had managed...and perhaps just as natural for Logan to find comfort in what was familiar now that he had left so much of his life behind in his homeland.
(Nor could he fault Logan in the slightest for his taste...after all, he and Virgil had been friends since childhood. Janus knew only too well that his virtues were many.)
No, the actual problem was that, now that he and Logan were officially wed, this was now an issue that was left hanging over all of their heads, unresolved.
Janus hated leaving loose ends. Loose ends, left untied, only ever seemed to lead to inevitable tangles and snarls further down the line. Something that was barely a problem, at present, was absolutely bound to become one if neglected for too long.
(After all, hadn't it been the mistake of leaving tensions unaddressed that had left his and Virgil's friendship in the state that it was?)
Now, ideally, Janus would have properly grasped this whole situation long before his wedding day. Unfortunately, the preparations of said wedding had been monopolizing a regrettable proportion of his attention for the past several months. If the signs had always been so obvious he had missed them nonetheless. And he thought he could be excused for missing the signs of Logan's...distraction, given they hadn't yet had the chance to become close, but he and Virgil had been very close, once, not even all that long ago. If only things had not become so difficult between them—Virgil's avoidance of him, bordering on seclusion, his own choice to ignore it, hoping he would come to him when he was ready—then Janus was sure he would have noticed it sooner...
Ideally, he would have noticed that Logan's affections were so, so obviously requited long before the man had said "I do" and Janus had watched dejection overtake Virgil's expression. Seeing the brief but decisive struggle as he tried to hide his obvious heartache was like watching his friend locking a piece of his own soul away, and Janus had felt his own heart ache at the realization. And though he had come to his own wedding prepared with other priorities in mind, he firmly decided that one of them had to be getting Virgil away from this crowd, so that he could talk to him at least once before the end of it.
If he had discovered it sooner, Janus would have had time to plan. He might have had a chance to confront either one of them when there were far fewer eyes prying into proceedings. He could have found a way to ask in private about their preferences in handling the delicate matter of their affections before the hurt could be allowed to fester. And Janus knew Virgil—he knew how he tended to stew on his thoughts and allow the very worst of them to gnaw at him. It was all too easy to imagine the damage that would be done by leaving Virgil alone with this—even more than he had already. And perhaps some of his neglect was long past helping, but it was the very least that Janus could do to spare Virgil the miserable experience of torturing himself in solitude on his and Logan's wedding night...
(Their relationship had grown fractured enough as it was, and Janus feared that leaving the roots of a resentment like that to grow and spread unchecked would be more than enough to shatter it completely.)
Of course, tracking Virgil down at the reception afterwards, as difficult as it was, had still been the easy part. No doubt the man would have chosen to leave much sooner if he thought he could get away with it, but Virgil always had been the more afraid, out of the two of them, of creating a scandal. But their friendship was a matter of record—indeed, their current difficulties were already the subject of a great deal of gossip—and there was no chance that leaving Janus's wedding sooner than was considered polite wouldn't inevitably be remarked upon. And then, of course, become fodder for even more speculation...
Speculation, he was beginning to realize, that Virgil may have been trying to avoid giving Janus the opportunity to make with his absence.
But, because of their friendship—and because Logan was already otherwise occupied in a dance with his mother at the moment—Janus knew that they could afford to get away for a brief moment in private before they would be forced to return to the festivities.
"Virgil," Janus greeted. "I'm going to get some fresh air outside. Walk with me?"
(And he knew that Virgil wouldn't be pleased about being approached from behind, as if it were an ambush, but he also knew that Virgil would certainly have tried to escape into the crowd if he had managed to see Janus coming...)
It was easy to see how conflicted Virgil was about the request. Normally, during a gathering of this sort, he would be grateful of any excuse to leave the crowd that might be remotely justified, and few things made for a better excuse than a direct invitation by the prince. Then again, on this particular night, Janus thought that Virgil might have preferred the company of nearly anyone else. Still, here they were in easy earshot of so many of the palace's servants, and if Virgil refused, then surely it would get around, because of course the people who knew his habits would begin to wonder why...
"Alright..." Virgil agreed, albeit reluctantly.
They didn't go far...there was a small drawing room just off the main gallery which overlooked the ballroom, one that had a balcony that, in turn, overlooked one of the palace's many gardens...and a balcony which was, itself, small enough to be overlooked by anyone outside hoping to spy or gawk from the palace grounds.
The guards that were accompanying Janus for the evening waited out in the hall, and without a word he and Virgil moved to the balcony. For a moment they each stood in silence, Janus trying to gather his courage to say what he knew was needed, and Virgil no doubt wondering what, if anything at all, he might have been meant to say. Unfortunately, as Janus should have expected, Virgil's nerves won out.
"Uh, congratulations, Your Hi-"
"Don't," Janus bit out, before he could manage to think better of it.
It was rude, and it wouldn't have been the right approach with anyone, but certainly not with Virgil. Unfortunately, just the thought of Virgil calling him Highness while they were alone together in private was already causing him to panic.
"Please, don't," he said, more softly. "I think- Let me go first, alright Virgil? I think...there are a few things I need to say."
Virgil stared back at him, clearly alarmed by the outburst. Wide-eyed, he finally gave Janus a nod.
"I'm sorry," Janus said, to start. And then, "I'm an idiot. Neither of us liked the idea of this marriage when it came up, especially before we knew of Logan's intention to move here in order to spend time at the university. And I know that you were, at least in part, instrumental in convincing him. You helped make him feel at home here in our kingdom when I was too busy and couldn't see to the task myself, and I owe you more than just my thanks for that..."
Janus paused, taking a breath.
"We both know I have a tendency to...try not to dwell on the things that are upsetting to me," Janus said. "And...we both know that it's almost impossible for you to avoid thinking about the things that bother you. And I know that I made a mistake in pushing away your original concerns about the match—even if your fears were eventually disproven, I never should have let you think that I was ignoring them. Or you."
Janus hated admitting to fault—given a choice, he'd prefer to chew sand—but when push came to shove, he could recognize when it was his job to grit his teeth.
"I was...dismissive of your objections to the marriage when I shouldn't have been," Janus admitted, "and for that I am truly sorry. And the last thing I wanted was for this night to end and for you to walk out that door without having acknowledged that. Because...I want things to be right with you. I need things to be right with you. And with...expectations relating to this marriage poised to change things, I didn't want to miss this chance to make amends."
Virgil was speechless for a moment, and Janus could tell he was sifting through his thoughts frantically searching for something to say. It was obvious that he either hadn't expected the apology, or that he hadn't expected it to come in the form that it had.
(Which Janus could hope simply meant that he hadn't expected it to come on the night of his wedding and not that Virgil might have written off their friendship to the point where he had convinced himself it wouldn't be coming at all.)
"I...don't know what to say," Virgil said eventually, haltingly. "I mean...I'm sorry too."
He didn't elaborate on what he was apologizing for, and he didn't need to. It wasn't as if either of them were unaware of the degree to which his attempts to withdraw had worsened the situation. When upset or burdened, Virgil had a tendency to run away while hoping in his heart that someone would follow, and usually Janus would have in his own time. Unfortunately, with the circumstances of the wedding demanding so much of him, Janus just...hadn't been able to manage it, and at that point no doubt Virgil had been afraid of reaching out on his own. Or worse, he may have managed to convince himself that Janus didn't care enough to follow this time. And Janus didn't know if he was even capable of the kind of vulnerability it would take to confess how much he cared—how much it had hurt to watch his friend pulling away—or how badly it had terrified him to think about losing him entirely...
Or, honestly, how much it still did.
"I forgive you," Janus said—because of course he had, it was never a question. And then, "Though...I won't ask you to forgive me just yet, and certainly not before I'm finished."
Virgil frowned, and Janus decided to simply continue.
"I should have seen it sooner," Janus said. "I certainly should have realized the situation was more serious than you had let on when you decided to vanish on me. And while I can't say that your...absence was of any particular help to me in working out the cause, I think I've finally figured out why the prospect of my marriage to Logan managed to upset you so much..."
"O-oh?" Virgil managed.
His voice sounded ever so slightly strangled, as it frequently did when he was on the edge of panic and trying, desperately, not to let it show. Janus offered him a smile that he hoped might be reassuring, though it was anyone's guess what Virgil might have read into it for the way he only grew more tense.
"I want you to know, first and foremost," Janus began, "that I'm not upset. It's quite alright that it happened. In fact, I suppose, looking back, that it was bound to happen, wasn't it, the way things played out? The time spent together...it's easy for feelings to develop, especially when the other's company is such an immense source of comfort. You were there for Logan whenever I couldn't be, and...and I assume he was there for you while I was only managing to make you feel ignored, and truly I'm glad that he was. It's...no wonder at all that you would become fond of him."
Virgil stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment as he struggled, first, apparently to find Janus's meaning and then to find his voice.
"I'm not- I mean- I don't-"
But whatever exact protest Virgil was trying to make, the sentence seemed doomed never to come together.
"Are you trying to deny that you have feelings for him?" Janus asked, more to lend him a hand in his struggle than anything else.
Though he supposed it must have come off as more accusing than he had meant, because as he watched the question visibly made Virgil cringe.
"I- No," Virgil said finally, weakly, wearily. "You're right. I...I do."
His confession sounded...oddly resigned, his voice faint, almost small. He sounded...defeated. Which was the last thing that Janus had wanted...
"I think you might be misunderstanding me," Janus said quickly. "I meant it when I said I was glad for you...for both of you. I've...had my suspicions for a while now that Logan may have developed some affections for you, but it didn't feel like it was my place with him to say anything. And it wasn't until the wedding itself that I had you around long enough to notice that you might feel the same way."
Virgil watched him a moment, uneasily, and he seemed to be debating something in his head.
"So, wait," he finally managed, "what exactly are you saying?"
"What I'm saying," Janus said, "is that you have my blessing if you wish to pursue Logan as a lover. And also that, if you'll permit, I intend to tell him the same."
"But you- I don't- Why?"
"Because I love you, Virgil," Janus said softly. "You're the best friend I've ever had, and...in spite of what our relationship has looked like of late, more than anything what I want is for you to be happy."
Virgil stood there, silently, for what felt like a very long stretch of time, tense in a way that made him think he was trying not to shake. And that was alarming enough on its own before the sheen of tears reached his eyes. Then, suddenly it seemed, Virgil's arms were around him, and his face buried against his shoulder.
Now it was Janus's turned to be stunned. Belatedly he mirrored the arms that had wrapped themselves around him and held his friend tight.
"Are you-" he was going to ask if he was crying, but the answer to that one seemed obvious. "Are you...alright?"
There was a sniff before Virgil finally brought himself out of hiding, giving Janus a tight smile.
"I'll be alright," he said, his voice somewhat hoarse. "And...thank you. For this and...for reaching out. I don't know if I was going to be able to work up the courage to try and...close the distance on my own."
Janus squeezed his shoulder but kept silent, preferring not to dwell on the thought of what might have happened if he hadn't now that the possibility was in their past. And he was ready for that to be it until Virgil spoke up again.
"I- You know I love you too, right?" Virgil asked him.
Though, oddly, he sounded a little heartbroken as he said it.
"Of course," Janus said, squeezing his shoulder once more. "And I'll have that conversation with Logan tonight, after we retire from the festivities. And I promise I won't move anything between us forward until the two of you have had the same chance to talk. Alright?"
"Right," Virgil said. "Alright."
Despite the heavy emotions still obviously weighing on his friend's shoulders, Janus left their conversation feeling so much lighter. And, when he returned to the wedding celebration and to his new husband's side, and greeted him with a smile, it felt like the first sincere expression that Janus had managed to offer him in months. Logan seemed to notice the shift almost immediately, and, never one to let his curiosity rest for long, he waited only for the chance at a moment to themselves before he saw fit to comment.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself at last," Logan remarked. "Has something momentous happened?"
Janus couldn't help but snort. One of the qualities he was most coming to enjoy about Logan's company was that understated sense of humor of his. The moments when he showed it were rare, but that only made him appreciate them more.
"You could say that," Janus answered, at first determined to be cryptic, but when Logan's curiosity only sharpened, he decided to give him a serious answer. "I spoke with Virgil."
His choice was immediately validated by his new husband's clear surprise.
"Oh?" Logan asked. And Janus thought he might also have been somewhat concerned as he was quick to follow up with: "I take it that your conversation went...well?"
"It did," Janus said, taking Logan's arm in his as they moved toward yet another room packed with even more nobles for them to greet and attempt to tolerate together. "I will tell you more about that later, of course. It...does concern you, more than just a little. But only good things, I promise."
Which Janus could tell only managed to intrigue Logan further, but unfortunately that was a conversation that would, of necessity, need to occur later.
(Not that Janus actually felt remotely guilty about leaving Logan to stew in his curiosity. Not when it would no doubt only serve to build his anticipation for the conversation to come...)