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The air was chill, the sun refracting blindingly from the bright snowy landscape, and yet the windows to the Painted Phoenix's office were thrown wide open. If Coaxoch was as prone to dramatics as his ward, he might say he couldn't even remember the last time he'd been allowed to leave the palace. Not that he was typically inclined to do so if not by Sabir's side or fulfilling his own duties. Being confined to his office and the royal wing was more suffocating than he had anticipated, but then it was supposed to be. His punishment - for 'interfering in the righteous duty of the Crown's military'. It had been worth it, though. He hadn't fully succeeded in defending the magic users from his people, but he wouldn't have been able to live with himself had he not tried.
At the very least, the house arrest enabled him to catch up on some of the paperwork that had been piling up on his desk. Coaxoch almost snorted at a thought that was uncharacteristically optimistic. Sabir would be proud.
Setting aside a request for funds to repair some of the property damage that had occurred during the skirmish - because of course he was expected to find the funds and not the crown and council who had forced the order through - he leaned back in his chair and reached for the glass of water on his desk. Better to take a break now, before the boiling in his blood intensified to the point that he set his office on fire. Rolling his shoulders back he felt his wings stretch out behind him, and brushed the hair that had fallen free of his ponytail out of his eyes. His hands were beginning to cramp, and his eyes to strain, with the number of documents he'd pored over that morning alone. His back ached from leaning over his desk for so many hours, but better here doing something than wasting time in his room. Already he knew there would be an angry red indent in his nose when he took off his mask tonight. There was that part of him that insisted he deserved a short break.
But then there was that other part.
The part of him that still chased his mother's approval, that still insisted that if he could just manage to reach the next achievement he would finally be enough for her.
The loudest voice in his head, as always, was the one that insisted he would never be enough. She would never love him and never had and he was nothing more than a weapon, nothing more than-
His hand slammed against the top of his desk with a bang that made the drawers rattle, and he shoved himself out of his seat and turned to the open window, to the cold air that wasn't even bracing or comforting any more through the fire in his veins. He leaned against the stone bannister anyway, breathing deeply in his attempt to steady himself. It was beneath the Painted Phoenix to allow himself to break, to allow someone to see him weak, to allow himself to weaken in the first place.
"The Queen was clear, nobody is to see him." The voice of one of the guards on the door was muffled, and Coaxoch tilted his head to listen, curious.
"Nobody?" He couldn't hide his smile at the second voice, and the faux-outrage contained within. "Am I to understand you're denying me access to my bodyguard two days before I require his attendance at an event? That you are keeping us from discussing details of a duty the Queen herself assigned to him?"
He could imagine the expressions on the guards' faces, and knew what the likely outcome would be even before the tentative knock sounded at the door.
"The Silven Viper to see you, Commander." The young voice sounded more like he was questioning than announcing, but then the door swung open regardless and Sabir strode in as though he had every right to disregard the Queen's direct orders, a large box held awkwardly on his hip.
"You're dismissed," he called over his shoulder as he entered.
It was an order he had absolutely no authority to give, and yet the two guards looked uncertainly to each other, and then to their Commander who made no effort to refute it, before they bowed and retreated, pulling the door closed behind them. Coaxoch waited for the muffled sounds of their retreating footsteps to fade completely before turning fully away from the window.
"Remind me to arrange additional training on proper protocol with the palace guard."
Sabir hummed innocently, lips quirked in a bright smile as he set the box down on the floor beside the desk.
"And here I thought you would appreciate my charms," he drawled.
Coaxoch watched him as he stepped around the desk, eyes bright behind his mask. How easily Sabir reached for him, as though he was something to be cherished, and not locked away until he was needed. As though he wasn't something made to tear and rend and hurt.
Fingers brushed featherlight against his shoulder, his hip, but Sabir was patient. He waited for the tension to drain from Coaxoch's body, for him to accept that the touch wasn't meant to hurt, for him to raise his arms to him in turn, before he held him more securely. Coaxoch swallowed down his uncertainty, his natural distrust, allowed himself to lean in enough that their lips brushed, that he could feel Sabir's smile.
"I'm always glad to see you, Sabir," he told him softly, nuzzling into the hand that raised to cup his cheek. "But I fear I make for poor company right now."
"You don't deserve this," his ward told him firmly, "but that you're going through it is all the more reason for me to be here with you." He leaned up to kiss him tenderly once more before pulling away. "Besides, I got you something to brighten your day."
"Got me something?" Coaxoch repeated uncertainly, grasping the key the other man had given him where it hung on a cord around his neck, thumb tracing the cool metal. He'd never been entirely comfortable with the attention and expectations that came with gifts, the strings that were typically attached. Sabir insisted that that didn't have to be the case with him, but that was a strange idea to grow accustomed to.
"You worry too much," his lover teased, hand falling away from his face as he moved back to his box. He moved to start sorting paperwork away from that corner of the desk, and The Commander flinched, striding forward to take them from him. He trusted Sabir not to be a risk to his sensitive data, but that didn't mean he trusted him with his 'erratic' sorting system, as Syfyn liked to call it.
The man himself took no offence to him taking over, turning instead to focus on opening the box he'd brought with him, which seemed to have been shipped in from outside.
"To bring a little sunshine into the life of the man who brings the sunshine into mine," he announced with a flourish, reappearing from behind his desk with a vase he recognised from their last visit to Ampston's. Safely tucked away inside he saw a small bouquet of sunflowers, and his eyes widened.
"How did you get those in the winter?" He leaned in to see, not daring to touch and risk harming them with his flames. Had he told Sabir they were his favourites? He must have done.
"Come now, dear one," Sabir grinned, sliding the vase onto the now clear space on the desk so that it was secure, "allow me some secrets."
Coaxoch couldn't help the smile that curled his lips. The flowers really did brighten the plain office. He'd never really dared decorate the space before. Esme said that most likely said something unfortunate about him, but he could never shake the thought that he was just borrowing something that was rightfully Omaren's.
"Thank you," he told him softly.
This time when they reached for each other they both held on tightly, and Coaxoch buried his face into the crook of his lover's neck. How did Sabir always know what to do, what to say, to make him feel better? Even when he felt sick things were so bad. He thought of the ring in the drawer by his bed, trying to ignore the voice in his head that screamed that he could never be good enough, even as he felt his claws catch in blue robes he was clutching them so tightly. His 'I love you' was mouthed into the skin of his neck. He didn't dare say it aloud, but he could've sworn Sabir squeezed him a little tighter in answer.