overjoyed_logs | [OPEN] oh, the king

Entry tags:

[OPEN] oh, the king

Who: Sion & You!
Where: The Meshwork.
When: The duration of Chapter 4!
Summary: Dream catch all! From casting spells and engaging in shenanigans to escape match-meetings, to talking to your "other self", Sion's dreams are sporadic???
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, spoopy imagery, possible (literal) self-sacrifice...!!

❶ You are running for the love of it.
❷ You sink and you cannot breathe, air catching in the throat and refusing to reach the lungs.
❸ You are happy.
❹ You tread upon a pathway comprised entirely of dango.

( all dreams are OTA and written in second person, Sion's POV. tags will be returned in regular third person! feel free to PM or contact me here if you'd like something specific. o9 )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Julius settles and Sion shifts to meet him, the tall grasses of their flower bed rustling with the motion of the King resting his head atop Julius' lap. ]

One might argue that trees are the farthest from 'pure'. Trees are the lungs of the land, purifying the air and giving fresh strength to our people, and by doing so--...

[ Giving pause, Sion opens his eyes, their liquid color seeking out a familiar grey. ]

They become tainted themselves. Corruption becomes trapped in their leaves; in their bark.

[ And then a hand lifts, gently molding to the curve of the other man's jaw in a too-tender touch. ]

But such is the nature of noble and just sacrifice.

Ah, but their hearts are pure. That is what matters... what drives their deeds.

[ He doesn't move when Sion touches him, expression firm but not devoid of emotion, merely thoughtful. ]

More humans should be like them.

You do not know it?

[ Here, there is an amused loft of brow, Sion's hand falling away from Julius' face if only to muffle the gentle sound of his own laughter. ]

Trees are human. [ —human, the word falls from the King's lips with a sovereign resonance, a hum which is fathomless, primordial, and deep. ] And all things human are trees.

All living things, be they creatures or plants, are comprised of the very same magic, therefore...! Each and every denizen of Menoris is pure of heart.

[ To begin with, but this the King does not say. ]

[ Menoris, not Earth. He does not know what the word is in this dream, but as long as it's not the accursed place he comes from - ]

Yes, of course. I should not have doubted that.

[ A good place, but by that virtue he cannot stay here lest his curse spreads. ]

[ It is a breathtaking place, Menoris. And the country of Roland—the King of which rests comfortably, yet, atop Julius' lap—has changed vastly over the years. Once fraught with corruption, Roland's people were oppressed, subjugated by Sion's own Lord Father and the draconian law he upheld. But those days, of course, are no more. When Sion had been crowned King some three years ago, he had become an agent of change, his will arching across the country as the boughs of trees might extend toward the sky, purifying all in its wake.

Perhaps Julius has heard them in the streets, the voices of the people who would proclaim "As long as his Majesty Sion Astal watches over the kingdom, we might all find our happiness!"

And so: Roland has transformed into an idyllic kingdom which houses a resilient people and a gentle King, Sion who--...

Seems reluctant to part from his friend, in his state of repose.

(It is as though he fears Julius might fade away.) ]

Mn. That's why this realm needs to be saved. Though the magic which gave life to the trees and the grass, to humans and to love, was woven with sinister intent... [ The intent of keeping both the Hero and his Demon trapped within it it. ] ...it birthed something beautiful. Something precious and in need of protecting.

[ Idle, the King's fingers curl in the fabric of Julius' cloak, seeing purchase there as he speaks with an airy cadence, words falling featherweight and light— ]

One day, all that you see before you will fall into jeopardy, and the only way to ensure its survival will be to end my own life.

[ But he is at peace with it; it's okay, it's all right. ]

So you see, in knowing this, how could I possibly in good conscience take a wife? I tire of the match-meetings my retainers would have me attend. I think I must have fled twenty-some this week alone.

Though... [ A twitch of his lips, a smile as bright as the noonday sun. ] It is the very first time I have absconded from one such engagement only to make a pillow of a dear friend.

[ Much of this passes entirely over Julius' head, he being a stranger and knowing little of this kingdom and its ways. But what Sion speaks of needs no deep knowledge to understand - a simple principle. ]

Of course. It is unfortunate that they do not understand.

[ A smile comes difficult to him, but in response is a lightening of his eyes. ]

You deserve to rest.

Even if by doing so this humble King shall make you his captive? [ —he teases, pleased to find the suggestions of brightness in Julius' expression. It has always been there, regardless of time or place, that understated warmth which tempers Sion's own emotions, the sentiments which so flare brightly in their intensity. The love which Sion feels for his people, his country, this realm... it is a beacon of light vivid enough to captivate anyone; to grant him strength enough for the undertaking he must see through to fruition on a day which drifts closer and closer which each turn of this world toward its doom.

(He's glad, that Julius understands. His friend's quiet acceptance grants him strength, too.) ]

And if we are found, will you spirit me away from my none too pleased retainers?

Edited 2017-03-25 16:41 (UTC)

No one will expect me anywhere. My time is yours.

[ After all, to most people, he does not exist. He is a shadow that hides in the forest, a cloaked man with skin of white trees, eyes of golden leaves. ]

I may not be a fast runner, but I will certainly try my best.

Mine.

[ How strange it feels, to echo Julius' own sentiment, the words my time is yours eliciting a measure of uncertainty in the King who is so often just, bold, and decisive on behalf of so very many that he is left bewildered by all matters concerning himself; by this pledge which hasn't been made to the crown he wears, but to the person he is (and will never return to being, once the Hero has woken up). ]

I do not know what it is that I have done to be worthy of such a steadfast, truehearted friend, but I am grateful, Julius. [ From where he lies, Sion seeks to take Julius' hand, palm pressing flush to palm and fingers lacing together in an artful, profound gesture which is somehow as heartbreaking as it is an expression of their camaraderie. ] I am glad for you, and...

[ Here, the King's smile dips into something close to the realm of mischievous: ]

...this tryst of ours. In the days to come, will you continue to meet me here?

[ Julius is quiet, his eyes half-lidded for a moment as he thinks, his words careful when he does speak. ]

You have accepted me, despite my curse. That alone is enough.

[ A curse that will one day tear him apart, so he must be far, far away when it happens. But they still have time. ]

I will confine myself to this forest. You know where to find me.

Then... Here, where the castle's grounds meet with the forest's edge, beneath the white-bark Aspen trees with leaves as golden as the dawn--...

[ His fingers curling about Julius' own in a squeeze, Sion finds that, more and more, the contact feels like a true connection; the completion of a link. ]

It will be our place until our days are done.

[ Eyes falling slowly closed, Sion's lashes fan silver against the curve of his cheek even as a gentle smile—fulfilled but melancholy, happy and yet touched by a sorrowful wish that at least Julius might escape the tragic fate that accompanied his curse—plays upon his lips. ]

...and perhaps even long after that, for I cannot imagine a time when we do not know one another, or a future where we are parted for long.

You're very poetic.

[ Said slightly amused while he sits unmoving as if a statue, the motion coming easily to he who would become a tree in time. ]

There is little else I can do save for stay here and wait. I only wish I could have helped more.

More?

[ Though his eyes remain closed, it is an easy thing, to glimpse the furrow of the King's brow; the disagreement with Julius' words that he needn't voice to make known. ]

How is it that you might have done more? You are here, you are present, and you are the one holding my hand. You...

[ Slowly, but surely, Sion's voice softens, drowsiness finally beginning to claim him: ]

...needn't feel at fault for simply being, Julius.

[ There are many things that he finds fault with in himself, but it's not the right occasion to voice it at all, no. ]

Then I will be here.

[ In both senses of the word. The 'with you' is left unsaid but implied. ]

Take a rest. I can wake you later.

[ There is the barest nod of Sion's head in response, the thick plait of his hair spilling across Julius' lap as he gives into sleep, knowing the cool shade of the tree grove which sheltered them, the warmth of close proximity, and the curl of Julius' fingers against his own until—...

He wakes in Company quarters, golden eyes slitting open and fingers flexing as though he'd expected to have another's hand in his own, his posture curled like there should have been someone there with him. ]

Julius...?

[ —his voice thick with sleep, the Enforcer's name is the first thing to come to mind, though Sion does not understand precisely why.

Still, he is awake, and there is work to do. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[OPEN] oh, the king

steeples fingers

this is so gay

idk what else you were expecting

ok thats true

no subject

no subject

no subject

this was so gay that i had to stop going to bed to reply to it

i do try

'tryst'

note: julius isn't contesting him

i'm laughing

no subject

no subject

no subject