✿ THE HOUSE ✿
Adra's house is a cozy stone cottage on the outskirts of Caissa, close enough to the sea that one can hear the breaking waves throughout the day.
This afternoon, there's light, cool rain falling intermittently, tapping in a rhythm at the windows and roof. Fortunately, the kitchen is warm, bright, and welcoming. Its counters and tables are covered with freshly prepared foods of all kinds, and there are plenty of chairs for visitors who might like to sit and relax.
A door from the kitchen leads out into the garden, which is not quite yet fully landscaped, but which boasts a promising array of flowers (orchids, roses, lilies, tulips, etc) and herbs. Adra's also cultivating strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, and so on; the strawberries and cherries in particular are ripe for picking. Adra has strung enchanted, floating fairy lights all over the garden; they cast a soft, ethereal glow over the paths and carefully tended patches of greenery. At the garden's center, there's a clear pond filled with red and pink lotus blossoms.
Back inside, a visitor might like to rest in the den. There's a roaring fire in the hearth, and sitting near it for a short while offers a boost to the weary spirit. Soft, plush chairs and couches fill this room, making it ideal for lounging. The tables are covered with books borrowed somewhat indiscreetly from the library; they deal largely with the magic and history of Enprise.
Adjacent to the den is Adra's study. In here are half-empty bookshelves and antique rolling desk covered with neat stacks of papers, boxes of quills, and numerous pots of ink, each one in different, brilliant colors. His journal is somewhere here, too ...
Finally, down the hall one will find a half bathroom and, across from that, the door to the second bedroom--belonging to one Gilgamesh. The master bedroom, belonging to Adrasteius, is at the end of the hall. There's a full bath in there, but this room is definitively locked.
✿ THE SPREAD ✿
As usual, Adra's gone over the top in his preparations. For drinks, there's a sweet, refreshing punch; delicately pink and decorated with sprigs of flowers. There are pitchers of sparkling ice water, jugs of wine and spiced mead, and plenty of glasses to share.
Though Adra does not eat meat himself, he prepares it ably; there's a honey-glazed, roasted turkey in the center of the table, right beside a carving board heavy with seasoned, hand-carved slices of fresh beef. Red potatoes, bright with paprika and salt and glistening with pats of melting butter, are arranged in wedges around the turkey. There are woven baskets of steaming rolls, flaky and soft; platters of carrots and broccoli and asparagus; enormous bowls of belly-warming soup filled with thick wheat noodles, sliced egg, and shredded cabbage. At one end of the table, there's a plate of burgers, along with small dishes to fix them--bacon, crispy onions, sauteed mushrooms, and all the necessary condiments. He has plates of savory pies, filled with beef or pork or chicken; steamed and fried dumplings stuffed with meat and spring vegetables, plump and perfectly shaped.
The desserts are similarly extravagant: he has a plate of meticulously crafted flower and fruit cakes; some look like ripe, blushing peaches, others, he shaped into red orchids, lotus blossoms, or golden roses. He's made a chocolate tart so dark that its smooth, sugar-dusted surface shimmers reflectively in the overhead light. Cupcakes of all kinds are scattered here and there, as well as an extravagant, multi-tiered confection dripping with fudge sauce, encrusted with sliced strawberries and vibrantly colorful, fondant flower petals. There are loaves of warm banana bread; fruit tarts glittery with rainbow sugar crystals; and, under glass, an assortment of flavorful macarons baked to look like something plucked right from the starry sky.
But the most important thing about Adra's lavish banquet is this: all of the food is enchanted, laced with magic meant to inspire feelings of comfort and security. Eating it may conjure up familiar, welcome sensations or memories--nothing sorrowful or painful, and only as specific as you'd like. It could be something as simple as the feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a cold day, or as complex as a particular soothing memory. In all cases, the intended effect is meant to inspire calm and ease.
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Setsuna is unable to construe any of this. What is it about his empty being that Gilgamesh insists that he's beautiful, along with the rest of all those unsuitable words given to him? What is the King seeing inside of his unfulfilled void? Even though he is still continuing to seek further meaning in his existence, someone right before him has already seen it before he could. The overwhelm continues to surround him, uncertain of how to respond to such affection. He never did know how to respond to Princess Marina's own, even now...
And then Gilgamesh proclaims to teach him. His King is telling him that he'll show him. And it's then that Setsuna's eyes widen. The last few words are contradictory, but he knows what they really mean. Because Gilgamesh is immortal, just like him... It means that he will never back down from this even if it would last for an eternity. It reminds him of his own resolve, to never back down from finding the answers even if it last for an eternity. ]
Gi—
[ Setsuna almost utters a certain name for the first time, but he stops. In fact, it might as well be a hallucination. That's how quickly it dissipates into the wind. ]
King...
[ His throat tightens, losing all ability to respond vocally. So instead, he gives his answer through a gesture. Leaning up, he plants his own lips in front of the older man's, but that too is fleeting. That's because he doesn't know how he feels either. Its meaning is ambiguous. It doesn't necessarily entail that he returns the affections, it might as well be gratitude or appreciation. He wants to remain as himself. No matter what, he wants to continue remaining as himself more than anything else.
The meek movement proves that fact. He hopes that this is at least enough for now. Once he moves faintly back, he stares into the King's eyes, wondering if it is. ]
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It's enough. Gilgamesh may want another, but he doesn't seek another. He just holds this man, more like a boy, in his arms, and comforts him as he would his own brother. He doesn't expect anything else, even if he may desire everything else. He just lets Setsuna hang there, as if he always belonged there, and hushes him before he can fly into another upset.]
It is alright. Do what you are able; live as you must. Keep striving. Never tell yourself no, I cannot be that, because I am telling you: you can.
[Gilgamesh wasn't one for pep talks. Usually, he'd just deride a target into submission until it gave in. But in this case, he's also trying beyond his means, as he urged Setsuna to do. He opens his heart even as every instinct rails against it. He shuts his eyes, sighs, and says...]
I am telling you, even if you've no love for yourself at all, I will love you anyway. I will believe in my knight, as I hope he should believe in me.
[What more can he relay to him? He buries his head in Setsuna's shoulder and very nearly wills him to heed his words, no matter what.]
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"You are my reality." Setsuna's own words resound against his mind. He isn't moving away, because he prefers Gilgamesh to stay like this: for the King to acknowledge reality as well. He likes him this way rather than his earlier disillusioned self. And even though the two of them feel similarly to preferring distance, in their alienation their true feelings show. They never truly wanted to stay away from others, but it's the path where everything is much more comfortable as nothing felt real or felt right.
Setsuna's a little in awe... To think that the King would be the first one to step out from that comfort zone they both recognize all too well, not after he was so stubborn about wanting to be all alone. He was prepared for the long road ahead to convince Gilgamesh to find his place among others. He didn't want this King to end up like him. But look at them now, the situation has been reversed. Now, he's the one being pushed to do it as well.
Eventually, Setsuna closes his eyes together with his King. He folds those hands of his, clutching a part of the King's top within them. Aah... Had he been a weaker person, he would have shed a tear or two by now. Of course, he isn't like that. So he remains the same, powerfully enduring the emotions that are subdued within his armored heart. But he's weakened enough that he couldn't move anymore. He wanted to help the others clean up... Though now, he's frozen in place. ]
I feel a little strange...
[ Would it be all right to sleep like this...? Setsuna, who is unable to comprehend how he's actually feeling, has become ill. He doesn't want to open his eyes anymore for the rest of the afternoon, so perhaps leaving him to a small rest on the couch would be best for now. ]
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[Gilgamesh shifts a little, so they can more comfortably lie against each other. Setsuna could spend a few hours here, or even the night; he knows Adra wouldn't mind, wouldn't disturb them. And he looks so tired. Truth be told, Setsuna always looks tired. Tired with the world. Tired with his life. Tired with the sins he carries, and all the people who continue to tell him you are worth something when it often seems he feels less than nothing.
But it isn't true. Gilgamesh would never assume as worthless man as his knight. All the things Setsuna says, all he argues against, it's really just stubbornness. Stubbornness, and perhaps conditioning of the worst sort. Conditioning that seeps down to the soul and corrupts it, whispers in ears, wearing away at what remains of sanity. Gilgamesh can understand that. Actually, there's a lot he can understand even as he claims otherwise, to be above and beyond all people.
And what he understands now is that, for whatever reason, he has formed a connection with this man and doesn't wish to let go. Nothing and no one will ever replace Enkidu, his truest knight and dearest friend. His weapon, his world. But he has Setsuna. He can allow himself that much, company to his crown. A little shadow to stand in his sun, though just as grand in his own way. Because, after all, a shadow cast by a King was quite large, indeed.
Gilgamesh buries his face in that crown of messy hair and plants a kiss on it.]
I will look after you, as you have looked after me. It is an order, so don't refuse.
[Because, even if he did, Gilgamesh would remain, as he always did and always would, until the end of time.]
no subject
Various voices resonate in his mind. Voices of people he knew from home, and those who he came to know here... Their words fill him, turning into a dissonance of screams. "There are many ways to live outside of fighting!" Her voice most of all strikes him the heaviest. And again, all he could reply with is, I cannot think of any... He doesn't know, he doesn't know, he doesn't know! He wants to one day come to know, but right now, he really can't come up with an answer... And then the King's voice tells him to rest.
Rest...
His heart calms by that one word, allowing himself into ease. He has time... Too much of it, even. He doesn't need to hurry with discovering what he's yet to see before him. He doesn't want to run too fast and trip to the ground. As Gilgamesh's kiss settles him further, he decides to move his hands to redirect the King's own to cover his ears. For now, he just wants to block everything out of his head. ]
King... Has anyone ever told you that your hands are calming?
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[That much he can answer without hesitation, without the usual layers of ego and arrogance.]
As a Servant, I killed, and I killed, and I killed, and I killed... and only rarely did such hands offer any comfort. But even so, I also loved. It is not beyond me, beyond people like us—it is not impossible, and it is hardly forbidden, to know these pleasures.
[But that's just starting the argument up all over again, when Setsuna clearly needed a moment's respite. He offers soothing hands along his face, stroking cheekbones and massaging skin, though they refuse to cover his ears up, as he seems to want. When the King speaks, others must listen. That was the unbreakable law of the land.
He will soothe him to sleep, for as long as it takes. Maybe his hands weren't comforting, but they could be soft. They could be warm, and welcoming, like a lover's.]
Hush now, little knight. We may worry over the matter later. For now, be good to yourself, and lie with me.
[If only it could be as he truly desired. If he only he could ever have this man for his own. For now, this will do.]