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Entry tags:
[April 29] [Fire Emblem: Fates] Til Morning
Title: Til Morning
Day/Prompt: April 29/people of the world your hands are bloody
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fates
Character/Pairing: Xander/Laslow
Rating/Warning(s): AA, mentions of canon-typical violence
Word Count: ~535
Summary: Even after the war, there are things to do, storms to quell, and it's better to know now than wait til morning.
--
"I daresay you'd sleep better if you didn't read all of these before bed," Laslow commented as he handed a collections of letters and reports over to Xander.
"Possibly," Xander replied as he set all but the first report on his desk and continued a slow pace around his private study. He wasn't entirely tired, but he'd already been sitting for far too long and wanted to move. There was more than enough light from a handful of hexed lanterns; he didn't need to stay in one place to read. "But I'd rather know."
"That doesn't surprise me, milord." Laslow, on the other hand, slid over to a velvet sofa and sprawled. It was a little difficult not to watch him over the top of the report as he stretched, nearly catlike, and then closed his eyes as if he wasn't paying perfect attention.
But once it looked like Laslow wasn't going to offer more distraction, Xander went back to the stack he'd been given. A rash of crime in Macarath. Cheve asking for aid as their fledgling independence floundered. Hoshido replying to confirm that the assassins dispatched by Laslow some weeks before had been a rogue unit and that Ryoma would do more--
They all needed to do more, Xander thought as he shuffled on to the next papers. They'd all done so much already; every one of them. Even if the war had raged long before a one of them had been born, they'd continued it without question.
Perhaps Leo could be sent to Cheve, Charlotte to Macarath... trusted generals to other towns... Bones picked clean by the trees of Krakenburg to Hoshido...
There would be much to do in the morning, as always. Xander returned to his chair for a long moment, making quick, neat notes on a blank sheet of ledger paper so he'd be ready. And then he looked to Laslow, who was no longer feigning sleep and instead just watching him.
"Anything in need of urgent attention, milord?" Laslow questioned. He swung his feet down to the floor and reached to rake his fingers through his hair.
"No. There will be dispatches come morning and bones to send to Hoshido. But nothing that requires you-- or me-- til then."
"Are you sure, milord?" Laslow grinned and honestly, Xander couldn't help chuckling.
"I didn't say you were dismissed." Xander stood and pushed his chair in. "Stay for as long as you'd like."
"Til those dispatches in the morning?" Laslow questioned as he stood and strolled over to Xander, not hesitating to slip into Xander's embrace.
"Something like that." Xander pulled Laslow close, just holding onto him for a long moment before shifting enough stroke his fingers down Laslow's cheek and then back, tracing the curve of his ear and the fascinating earring that was always, always there.
"Milord..."
Laslow leaned into the kiss and, for a moment, Xander was not as concerned with Macarath, Cheve, or pale bones waiting to return home. They never truly left his mind and some time later, when Laslow was actually asleep beside him, Xander thought again of what would need to be done in the morning.
He might not sleep as well-- but at least he knew.
Day/Prompt: April 29/people of the world your hands are bloody
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fates
Character/Pairing: Xander/Laslow
Rating/Warning(s): AA, mentions of canon-typical violence
Word Count: ~535
Summary: Even after the war, there are things to do, storms to quell, and it's better to know now than wait til morning.
--
"I daresay you'd sleep better if you didn't read all of these before bed," Laslow commented as he handed a collections of letters and reports over to Xander.
"Possibly," Xander replied as he set all but the first report on his desk and continued a slow pace around his private study. He wasn't entirely tired, but he'd already been sitting for far too long and wanted to move. There was more than enough light from a handful of hexed lanterns; he didn't need to stay in one place to read. "But I'd rather know."
"That doesn't surprise me, milord." Laslow, on the other hand, slid over to a velvet sofa and sprawled. It was a little difficult not to watch him over the top of the report as he stretched, nearly catlike, and then closed his eyes as if he wasn't paying perfect attention.
But once it looked like Laslow wasn't going to offer more distraction, Xander went back to the stack he'd been given. A rash of crime in Macarath. Cheve asking for aid as their fledgling independence floundered. Hoshido replying to confirm that the assassins dispatched by Laslow some weeks before had been a rogue unit and that Ryoma would do more--
They all needed to do more, Xander thought as he shuffled on to the next papers. They'd all done so much already; every one of them. Even if the war had raged long before a one of them had been born, they'd continued it without question.
Perhaps Leo could be sent to Cheve, Charlotte to Macarath... trusted generals to other towns... Bones picked clean by the trees of Krakenburg to Hoshido...
There would be much to do in the morning, as always. Xander returned to his chair for a long moment, making quick, neat notes on a blank sheet of ledger paper so he'd be ready. And then he looked to Laslow, who was no longer feigning sleep and instead just watching him.
"Anything in need of urgent attention, milord?" Laslow questioned. He swung his feet down to the floor and reached to rake his fingers through his hair.
"No. There will be dispatches come morning and bones to send to Hoshido. But nothing that requires you-- or me-- til then."
"Are you sure, milord?" Laslow grinned and honestly, Xander couldn't help chuckling.
"I didn't say you were dismissed." Xander stood and pushed his chair in. "Stay for as long as you'd like."
"Til those dispatches in the morning?" Laslow questioned as he stood and strolled over to Xander, not hesitating to slip into Xander's embrace.
"Something like that." Xander pulled Laslow close, just holding onto him for a long moment before shifting enough stroke his fingers down Laslow's cheek and then back, tracing the curve of his ear and the fascinating earring that was always, always there.
"Milord..."
Laslow leaned into the kiss and, for a moment, Xander was not as concerned with Macarath, Cheve, or pale bones waiting to return home. They never truly left his mind and some time later, when Laslow was actually asleep beside him, Xander thought again of what would need to be done in the morning.
He might not sleep as well-- but at least he knew.