[ P ] Don't Let This Story Die On My Lips

A R Y T H M E T I K

The heat came, and went, and came again with vengeance–waves of humidity that could be considered supernatural given the autumn season. Of course, Arythmetik didn’t give faerie stories any credence. But something was happening all across Rionnach, something on a grander scale than Aryth could study and define. He was too busy jogging from heat camp to heat camp, transporting herbs to the weak, sick, and just plain tired. What he did witness, however, was devastating. The trees, which were normally aflame in brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows, hadn’t even changed colors yet. Instead, the leaves simply…wilted. The ones that held on were puckering and pale. They could only wait for a rare rain storm to resurrect them. The grass, too, was pallid and crunchy. Animals that were normally scurrying with life this time of year, prepping for hibernation, cowered out of sight. One thing to be said of the awful weather: it made hunting small game easier because there were fewer places to hide. If a wolf had the energy to hunt in the first place. All in all, some wolves might have taken the drought and subsequent heat waves as a bad omen, considering it immediately followed the princess’ birth…


But again, Aryth didn’t place stock in such silly things.


What he did care about was coming home. He couldn’t stand it any longer. The books, the dusty halls, his familiar, pine-strewn bed–they all called to him across a distance that, at times, felt too wide to cross. What kept him, anyway? Duty? His country? These things didn’t keep him warm at night. But that was a cynical thought… In truth, one of the very reasons he stayed in Castle Town so long was the same reason he returned to the Arboretum now. Grigori…please be here. They’d talked about it, of course, when the heat waves first started. Grigori stayed behind most of the time to guard the otherwise helpless College grounds. Without the cowboy’s strength, their herb, moss, and food stores could have been ransacked. So Aryth needed to be strong too. He’d always been a wolf to put his country’s needs before his own, but it was Grigori that gave him the bravery to take charge.


Part of the scholar wondered whether it was bravery or cowardice that brought him back alone. Castle Stuart’s territory was still packed with refugees, and the rest of Rionnach was quiet…eerily so. New illnesses were bound to spread through the over-populated areas. And yet…he couldn’t stand it anymore. Dry twigs and brush crackled beneath his paws as he walked, faster, faster, bolting into a sprint as the welcoming arch of the Arboretum soared overhead. “Grigori!” Would everything be wilted and fragile and paper-thin forever? If he could see that same passion in Grigori’s mist-grey eyes that he remembered, then Arythmetik knew… His hope for the future would be restored.

code by claerie

@Grigori

Chewing mint in meditative Focus, the cowboy moved his paw slowly to etch line after line in the dry and brittle earth. When the drawing was finally done, he took a step back to examine it… only to sigh in frustration. His first attempts were by far most crude, yet they displayed promising improvements – until he hit a plateau, that is. He took what felt like twice as much time with this last one, but that didn’t pay out in making it any better than the last three. Admittedly, Grigori has never expected to match what he remembered seeing in Aryth’s books.. but it was still frustrating to hit a wall so early. “What a fuckin’ sad bunny parade…” he muttered to himself, before swiping his paw to smudge all the vaguely lagomorphic drawings. His eyes drifted upwards to the sky, mercilessly cloudless and radiant. The heat was unending, and so was his solitude at the campus.

Like at any other point of his life, things were easiest when he had a job to do. Patrolling and standing watch kept him occupied easily, even if little actually happened. But he was expected and paid to do only so much. He took on extra work anyway, but that still left some free time for rest. And as boring as rest was currently, even he had enough common sense not to neglect it.

As if answering his prayers for anything out of the ordinary to happen, the sound of a familiar voice calling out his name made his ears flick and perk up. It’d be a lie to say that he wasn’t a little concerned for a second, given that this was a recurring theme in his last couple dreams. It would be quite concerning for it to start happening in the waking world. And there was no reason for the scholar to be here before the weather returns to normal… yet there he actually was, in the flesh.

“Aryth!” Grigori stood up hastily, before running bouncily towards the other male. For the moment, he was too overwhelmed by relief and happiness to formulate any cohesive thought, so after an enthusiastic greeting nuzzle, he simply rested his chin against the back of Aryth’s neck to pull him into a hug, tail wagging all the while. Ah, how he’s missed this scent.. But the questions eventually caught up with his enthusiasm, and so he pulled back to give the other a concerned look. “Is everythin’ alright? I didn’t expect ye to come back yet..” Clearly, the weather hasn’t improved. Even if it did, he was prepared for it to take a while to wrap things up at the camps, which would keep his lover away even longer. So if not the weather, what else could have changed?

„*”

A R Y T H M E T I K

Hearing the foreign twang in Grigori’s voice stirred something in Aryth: giddiness might have been the right word. It was akin to childlike excitement, unbound and untamed. Aryth couldn’t remember ever feeling this way, even as a child. A joyous laugh, brimming with relief, erupted from his maw as he galloped faster to close the distance. But the strong emotion startled him a little, and he tried to reign it in even as the cowboy swept him into an enthusiastic embrace. “Grigori,” he breathed, panting from the effort but also the heat. His bones felt like they were trembling and he gulped in lungfuls of Grigori’s scent, too. It smelled like home. Aryth was able to compose himself, and a gentle smile spread across his muzzle like melting butter.


It felt too fast when they parted ways, but Grigori’s tail was wagging, and that was all Arythmetik needed. His tail mirrored his partner’s as another laugh–this time more sheepish–escaped his lips. “Everything’s fine, for now anyway. Er, except me.” The abashed Professor shook his head. “I couldn’t wait anymore. I needed to come home…I wanted to see you.” Aryth’s emerald gaze flickered against Grigori’s visage, seeking, questioning. But he glanced away shyly before he could see an answer. “I was in Sussex the other day, checking on the heatcamp. It was a ghost town. Almost everyone has moved to Castle Stuart. And I thought…what am I doing? It’s not like I’m holding everything together.” Aryth cleared his throat. Already the blazing sun was punishing him for his decision; he’d forgotten how hot it would be in Melrose without the cover of healthy trees.


Suddenly, as if compensating for his silliness, Aryth switched subjects. “How did you ever stand heat like this back in your old country?”

code by claerie

@Grigori

Grigori tilted his head to the side as the other started, concern rising exponentially as the sentences progressed. But then it all came down to something simple and harmless, making the cowboy let out a relieved chuckle. “Missed me, did ye? The feelin’s mutual.” He put on a tough front and grinned, trying to hide just how giddy hearing that got him. It was still difficult to internalize that he could mean this much to someone; someone who meant just as much to him. Although the blonde male wouldn’t throw everything to the side just to see Aryth a bit earlier than planned quite so easily – he had years of experience in denying himself what he really wanted, after all. But.. perhaps he could learn to be a little bit more irresponsible, as long as it’s about them.

But the scholar wasn’t done yet. Grigori’s smile slowly faded, his expression turning thoughtful. That longing stemmed from a lost sense of purpose, then. What difference can a single wolf make… well, if that isn’t a familiar dilemma. The cowboy threw a glance in the direction where his den was, thinking of a little something that’s been waiting there for this very moment. He hasn’t even started to prepare himself, with no change in the weather it’s been all too easy to put it off. And now, he’ll have to just wing it. “Hm? Ah, y’know, it bein’ the only kinda weather most of the time makes it easy.” From the lack of detail, it was easy to tell that he definitely didn’t have his heart in talking about the weather right now. And indeed, he moved on from that subject instantly. “It’s.. ‘bout a year now, ain’t it? Since I came here and.. we met.” Recalling that day, the large male smiled fondly. But they could reminisce later – he had to go through with this now or else he won’t be able to stop thinking about it. “I got ye somethin’, I just need to go grab it. Wait here?” And with that, he was off running. The last thing he wanted was to keep Aryth waiting too long, and this rush took precedence over considering that maybe they could just go together.

When he returned, Grigori was carrying an old and battered book. It has definitely seen better days, and the cowboy might have added to the damage some. As a matter of fact, as soon as he set it down on the ground he noticed a fresh stain of minty pulp on the cover and he felt his stomach twist. He brushed it away with his paw quickly, hoping the other hasn’t noticed, though just touching the cover so roughly might as well be enough to give Aryth a heart attack. “I got it to have somethin’ to practice with while ye were away. I figured touchin’ any of yers would be… a bad idea.” He paused there, giving the other a moment to examine the book. It was a thin one, unlike the tomes that are usually seen around the college, and if Aryth were to open it, he’d see that the pages were covered with big letters. There was no noteworthy knowledge hidden inside, it was merely a story for children. “Thing is, after a while I realized I already know what’s inside. My mother used to tell me this story before sleep when I was a kid. She got it from my daddy.. he wasn’t a local, but that’s all I really know. He died before I was born.” For something he hasn’t ever talked about, it went exceptionally easily. It surprised him… but only to a degree. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted Aryth to know more about him, and that made all the difference.

„*”

A R Y T H M E T I K

Grigori’s reaction made Aryth realize he was being…a tad too somber. He missed me, too! Way to make everything about yourself, you idjit. After chiding himself mentally, the scholar shook his head and allowed another smile to slip onto his lips. Grigori missed him. That should be enough. A sense of relief washed over him, but some trepidation remained on the shores of his subconscious. The cowboy seemed distracted and suddenly had a faraway look in his eyes. Those handsome, misty-grey eyes. Before Aryth could analyze it, the subject was changing, and he blinked in surprise. “Oh! Yes, I suppose it has been a year.” Goodness, a couple more months and it would be the anniversary of the Winter Ball. But the last thing Aryth expected was a present! He stammered, awkward and flustered, as Grigori ran off to grab it.


That minute his companion was away could have been an hour. Aryth shuffled uncomfortably on his paws. It was all worth it when Grigori returned with a book in his mouth. The scholar gasped, emerald eyes glistening eagerly at the rare sight. He did wince a little as the cowboy set the book on the ground, and he hurried over just as Grigori brushed the smushed mint off the cover. (Luckily, Aryth hadn’t noticed.) He assumed the wear and tear was from the age of the tome. “Losh, where did you find this!?” A brighter smile than before rose like the dawn across his face. “You’ve…been practicing?” And Aryth’s heart fluttered when Grigori explained that the story inside was from his childhood. He was flipping through the pages, drinking in every colorful drawing, every tenderly inked word, when Grigori added that his father died before he was born.


Aryth turned his eyes upward, seeking Grigori’s gaze. Slowly, he straightened, the gentle smile still resting in the corners of his mouth. Learning about his lover’s past was more precious to Arythmetik than treasure, but he’d promised not to push him for details. This meant more than Grigori could ever know. “Maybe tonight, you can read me this story to help me fall asleep.” Aryth chuckled softly, then paused, scanning Grigori’s rugged features. “I’m sorry to hear about your father. Both of my parents died before I was old enough to know their faces. It can leave us…empty. I know.” Aryth meant this to be comforting, but he had no idea if the intimacy of their pasts would scare Grigori away.

code by claerie

@Grigori <3

It took hardly any insight to anticipate that a book was a gift Aryth would appreciate. That is not to say Grigori could easily plan something like this out, hence a coincidence was required for all the pieces to fall into place.. but he did like the results. “I bought it one time I stopped by the city.. it wasn’t too much, cause of its state and contents I’spose..” Or perhaps desperate times make parting with something like it easier if it leads to having the means to get by. Ah, but it was when Aryth lit up at the mention of him practicing on his own that Grigori’s breath nearly caught in his chest. “Y-yeah..” he stammered. Truth be told, he had thought little of it at the time, it was just one more activity to help fight off the boredom. Reading was novel, but he could easily go back to a life without it, except… The day he first found out about it, and they talked about silly things like moon rabbits, was a precious memory. And the cowboy hoped he could keep on making Aryth happy like he did just now.

Grigori wasn’t aware of the tension of his shoulders until it dissipated when the scholar didn’t immediately take up the topic of his past when the opportunity presented itself. It would seem having the resolve to talk about it wasn’t enough to make it easy. He would do it, he promised himself again, but getting sidetracked for just one more moment was too compelling of a temptation. “Well, I guess I could, but I was hopin’ to do.. y’know, other things, before sleep” He smiled sheepishly and glanced to the side, his ears folding backwards. The heatwave hasn’t given them a chance to get used to this new stage of their relationship, but he assumed it would be fine for him to be a bit more forward about it by now.

Then, instead of pressing him for more details, the other wolf offered a bit of his own past in turn. Grigori fell silent for a moment, watching the other attentively. So that’s why Aryth has no family around anywhere even though he’s a local. What could it be like to grow up as an orphan in this strange land? Well.. no matter the place, it’s never easy. “Yer really amazin’, y’know?” Was it an odd response to this? Perhaps. But it was the most honest one he could give. “I remember seein’ wolves who had no one to guide ‘em, to tell ‘em what’s right and what’s wrong. And I remember what they turned out to be, but ye… yer so good and kind despite that. I.. don’t know what I’d be, if I…” The blonde brute sighed, unable to find the right words to keep expressing his thoughts. It was a difficult subject, one so dangerously close to the darkest parts of him, the side that he didn’t want to so much as acknowledge out loud. And the hypothetical scenario of him having no sense of morality to cling to and direct his violent tendencies at least somewhat productively was a horrifying one.

“There’s a lot ‘bout me I’m not proud of.” he started, slowly and hesitantly. “And.. the more time I spend with ye, the worse it looks in comparison. But ye deserve to know, so lemme start from the beginnin’.” Grigori seated himself, making it clear that this would be a longer story. But first he took a moment to simply chew, gathering his racing thoughts. “Mother was a sickly and withdrawn wolf. People said she wasn’t always like that, but that’s all I knew. Pious, too; she’d always say it’s important to be good and that god will punish those who ain’t. Bein’ a kid, bullies and the like was all the evil in the world I knew. I wasn’t weak enough to be bothered, some other kids weren’t so lucky though. So I watched ‘em get away with it again and again. The punishment never came. It started to make me.. so angry.” He never knew why exactly he felt that way. Was it because he felt like his mother was lying? Or was it some inherent need to correct any wrong he saw? “So I did it myself. Holdin’ back less and less every time they came back. I only got angrier when they cried and begged me to stop, because they never listened to such pleas themselves. And I didn’t understand why hurtin’ them got me in trouble with the adults. If they were meant to be punished, wasn’t I doin’ the right thing, even in hurtin’ someone is wrong?” To this day, he still wasn’t sure where lies the line between right and wrong. But he hasn’t always thought as much about it as he does now. “Not that what I thought mattered, really. Kids don’t think things through when they act. I simply didn’t know any other way to vent, and it made me feel better. It.. still does.” The blonde brute fell silent, avoiding the other male’s gaze. He was scared the scholar will think less of him by the end of this story, maybe even that he won’t want anything to do with him anymore. But that’s precisely why it wouldn’t be right to keep it hidden.

“My outbursts made me sort of a misfit. The bullies’ victims weren’t much less scared of me than the bullies. I only had one friend, really.. still, things got easier as I grew up, even after my mother passed away. I knew society had rules by then, and that kept me from actin’ out unless the situation really called for it, and others started to hold the past against me less, dismissin’ it as just kids being kids. But becomin’ an adult had a different kind of problems.. a young man like me was expected to start a family of his own. That I only had interest in other men was.. not somethin’ you could be open ‘bout there. One day, my friend’s sister asked if we could talk. She’s the one who made me quit tobacco. She said that she’s liked me for some time, and… I couldn’t let everyone I knew down. We got married some time after, and it was the biggest mistake I have ever made.” Even after all this time, it still made him uneasy to think about it, and it was clear to see in how he tensed up. But there’s no backing out now. “Livin’ a lie like that, it just.. kills ye inside. There was nothin’ there for me except this role I had to play and could never stop. Then again, I had no clue. Though that might just be what bein’ an adult is like. Thought it might get better when we had a son. It didn’t. I wanted the best for ‘em, but couldn’t stand to be near. So I spent every minute I could workin’ just to be away.”

“Then that whole thing with the town elder happened. I’ll.. spare ye the details of what he did. Naturally, I tried to beat him up.” Grigori snorted, but there was no amusement to be found in his expression. “He cried for help and played the victim. Everyone thought I lost it, maybe from workin’ so much. I was forced to take a break, stay at home.. but I told myself the elder would retaliate somehow. Not at me, my family was an easier target. So I just went and left. Without me, there’d be no reason to go after ‘em. But deep down, I was just so glad to finally have an excuse to be free of ‘em. This mixture of guilt and relief was all I could think ‘bout.” He knew what it was like to grow up without a father, yet he subjected his son to the same fate. No circumstances can be dire enough to earn him forgiveness for that.

“There was a lawless land beyond that frontier town. Plenty of opportunities to distract myself with righteous anger and violence. And no one to care who I fucked ‘round with. Even if it was some lowlife, so long as I didn’t see ‘em do anythin’ wrong at the time. Few moments of pleasure, of freedom I could only dream of before. Hours of hatin’ myself for breakin’ my marriage vows so easily. At some point, I couldn’t stand it anymore. There was no way back but my home town, no way ahead but a desert. Chose the desert, thinkin’ I wouldn’t make it through anyway. But I did. So I thought.. maybe I could try to forget everythin’ and start fresh. After a while, I ended up here. And then I met ye.” Now, Grigori could only wait to see what Aryth had to say about all of that. He couldn’t bring himself to look and see what sort of response he could expect form the scholar’s expression. Chewing intensively, he lifted a leg to scratch himself behind the ear as he stared at some unspecified point on the horizon. His breath was uneven, every time subconsciously holding the inhale in anticipation. A single question kept echoing in his mind – can he still be a wolf Aryth would have feelings for?


„*”

A R Y T H M E T I K

If Aryth could blush, he would have. The mere mention of spending the night together stoked a fire just beneath the surface of his skin. (Was he panting harder now?) And when Grigori called him amazing, and undertones of wonder and appreciation in that handsome drawl soothed Arythmetik like the loveliest song. His eyes shimmered even as they narrowed, his smile widening in deep gratitude. This was what he’d missed most of all: that comfortable intimacy. It was there from the moment they met. Nothing but a spark at first, making every word warm and inviting. But now it was an all-consuming fire, and Aryth had no idea how he’d managed to stay away for so long.


But it wasn’t time for him to speak yet. Grigori glanced away, ashamed, and Aryth’s eyes widened ever so slightly. His heart started to beat a little faster, concern for his lover nagging at his mind and his muscles—urging him to step forward and embrace the sassenach. But he saw Grigori’s mouth (that handsome, strong mouth) opening. Grigori was on the verge of sharing the part of himself that the scholar had never seen. Aryth’s brow contorted as he listened to fear, the anxiety, spilling from Grigori’s lips. But it was a show of attention and sympathy. Only a small, instinctual part of Arythmetik was scared that he’d learn something irrevocable about the rugged man in front of him, a man he respected more, perhaps, than anyone else in the world.


Throughout Grigori’s tale, Aryth was a steadfast listener. Pity tugged at his gut when the cowboy described his sick mother and the neighborhood bullies. Recognition lit his brain when Grigori explained the uncontrollable anger, and he couldn’t help but recall the day they met, and Grigori strong-armed the shady meat vendor. And of course, the professor in him was eager to learn as much about that foreign society as possible. It was when Grigori started to describe his marriage—to the woman who convinced him to give up tobacco—that Arythmetik felt conflicted. A pang of worry, maybe even fleeting jealousy, passed through his heart. But it faded quickly, overwhelmed by Aryth’s reason and sympathy. Mostly, the scholar felt pain. Pain that Grigori had to live a lie. Pain that everyone assumed he was a violent lunatic. Pain that Grigori was willing to leave his son behind, break his vows, and face the desert…even death…just to get away from that life.


Arythmetik’s jaws parted, his lower fangs glinting in the trickling sunlight. His eyes grazed the course, pale grass, or what was left of it, before rising to find Grigori’s face. The way Grigori always treated his past, Aryth was worried he’d murdered someone in cold blood. But it was inappropriate for the scholar to say, ‘Oh, that’s all?’ He knew how heavily this must have weighed on his companion, even if he couldn’t relate. And of course, the noble, mild-mannered scholar didn’t completely know how he felt about Grigori sleeping around with thugs and leaving behind his child. But that wasn’t what Aryth took away from his story. The earthen male stepped forward and pulled Grigori into another close embrace. “You’re even stronger than I thought, to try so hard to do the right thing, when the world has been so unjust.”


For a moment, Aryth just held Grigori, letting him feel that he wasn’t going anywhere. And then, in a fragile voice, Aryth whispered, “Your son…will you ever go back for him?”

code by claerie

@Grigori

The silence dragged on, every passing second feeding the blonde brute’s uncertainty. He could only desperately try to stop himself from thinking, from guessing what was going through Aryth’s mind, lest he would crumble under the weight of his own pessimism. For years, he’d kept all kinds of truths only to himself, letting everyone else see what they expected to see, never brave enough to even consider the alternative. Now, for the first time, he would rather take the risk than keep lying – is that what love does to a man? He tried not to name the feelings he and the scholar shared. The love that he knew was guilt, avoidance, detachment and coldness; so different from what he’s experienced in a single year in Rionnach that he didn’t want to compare the two. Now that he started on a different path, maybe it was also time to adjust his understanding of such feelings.. should he be allowed the chance for it, that is.

Instead of words of commentary, he felt Aryth moving closer. Grigori was so prepared for a negative reaction that he tensed up instinctively.. but only for a moment. It was just an embrace – no, not just – it was all he could have ever wanted. He leaned into the other heavily, sighing as the tension left him. Only then the words came and, somehow, they shook him to the core. There was an unfamiliar tightness in his throat and chest, and emotions welling up so strongly that he could not hold them back. “Try is all I can ever do, it gets so hard to tell where the line between right and wrong goes. Morality ‘n all that, it ain’t fair.. life ain’t fair.” He never complained, never pitied himself. All he ever needed to do as an adult, as a husband, was to be a strong support and to provide for his family. If he couldn’t do that, it would only be his own fault, no one else’s. But Aryth didn’t just accept his flaws and mistakes, he also didn’t blame him for any of it. Was it naively too forgiving? Perhaps. But it was a grace Grigori would never have granted himself. It might not put his demons and regrets to rest for good, yet just for this moment… he was absolved. “It ain’t fair..” he repeated, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead into the other’s fur. He couldn’t recall ever holding onto someone so desperately before.

The question caught the cowboy off guard, though fortunately it came late enough that he’s managed to calm down a little. He didn’t answer for some time, simply thinking it through. “It’s.. not somethin’ I ever thought I could do. And I can’t see it workin’ out well for anyone.” Even excluding the hell of an experience that it would be for him, what good would it be reopen old wounds just to give them his excuses. “Micah.. even before I left, I wasn’t a good father to him. I tried so hard to keep my distance I hardly even knew him. So am I supposed to show up ‘n remind him of that just to say ‘oh I’m sorry, please don’t take it personally, it’s only because I never actually loved yer mother’?” No matter how carefully he tried to phrase it, if he were to say the truth it’ll always be a shitty thing to say. “Goin' back won’t change what’s already done. No matter if he forgot about me if he hates me, it’s fully justified. And, most of all…” Grigori pulled himself back, looking into the other male’s eyes. “I can’t risk takin' ye there. And I can’t.. I won’t leave ye. I…” The words he wanted to say, even now they still made his stomach twist. He could see flashbacks of all the times he lied about his feelings. But if he accepted that he can’t go back and fix the past, he should also accept that the past can’t reach out and hamper his future. It was out in the open, no longer a secret, so it couldn’t do that anymore. Instead of pushing his memories away and retreating, he took a deep breath. Waited for them to pass, until the only thing he saw was the russet male before him.

“I love ye, Aryth.”


„*”

A R Y T H M E T I K

Seeing another wolf in distress was never easy for Arythmetik. But hearing the pain in Grigori’s voice—the voice of someone so strong, someone normally unassailable—it was devastating. Aryth’s heart ached in ways he never thought possible. It was frightening, even, to see Grigori like this. It tore him to shreds and made him question the nature of the world itself, if someone so good could be brought so low by trauma beyond their control. The scholar didn’t have any answers this time. All he could do was hold the renegade closer. Focus on the sensation of Grigori’s forehead against him. Wish he could pull his lover in and consume him. It made him feel closer to Grigori than ever.


When he finally asked his question, it seemed to take his partner by surprise. Aryth continued to embrace the larger male, nodding slowly to show he was listening, until Grigori pulled away. The scholar’s brows contorted in concern and his eyes wavered as he stared up at his companion. I suppose what he’s saying is true, but it can’t be that simple. Aryth didn’t know a lot about children. He’d never been around them much, at least not since he was a child too, and he primarily taught adults. He loved kids as much as the next wolf, but he wasn’t an expert in that particular subject. Still, he knew that Grigori must have struggled not knowing his father. And he knew that if his parents weren’t really dead, they’d just left him in the Arboretum to fend for himself, he…well he’d want to see them face to face. It wasn’t wise, but he’d want that. And maybe Micah would understand. Beneath the hate and the blame and the confusion…maybe solace could come from that.


But Grigori made it sound like a dangerous place. And Aryth was too weak to go there. The professor knew it was true, and his head dipped a bit. He started to work up the nerve to say that Grigori should go without him anyway, that he needed to do this for his own closure, but the passion in his companion’s voice held him fast. There was a moment, brief and ethereal, where Aryth realized what Grigori was going to say before he said it. Time stopped at Aryth’s eyes locked onto the handsome, misty-mountain grey of his lover’s gaze. And then he said it. The scholar’s stomach flipped as his heart skipped a beat before pounding like a drumline in his chest. Until this second, he, too, tried so desperately to ignore the feelings stirring between them. He knew he loved Grigori, but to admit it meant there was a chance his spirit could be irrevocably broken. But now—


“I love you too, Grigori.” Aryth swept forward, pulling Grigori down for a deep kiss. After what felt like another eternity, he pulled away breathless. “Maybe…someday…you and I,” Aryth smiled as he caught his breath, “can go there together. In our old age, when there’s nothing left for us in Rionnach but picking out graves. It can be our final pilgrimage. But until then…I wouldn’t mind spending forever with you in this forest.”

code by claerie

@Grigori

Ah.. who knew that the same words, spoken by someone else under much different circumstances, could be entirely something else? Grigori still might not have been able to take them without some unease, but there was more than that – relief, excitement, happiness. The blonde brute tried to focus on that. Then, with the kiss, he no longer had to try. And, finally, a fluttering heart and a rush of blood swept his thoughts away..

..at least for a moment. He breathed in deeply when the other pulled back, shuffling his paw once he realized how off his center of balance was because he’d been leaning in. Truth be told, after this kind of response, going back to the flow of their conversation wasn’t the first option that came to his mind – but Aryth’s input wasn’t something he could simply brush off. So, with some reluctance, Grigori reeled himself in. “Maybe..” he agreed carefully. It’s not like they’d have any better chances at crossing the desert as elderly wolves, and… hold up. How come they’re making lifelong plans all of a sudden!? The cowboy almost choked on his mint when that started to finally sink in. It wasn’t a bad thing, it’s just that.. he never so much as imagined himself living to old age. On top of that, it really isn’t far to from ‘until death do us part’ from this, is it?

“If the college will let ye go, ye might be their best prof…pro.. ahem, by then.” This diversion attempted through humor and flattery only ended up raising another issue in his mind, now that long-term future was suddenly relevant. Aryth’s profession seemed like a safe bet. It might be difficult to start out, but the longer he keeps at it, the better it gets, right? Grigori, on the other hand, could only remain a guard for so long. No one needs an old wolf in this kind of business, he’d only get himself killed. But what else could he do?

A distant sound tugged at his attention before he could worry himself further. A murmur. A constant hum. His ears started to turn from one direction to another, trying to pinpoint the source. Rain. He looked to the side, gazing up to distant, but clearly dark and approaching clouds. “Well, ye might have picked just the right time to come back, eh?” The blonde brute said with a grin. It was another wave of relief; things could finally return to normal again. They could stay together.. forever, was it? Doesn’t have a bad ring to it. “We should get yer new book some shelter, and then..” His voice trailed off as he pressed his nose to the fur of Aryth’s neck. “Let’s kick off that forever with a veeery long night, yeah?” He could worry about everything else after that.



„*”