sinbound. [Akira & Earinor] [ENG]

Wasn't he just pathetic? He was promising Caelan something he couldn't fulfill, he was talking about nonsense again. Ronan of Alster would die, eventually, but soon enough - and he'd fine himself, somewhere, all alone, without a care in the world. Wouldn't it have been nice to breathe his last while watchin the sun set, or the sun rise, without a worry in the world? Now, he was clinging onto mortal posessions, clinging onto someone like his boyfriend, someone he'd always admired, maybe even always loved and yet, he wasn't sure if he could stick with him until the very end. It felt bad, horrible even, to consider leaving the blonde alone and the impact it most likely would have on him - he'd ruin him, just by being selfish and he'd ruin him, without giving it all a second thought. "Then I'll hold onto you", he said, nuzzling against the hand still resting on his face and yet, he shouldn't - he should let go, not because Caelan was hurt and straining his body to come this close, but because he was making it worse for both of them, horrible even. "I won't let go, I won't", he mumbled, but everything he was doing was dragging Caelan down the well, having him drown with him in dark, murky water without ever finding an answer to his pain. Caelans touch felt nice, even though it was hot, almost as if it were to burn itself into his skin - and Ronan had nothing better to do than to enjoy it. God, why was life so unfair? If he couldn't stay with someone like Caelan, why couldn't he just have been a woman instead? Then again, what would it change?

Caelan would have still been who he was and therefore, Ronan would have just been another girl to spend the night with, another one of many faces - but now, they were sharing their time, crouched together in a single bathtub and despairing about life together, once more. The more he leaned into Caelans touch, the more he listened to his words, the weirder it felt to be, to exist - to be loved, as much as he was. Who was Ronan, if not an idiot for not realizing it anytime sooner? "Don't just say things like that without warning me beforehand", he mumbled ever so softly, kind of worn and tuckered out already. "I feel like I don't appreciate you enough, or the things your love would make you do for me, but I'm grateful to have you by my side, grateful to have you care for me as much as you do - but one thing I definitely won't do is cast you aside, or tell you to in a war for me", he chuckled. Now that their lips met once more, his other hand reached out, found its way into Caelans hair and he indulged in the kiss, once more, only to stroke through the blonde strands, only to kiss him back once more. Ronan felt weird, a bit too weird for his own liking - that might have been because there were tears streaming down his face, slowly and silently, and because he felt like he'd done too much already. "Aren't you hurting yourself like this? Come on, sit down and cuddle me a bit more, if you want to", he whispered. What crimes had Caelan committed to be saddled with someone like him?

They both were young and as long as they didn't ascend to their respective thrones, if one could call them that, they had no power, despite being of noble heritage - as it stood right now, they simply were their families puppets, acting like it was expected of them and unable to break the ice between them and those who they actually wanted to be with. Ronan, instead, had taken a gamble and despite being a sour and unloving person, he somehow had convinced Caelan of the exact opposite and now, they found themselves here, fighting over stupid things again - were they even fighting? Maybe he took it to his heart, maybe he assumed too much at once, but all of this felt surreal at best, maybe even a bit confusing to him, someone that had barely been loved, ever, by anyone. His mother, while caring, only had given him what he thought to be love in its most basic form, for she was too terrified of his father finding out about who Ronan actually was - and therefore, that meant, he found himself aimlessly wandering around a bleak world, with little to no escape. "Probably not, you are pretty sneaky!" He wouldn't mind spending the rest of his days with Caelan, would he now? And once it got too much, one he felt like he needed to let go, he'd just ... tell him, that would work, wouldn't it? "Casting you aside now that I've roped you in? No way! If you think about running off, I'll tie you to my bed!"

They were two teenagers, running their mouths without really knowing what they were doing, but somehow, this was alright - as alright as it was for him to cry. Why, exactly, did he cry though? Did he feel bad about being himself, did he feel bad about existing or was this all just his brain, telling him things? "Why?", he asked, dumbfounded, before registering what was going on - and he felt bad, felt as if he'd just received a good punch and he wouldn't recover anytime soon. "No, you haven't!", he said, horrified, his own expression saying as much, but there was no end in sight and the tears just continued to flow, down, down, down - and whatever Caelan couldn't wipe away pooled at his chin and fell down into their bath. "I'm happy. Those aren't bad tears, don't worry", he mumbled, once more nuzzling his face against the blondes hand, still there, on his face, and enjoying the moment, even though he was worn out and feeling somewhat horrible. "I would have pushed you away if I didn't want to, trust me", he reassured, before he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Caelans chest, instead, still holding that hand that was consoling him in his own. "I'm just happy you care for me."

"A promise until we're old and long past our prime?", Ronan asked, knowing fully well that there was no chance in hell that he'd last that long - but a dream was a dream, as stupid as it sounded, at least to him. Was it his own stubbornness that led to him enduring all of this for so long, or was it that he'd rather spend all of his time, huddled up like this, close to someone like Caelan and not dare think about another day, not dare think about the inevitable future. In the end, he was who he was and that meant that he'd have to fit into his role at some point - that there wasn't any room for tears on his face, or any room for him to be depressed about the most trivial things he could imagine. Ronan was, quite frankly, overwhelmed by the things that Caelan was able to make him feel and he felt bad for crying, felt bad for not coming to terms with this earlier, or sometime sooner - now, he was the one ruining the mood, not being able to joke around like he did beforehand. Of course, Ronan of Alster was rarely one for jokes or a real jester, but for some reason, Caelan dragged out things in him that he'd buried inside of him ages ago. "I know, it's just ... I'm overwhelmed."

Nobody was to blame for his current state, not that he would search for a culprit anyway - but he decided, as unfair as it was, that he'd let go as soon as he'd calmed down, that he'd let go as soon as there was a chance to and honestly, was there even a genuine chance for him to attempt something as stupid? "I can't help it, okay?", he sniffled, pretty much audibly against the blondes chest - he knew that he was weird, knew that he had no chance but to accept who he was and then grow from that. From here on out, he had to chance something, anything, that would dry up those pesky tears and help him regain control over who he was - over who he wanted to be. Though, how would he even do that, now that he rested in another mans arms, cuddled up to him as close as he could, just so that he could catch a glimpse of comfort in that fucked up life of his? And yet, he was only using his boyfriend who had his own baggage to carry, saddling him with so much more than a single person could shoulder. "Well, we might as well have become enemies if we met any other way", he mumbled, trying almost desperately to dry his tears and once he succeeded, he felt like new ones were welling up in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry for being so pathetic sometimes ... and that you have to take care of me again. I feel bad for not being able to do the same."

"Probably old and boring, who knows", he retaliated. This wasn't going anywhere and Ronan knew it. He knew that he wasn't made to last, that he wouldn't last and that he would, without a doubt, crumble to pieces eventually. What was made to last, however, was an iron will he could barely call his own but it was there - and he found himself deadset on the simpler things in life, deadset on the fact that he could be dead by tomorrow and wasn't doing anything to achieve that. Was it all in vain or was he merely trying to become someone he wasn't? Hell, was this what he ought to do or would it all be in vain eventually? Who knew, maybe he figured out something and in the end, he found more than he could ever bargain for. Happiness was nothing short of a magic trick that he'd never learned and now, he substituted it with Caelan, someone who shouldn't be forced to endure him and his endless shenanigans. Ronan felt bad, albeit exhausted and he knew well enough that the truth lay somewhere else, but not in his hands. What was achievable, what wasn't and where did he have to look to figure out something, anything, and find a reason to belong? Was it the love that he yearned for, the touches of someone that actually gave a damn, or was this all in vain? "Is it?", he asked, unsure about it all.

"Are you sure?", he asked again. Right now, he would rather be nothing, rather be no one - but he wound up being no one but himself, nobody but a single blemish on an otherwise perfect surface. What was there that he didn't hate about himself that Caelan seemed to like so much? If he could, he'd just let go and tell the blonde to take whatever he wanted, he'd just pull himself apart, trade bodies with him - anything. Ronan was open to it all, no matter what he needed to do, he'd do it, simply because he'd been asked. "I hope we aren't", he sniffled, still unsure about whatever he was doing, if this was actually helping or if he was merely biting back tears. What in the world was going to happen? For once, he had no idea, but ... it wasn't bad he didn't, wasn't it? Nothing more than to bury his face in his hands, that was what he ought to do - and Ronan knew as much, but Caelan was hindering him from destroying that face of his, at least. "I ... want to, though", he sighed, nuzzling against the blondes chest and hoping he'd finally calm down, even if his breath was hitched and felt like it was sending him to hell. "No! You have plenty of reasons to cry, I'm just ... sorry that you have to endure me, doing this to you. Again. And apologizing for this, again", he elaborated, knowing fully well that this had to be one of the most taxing tasks. "You give me too much credit, Caelan. I'm the reason you're in pain in the first place."

He was worrying too much, factually, he was sad about so much, sad about the fact that time was something that - eventually - passed and that Caelan and him would, too, become one with the ashes of a world from yesteryear. There was no chance to cling onto a world so brittle, so fragile and easily forgotten as theirs, especially if none of them dared to leave a mark behind, a sign of their futile, struggling existence. Their secret, small and yet capable of ruining lives, had to enter their graves with them - no one in the waking world could know, was supposed to know and it was getting painfully obvious that they both were struggling to keep this up, struggling to be who they were without collapsing in and on themselves. Wasn't it pathetic to believe that one was free of sin, simply because they were born a sheep rather than a wolf? "That's ... not what I meant, but it's fine! I don't think you'd ditch me over something so stupid, you wouldn't be making all these promises if you weren't serious! I'm ... just questioning myself too much", he confessed, appalled by the state of himself, by the state of this conversation. What even had been their goal with this? Now he was crying, again, and making this all about him. "I ... might as well", he concluded. If he didn't stop worrying, what else was he supposed to do? He'd just wind up fucking it all up again, because he started thinking about something else, about anything else and then he'd realize that he was not only pushing himself further down the hole he'd already fallen into, he'd also find out why he was, in fact, this miserable. "Never? Never ever?", he asked, as if he needed reassurance once more, but then he shook his head.

"You're right, I won't become your enemy just because my father wants me to. That's incredibly stupid." For now, it would be best if he started to stop all of this stupidity, if he figured out how to do things, rather than to deny them and if he found a way out of the hell he thought himself to be in. Was this where the world ended and he finally could crawl out of the ditch he'd spend so much time in? "Tell me ... something, anything. A joke, a story, whatever you want to tell me", Ronan mumbled, wiping away the remaining tears with the back of his freed hand, gazing from Caelans chest to the water down below. "Don't you feel sad or in pain about what happened to your face? Or how you're forced to shoulder so much baggage sometimes? Are you sure you're fine?", he asked, knowing that Caelans answer would be the same as always, simply because that was something that the blonde seemingly wasn't willing to admit. "You're not enduring me, but you're enduring all of this baggage I'm unloading unto you - isn't it getting heavy? Should I take some back? I know that you love me, I understood you Caelan - I love you too, if I didn't, we wouldn't be here and I wouldn't even show you how much of a mess I am!" Was he sighing now? Not only that, but he also was crouching quite uncomfortably already. "You can run around when this has healed up, you hear me?", he chastised the blonde, before just dipping his entire face - and hair - into the water down below, only to resurface half an eternity later - as wet as a dog.

Did Caelan think, maybe even believe that he was nothing more than a pathethic, lost soul that had nothing to do except haunt him, even from beyond the grave if it ever came to that? What was the truth, if there even was one and how could he make all of this stick, to himself and onto this world that he loathed so much? "I'm aware, but change isn't always wrong, or is it? Sometimes change is for the better and whatever I change now or overtime ... wouldn't you have to accept it?" Maybe he'd become someone he wasn't, or he found out about so many things that - usually - went by in the blink of an eye. Ronan was worrying too much, was worrying about trivial things and was too worried about what a world of hate would gift him, a child of rage, without even questioning what he'd have to sacrifice to be accepted. "Do you know what you're saying?", he asked, peering up from where he crouched, knowing well enough that this was all what he could ask for - that Caelam meant what he was saying, if it ever came to that. "Don't be silly, you can't just put your love for me above your morals, above your country. As sad as it is, and as heartwrenching as this confession is, don't just sacrifice it all for me. I would do the same for you and yet, do we really want that? Can we really do that?"

And yet, wasn't running away a much more of cowardly act? They'd have to make decisions sooner or later and despite bringing it up himself, now that Caelan agreed with him and didn't deny it, he was the one taking it back and deciding that it wasn't worth the effort - that there was nowhere to go, nowhere to belong for them either way. "And here I thought you'd make another joke or tell me about how you punched Cameron square in the face - and instead you unveil your biggest secret!" Then again, the lone thought about the masquerade made him horribly giddy and excited about something so simple, he couldn't help but wipe away those pesky tears and chuckle about it. "You actually gave the colors a thought? And you got matching masks too? Aren't you afraid that someone will ask you when we're getting engaged? Well, regardless, that's something nice ... I barely can wait", now, the question was who he'd ask to do his hair and his make-up - was there even someone that would entertain the thought and not question why he was putting all of that on? "It's not physical pain, I know your face hurts and yet you're smiling like the dork that you are. Aren't you ... hurt by your father, or hurt by anything else? Can you just cast all of it aside like that?" Why did he even question him that much? In the end, he barely could help himself and now he was torturing Caelan with all of these simple but useless thoughts. "I have no intentions of saddling you with my feelings and then running off! Have some faith in me, will you?", he said, his lips curling into a slight smile, barely visible anyway. "I'll share my baggage with you if you share yours with me, how about that?" If they'd just take care of one another, things would work out, no? "Do you still want to wash my hair or should I swallow you whole, sailor?", he asked, but leaned into Caelans touch once more - why did it feel so good anyway?

"So, what you're saying is, either you support me until the very end, or you will be unable to deal with me and the change in my mood at some point? Now, not that I want you to leave me, but the prospect alone, of a situation like that existing, feels odd. I'll not try to find out what it means to get on your bad side either way", he confessed. As much as he hated himself, he couldn't hate the blonde - and as much as he wanted to believe that to be the truth, he didn't even know where to start his personal vendetta against himself. Was this all just talk, was this all just a denial of the truth that he had never understood, or was it him, spouting countless lines of nonsense, just so that he could - at some point in his life - figure out what it was that he truly wanted? Ronan felt dumbfounded, felt stupid enough to believe himself and yet he asked himself if this all was happening because his father had conditioned him to believing so much bullshit - wasn't it just that? Maybe Caelan was right, Darragh held too much power over him and in the end, that resulted in him not only believing all of that stupid bullshit he spouted, but also starting to loathe himself for who he seemingly was. "So you'd give me Fhaergus, just to prevent fighting me, so you can stick by my side? Caelan, you're ... I don't think I deserve you."

Both young and naive, introverted and self-depreciating, was there any better way to describe him? When confronted with things he did not agree with, mild nuisances of the world and other things, he found that his own hate was bigger than his desire to go on, than his will to do things that would - otherwise - help him back on his feet. "You're bad at keeping secrets it seems - we do have to work on that, don't we?" Now, who was the child and who the adult between the two of them? They both, most likely, were neither and only focusing on the basics of each others words. "To marry Caelan of Fhaergus and to become the Duchess of a land so cold, so frigid - I wonder if that would be a nice alternative for me. At least I'd have you to love me and to keep me warm", he chuckled, wanting to cuddle back up to the blonde, but again, he couldn't - he wanted to wash his now soaked hair, wanted to feel like a whole new person when he re-emerged from the tub and he wanted nothing more than to be free of his current struggle, yet, he was entangling himself more and more into it. "I'm glad you found a way to vent your frustrations and I'm glad you've seemingly conquered them, but ... don't you ever dream about proving your father wrong, dream about showing him that you're so much more than he thinks you are?" Why was he inquiring like this, prodding a long healed wound? Did he want a definite answer, or was he just bored enough? "Maybe one day I will, but ... for now, I'll have to wait until I gain that understanding, whenever that'll be." ROnan felt bad for being unable to commit to something, but for now, it barely mattered - only for now, not for later. "Whatever you say", he mused, turning around and leaning back against the blonde. "Mh, when your wound's all healed up, what about a trip to the lake? Well, not that lake, but there's one close to Kilead."

"In the end, me becoming someone else would mean I'm no longer the person you feel in love with - I understand as much, Caelan. Luckily for you, I intend to change for the better whenever I can, not become someone I'm not and that means becoming who my father wants me to be - which is just a watered down version of his own egoistic ass", he sighed. There had been no plans to become like Darragh of Alster, not on his part at least and if he was terribly honest, he'd never planned on even considering that. Of course, being like his father would not only mean he could become someone respected and feared by his peers, but did he, truly and actually, want that or was it merely a thought that he was having, that - in all honesty - was not only absurd but also faulty to begin with. "So we deserve each other, then?", he chuckled, knowing that neither of them deserved one another - or at least Ronan thought as much. "Me, a better duke than you? On paper, maybe, but definitely not when it comes to ruling my people and raising morale! ... You know, even that sounds like we're unable to do anything without the other and I wonder why that is, or why we can't just have an alliance that would allow us to govern Alster and Fhaergus as a whole." Forming an alliance was not exactly frowned upon, but one might think that someone like Ronan or Caelan was plenty capable of caring for their own country by themselves. In the end, it only was a sign of weakness - the acceptance of not being able to keep afloat any longer without the much needed support of another party. Was this all there was to it, or was it merely a suggestiong that, despite feeling right, was actually a stir in the wrong direction for the two of them? "Not that secret! Something entirely else!", he blurted out. Now, he couldn't tell Caelan what his other secret was, but to be fair, he merely was joking around and could at least default to 'there not being another', but as if Caelan would buy that bullshit once more.

Maybe it was actually just a farce, actually just a bluff that he was pulling, but Ronan knew there was something else to it. "So, you tell me to cast aside myself - well, my actual self and live my life as a woman, pretending to be of noble standing from god knows where in the south and you just so happen to court me? Caelan, this is ridiculous", he laughed. No way in hell something as stupid and naive like this would work, but he'd love to try, somehow. "If you're going to be duke one day, that merely means you'll have plenty of opportunities to prove your father wrong and show him that you're so much more than his brother, no? Therefore, I suggest you take to the throne and becoming who you ought to be, how's that?", he asked, smiling - and yet, Caelan couldn't see that smile of his, only the back of his head. When was the last time someone had taken to washing him, exactly? It must have been months ago, before he got to know Caelan, when his head was pounding and his wrists hurting - when he couldn't even think about moving himself anywhere and his bloodshot eyes were enough to tell anyone what had happened. Thinking about it, about how the water had gone from crystal clear to a murky, pale reddish brown in a few seconds mad ehim feel like throwing up - first, falling off of a tree had proven to be useless, then cutting open those wrists of his didn't work either and when he'd raised his voice against his father, in complete stupor and daze, he'd been beaten up, too. Now, there was no servant washing him, just his boyfriend, who carefully untangled loose strands of hair and, even more carefully, was washing it. Did he really deserve someone as loving as Caelan? "Whenever you feel up to the task, we can do it whenever. I mean, there's a lake not far from here, but I doubt you'd want to jump into a still somewhat frigid, oversized pond."

"If only", he joked, laughing about it and getting all worked up about the prospect. If there was, in fact, no problem, they wouldn't be sitting here like this, stuck in their own dreamworld, trying to figure out a way that would allow them to be together, regardless of their gender, their standing and their eventual feelings for one another. If only they'd been peasants, Ronan wondered, wouldn't they just have been able to take the loss of their immediate family, of all their belongings and go somewhere, without ever having someone follow after them? Then, it wouldn't be such a taxing decision why, when or where to leave, what they had to think about to have nobody trail after them, or why they'd have to stage their death in the first place. "You never know. I'm not saying you'd have to raise morale among some of your troops, what I'm getting at is, if the land is prospering, your people are and therefore, all of you - or most of you - would be happy. But if you're having a hard year, you, as their duke, would have to pick them up and promise them that it'll get better. I'm sure you'd be good at it ... as for paperwork, do you want to join me? I can teach you what I know." If Allard of Fhaergus was unwilling to teach his own son, then Ronan of Alster would not mind helping out instead. "And what if they ask for proof? Last time I checked, I still had a dick and no sign of budding breasts", he joked, holding back laughter.

"I'm not telling you. Not now, at least!" And there he was again, sticking out his tongue. Ronans gaze wandered downward, to his exposed chest - to smooth, scarless skin, whereas his back was pressed against Caelans chest and his much more toned figure. If Ronan thought about it, Caelan ... wouldn't even like him if he was a girl, would he now? He himself had said that while having sex with a girl, he never felt much of a thing - it didn't feel good, not like it did with him. Wasn't it odd? "You? In a dress?", Ronan couldn't hold back anymore and started laughing. "I love you, but for the love of god, no. Caelan, you are way too ... burly to pass as a lithe woman. "If we have to, I'll help you prove your father wrong in so many things, he'll regret to ever have doubted or looked down upon you, I promise you that." If he couldn't prove his own father wrong, someone who didn't even deserve to be called that, at least he'd have fun roasting Allard of Fhaergus on an open fire - and regret not doing anything to his own, even though he knew that Darragh would murder him in cold blood. Caelan was a diligent worker it seemed and Ronan enjoyed the feeling of the warm water, even though it already had lost some of his heat - he still had the blonde to warm him while he washed him and for once, he felt eternally grateful to no have to move his arms and his aching, sore wrists any longer. "I know, I ... think that's also one of the things I'd like to change about myself, alongside my inability to really get up in the mornings and feel like an undead, hanging onto some semblance of life", he said, eventually leaning into the hug. "What now, puppy?"

"And here I am, doubting that you'd be incapable of doing the same. We're both going to make the best of our situations, whether we want to or not, this is up to us. I think it is, at least. Maybe, just maybe, we should come up with a plan B, though. Just in case something goes south." War was still a possible option, but if it happened, then most likely with the south, not the wolves. Ronan doubted that the wolves, of all people, would be stupid enough to challenge them and yet, he wasn't sure about any of it. Maybe Darragh was right, maybe wolves were nothing but dirty vermins that spent their days, breathing away the sheep's air and doing nothing but black magic, but even if they were, he would have showed an aptitude for it, sooner or later - or his father would have told him, but neither of that had happened. "It's not that extensive, sometimes it's just answering letters or looking over requests from the locals and denying them, as simple as that. I'm not going to show you anything forbidden or otherwise sensitive. Also, my paperwork has been in your room for days - you could have seen it by now", he explained to Caelan - and he wasn't wrong. It had been in there for what felt like half an eternity and frankly, he had given up on trying to hide it anyway. "If you want to lend me a hand, I'll show you", he said, then his expression twisted into something mortified for a second. "THAT would hurt, if not kill me.

So, I'd maybe rather ... leave it where it is and play pretend, thank you very much." If, by any chance, Ronan of Alster was to sleep with the fish at some point, they could still go for that route and play pretend. What would he even do, as Duchess of Fhaergus, unable to bear his beloved any heirs? "Again, I'm not telling you! Not now! Also ... what are we even going to do? I cannot bear your children, you know." Even if they tried, bearing the child of another man was not only unheard of but also impossible, he knew as much. What if he just tried his best to come up with another plan, to kidnap a child from somewhere? "And you'd rip it, especially if it's my size", he joked along, knowing that Caelan wouldn't be as stupid as to get a dress in the wrong size, though, he barely could explain his measurements as that of a woman, even if she herself was on the burlier side - nothing of it would add up. "We're not going to please him, we're going to defy him - but if you don't want to, I won't bother you about it any longer", he confessed. Where would this lead? Was there a chance for him to figure it all out or was he basically stuck with doing whatever his brain told him was right? If that meant to remain in Caelans arms forever, so be it. "Hm, I probably should get some breakfast and you should go back to bed before the doctor finds out about us, doing this. Can you move?" Ronan himself got up, got out of the tub and offered the blonde a hand. "Take it easy."