hellbound. (earinor & akira)

“The crown is a manacle.”, Dayan grumbled in turn. Heavy was the head that wore the crown - it was a fate like no other, one that he wanted to spit on, set aflame and hope it would disappear into nothingness. “It’s not that I desire a good for nothing life like that freak.”, he spat, the sour aftertaste in his throat permeating through the air as it poisoned his words, sharpened them like the tip of an arrow shot to kill. “It’s that this is not what I want, and not how my life should be. Dwelling on what if’s and maybe’s won’t help, I know, I’m not stupid, but it also won’t help to just swallow everything down, to act like I’m perfectly fine and capable of shouldering responsibility on my back that I don’t want and barely anybody wants me to have.” After all, what was he, if not the late kings burden to adopt, to raise, to feed? Unlike some of them, like Richard, he wasn’t a mutt but a purebred bastard, an enemy, an eyesore of thrian descent, tolerated but not liked, hardly loved. “Are you freer than your brother?” Interest was tinging his words like they’d been soaked in gasoline and Lucien was lighting sparks, yet came short of fully igniting them. Dayan snorted. “I barely saw you anywhere, ever. Sure, reading’s a fine hobby, but I bet you do more than that - doesn’t it suck to do the paperwork?”, he teased Lucien, riding along him as they started moving again, the tempo much slower to keep the conversation afloat.

“Well, assuming you do the paperwork. Maybe you’re just a recluse … or it’s because people have incredibly skewed opinions on you. You either love or hate Olette and it’s people, there’s hardly an in-between. Not like I wouldn’t know what that feels like. I’m either accepted or a parasite. No in-between’s there either.” The people Dayan called his friends and more often acquaintances, the ones that were forced to do their parents bidding at times, to spend their time filing paperwork, to do the dirty work against their will, they all either hated or loved that place, and with whether way their opinion went, they either didn’t care about his heritage or made it a talking point. “Sorry for what? Gods, stop being ridiculous.”, Dayan rolled his eyes, then elbowed Lucien gently. “I wouldn’t have left the palace even now, maybe not even gone to the stables to even look at my horse. Hell, I’d not have picked out any new clothes for the coronation, either. I don’t feel great out here, I’ll admit.” His eyes roamed the lush plane in front of them, the flowers that bloomed on the meadow, the leaves as they gently swayed in the wind, rocked back and forth over and over again. “I insist.” With that sorted out, they could go on, until they found a good spot for Lucien to appreciate. “Mhm, and that’s why I’m insisting. Looking for you will be a nightmare. My siblings? More than fine, I know where I’d find them, where they’d go, but you? I would guess you’d try to make your way back to the castle and rode into a completely different direction.” It wouldn’t be fun - if he knew Lucien better, though, he’d likely have a hunch where he’d want to go, what he’d think the logical steps to get there were and how he’d fuck them up, so he’d wind up somewhere else. Whatever this talent was, it was useful every once in a while. “I wanted to go to the forest, but if you appreciate the meadows and hills more, we can just stay out here for now.”

"I know, I'm just saying that maybe it isn't as bad as you think it is.", Lucien answered. Maybe he upset Dayan. "I think you underestimate the Lords all over. If anything, they don't want a war and if you don't take up the crown, there will be one. Bastard sons of the late king, distant Fhaergus relatives, exiled families that ruled way before all this... You are the best choice. The peaceful choice. A choice people can get behind. The king officially adopted you, you are his son, even if Richard was to take the crown initially. You have the support of Olette, Fhaergus and Alster and your grandfathers ties to Stenz didn't die with him. The people here in Myriad know you as well, they know you'll be just and that you were raised by your father, the king that liberated them from the mad king before him. What does that even leave? Wezette? The late king had ties there as well, your families are friends and surely you received some griefence letters from there. Lavern? None of them have voiced any concerns and after everything, they are still not as influential as the rest of Adrestia who stand behind you, especially since they lack an alternative." Olette controlled Lavern, so that wasn't an issue, but Lucien rather kept this under wraps, his point was already clear. "The only person that stands between you and the crown is you yourself and your self doubts. You'll be a great king, you were raised by one after all." Now the topic shifted and Lucien looked at Dayan, his smile only creeping slowly onto his lips. "Maybe not now, I was sent here while he probably trains, because it is what he enjoys. Though I rather do what I am good at here and help you, than sit at home bored. Paperwork and reading doesn't bother me, neither does delegating tasks. It's something my brother is very bad at, I rather do things I am good at rather than try and chase him."

Riding alongside Dayan Lucien focused on their conversation, yet looked around, acting like he had a real interest in the scenery. "Ah, I'm around, just not participating in the tournaments like Ares, or you. I am not as valiant as him, nor am I as charismatic, strong, or attractive. It's easy to miss me next to him, but it's true, my family isn't very well liked after what my grandfather has done and naturally there is some mistrust. I don't listen to rumors though and neither should you. We can't change our past, our circumstances or how we look. I get it, you have some Thrian features and I? Everybody can see who I am related to. With Ares, he already surpassed the superstitions by simply being himself and very popular with the young ladies of Adrestia, which only means that it is possible to surpass any bias." Lucien had very selected friends he curated around him like his own persona. Interested in fashion, good wine and accessories, chatting away with him in a corner, talking about mundane and unimportant things. Maybe the boring normalcy was just what someone like him needed however. Dayan was thankful for Luciens little ruse it seemed, even touching him slightly, as if he didn't normally shirking any contact to another human being. Lucien left it uncommented and simply smiled. "As I said, I am here to help.", he reiterated, knowing that out of an Olettians mouth, it seemed impossible there wasn't another, selfish thought behind it. He gave Dayans reasons before. Trade was their business and war would be bad. Selfishly ensuring everyone was aboard with Dayan was all he was here for, sent by his father of course. A believable lie, hopefully. Lucien chuckled. "Id die out there." Another lie. Maybe he wasn't the bad at foreign but he was used to starve, used to hardship, even falling of his horse, breaking a few bones, wasn't enough to just kill him, or even make him afraid for his life. "Oh, either is fine, as long as you don't leave me behind in the woods. We can go wherever you feel like and I can also shut up, if I'm talking too much for your taste."

"Most things aren't as bad as you make them out to be initially, that's just how life is - we all think about how doomed we are, or how we have hurdles to overcome, and then, when you can't even do that, they crush you under their weight. Metaphorically, at least, not physically.", Dayan scoffed, distaste for the topic tinging his voice. None of his feelings were unfounded, they came from genuine fear that he could and would never be able to control, as desperately as he wanted to, it just wasn't possible. "Who was talking about the Lords?" Whatever his expression was, it had to be akin to that of someone that had seen a ghost, doubled over, and then gotten back up, only to feel his own blood run colder than even the iciest of waters they had ever felt. Would he, too, be nothing but a stepping stone for those that lusted after a throne so coveted, the vultures it attracted might as well be crowned its guarddogs? Dayan couldn't say for sure, he never could, but he could guess, fathom and assume. "I don't fear them, not more than I've done before, and frankly, they're a smaller concern to me. What I fear is the subjects, the people. You can't simply uproot years of racism and hatred by hoisting yourself into the name of a Lord, a Duke of someplace, even if you're righteous enough. One bad apple doesn't spoil the bunch, but many bad apples are enough to leave you with few. Stepping foot into Alster is and always has been in a pain in the ass, and Olette and Lavern are only ever so slightly nicer at times. I've been places, you can't change your populations opinion overnight, but it's ridiculous to fear those that hold little power alone. I pity them." Speaking of, Lavern felt like the odd one out, like it was still a husk of what it was supposed to be - he couldn't remember anything worthwhile of the place, not for even one second, like the last duke had gutted the place and given its proceeds to the man he dedicated his entire being, every single fibre of it, to. The late king, not his father, but the former. "I'll mesh about as well with the title and position of the royal crown as a fish walks and breathes on land. Don't be ridiculous." His outlook on life wasn't grand, either, but Dayan had no reason to cut it short, even if fate seemingly willed it, against all of his inner protests. "I appreciate your help." It was a short, curt sounding response, the sour topics lingering. "You two sound like night and day." And Lucien wasn't making much sense with what he imparted upon him, either - it was like he tried to wedge his foot in one door, then the other, and slipped out of the former before he could fully get into the latter.

Then again, even someone like Lucien ought to be nervous, much like Dayan was - his nerves weren‘t making it with him to or through the coronation, he‘d drown them in alcohol and the light them aflame with the first spark he could grab ahold of. Perhaps leaving Myriad to those interested only in power was wrong, and yet, he wanted to be selfish quite badly. “Lucien.”, he cleared his throat, followed by a deafening sigh, loud enough to theatrically express disappointment. “Not what I meant. You shouldn’t put yourself down, you’re plenty capable, as you said yourself. If you compare yourself to Ares in ways like that, it’s like comparing apples and pears. You like to protect your peace and quiet, and I don’t take you for a guy that’s into sleeping around - you put on a show when you have to wedge yourself out of your comfort zone and once that’s over, you can be yourself. That’s fine. If it works for you it works. No use praising Ares like he fell from the skies as a shooting star and graced us all with his benevolent presence - are you his brother or his servant? I doubt he sings your praises in comparison.” With him and Richard, it was different - they were attached at the hip, always had been, like a set of twins that couldn’t look more different, and whenever they had to be apart, they couldn’t help but gush about the other. Sure, it got less and less as they grew older and matured, but when prompted, Dayan would always talk about Richard like the big brother he was - he was proud of his little brother, of all the burdens that he shouldered and challenges he overcame. “Also,” Dayan cleared his throat once more, his fingers trembling as thick, disorienting fog clouded his mind - he got stuck on Richard, on how he missed him, on how he failed him, and how much his wounds suddenly hurt after doing so well to ignore them. “Overcoming bias is possible, but for that, you’ll have to have a common denominator, a foot in the door. For most of the people that hate my heritage, I don’t - and you’ll have a smaller, but fair share of them as well. Changing their mind is impossible, even if you’re Ares, because no matter what you do, it’ll prove some sort of stupid prejudice they had.” At this point, he clutched the reins of his horse harder, but showed no other indicator of discomfort - Dayan swallowed it all down, as was best, as was his duty, and left it at that. Right here, right now this was as good as anything he had. Looking at Lucien, everything still felt off, enough to piss Dayan off. What was wrong with this guy? It was something that he’d noticed before, though, maybe he was just fucked up and it was unrelated to anything. Who knew what his home life was like? Dayan wouldn’t go digging for stories that he couldn’t discern, or had no right of knowing, not right now. “And you’re appreciated for it, not in spite of.” Leading his horse along the meadow, he finally set his sights on a patch of grass further down, leaving the pathway laid out in front of them, brashly beckoning Lucien after him with but the wave of his hand. “Myriad isn’t that dangerous or vast and unpopulated to get lost and genuinely die - you’d be fine. Stop thinking about the worst case scenario, and besides, you are thin but you’d manage a week or two, I’m sure. Ditching you would be needlessly cruel, and isn’t my thing.” At some point, they reached the spot, and Dayan unmounted with a bit of unease, letting himself fall into the grass not long after immediately - he lay there, sprawled out, eyeing the mostly cloudless sky, his horse fussing over him for a second before looking for a good spot to graze. “Five minute break.”, he forced past his lips, clenching his teeth - the pain would hopefully leave soon.

"I'm not.", Lucien refused, honest for once. He knew his place and what he needed to do, that was all there was to it. Clearly he grew up very different to Dayan, the war nor a constant reminder of what terrible things have happened and even if it was, feelings like guilt or sadness were extinguished for him a long time ago, so much so he didn't even lament his own fate. This was just how it was and how it should be. "You are fearing the commonfolk won't accept you? They follow their lords, even if there is talking amongst them, they won't uproot their own countries because they are unhappy with the king and as long as their bellies are filled, there is nothing to complain. Everyone is doing much better than they did before your father took the throne and as long as it stays that way, they will follow. You needn't concern yourself with being liked by them, albeit it being righteous of you to worry about their wellbeing. If it pleases you I can think up something that will turn them over to you a bit more, your first decree as king, for the people, not the lords. That said, your father wasn't liked everywhere either. He dragged the war into our country, many in Lavern, Myriad and Olette especially died in those battles, but you simply can't make everyone like you. It helps if a king is loved and doesn't rule by fear, but even then there will always be people who are unhappy, or simply blame their bad luck in life on someone else. Think of Thria as well, even though they don't belong to the territories, they certainly want you on that throne and not someone of Myriad, connected to the mad king. They support you as well, you are in the unique position of being Thrian but raised and by heart Adrestian. The unification and peace your father persued, you can finish, that was what he intended with your brother as well, was it not? Albeit only half, he was Thrian too, to keep the peace between our nations. Maybe for once your father was wrong to believe they wouldn't accept you as well and wrong to make you think your heritage makes you less than the rest of your family. You've never given the chance to proof to the people that you are as much in their service is any other Adrestian, but you have it now." Of course Dayan disagreed with everything he got. "Give yourself a chance." The topic turned back to Lucien, who acknowledged the curt thanks but didn't waffle on about it, as if he didn't deem his skills noteworthy. "The only thing I have in common with my brother is the color of our hair.", he simply replied. Even their features were different, Lucien looked more like his mother, Ares like his father.

Lucien chuckled listening to Dayans next words, his question amused Lucien. He was but a pawn, a tool, less than a servant maybe, to his brother and father. He wasn't Ares brother first and foremost and not his fathers son either. He was a means to an end, sometimes a weapon because of his quick wit and sharp tongue. Dayans family was different, they respected each other, they were equals, but that was not how Olettes ruling family worked, it never did. Love had no place in a family of theirs, all that counted was their usefulness in keeping or even strengthening their power and thus ensuring their survival. Ares was to continue the bloodline and Lucien would take the fall if things ever turned bad. The war for them has never stopped, they were still scheming, especially now that Lucien tried to get a foot into Myriad, to no particular end, just to have more control. This whole situation was brought on by them, by Luciens father who bided his time until the sick king finally died. If Lucien had any feelings left in him, maybe he'd feel bad to lie to Dayan like this, to use him, but he hadn't and as long as he played a role, he simply was a young Lords son, sent to help out the new king. "You should listen to your own advice.", he simply stated with a teasing smile as if he only praised Ares to make Dayan say what he should here himself. "And thus you shouldn't care about having the favor of all your subjects. It will never happen. As long as the country stays save and there isn't any external or internal wars, you did your job as king well. Even if they run their mouths in a tavern, talking about the mut on the throne, so what? It needn't concern you and those people would have condemned your brother as well and condemned your father for siding with Thrians, letting them into the country and even get one pregnant to have a half breed. I think you know all that and you try to find excuses to not take the crown, even though you are the rightful heir to the throne." Dayan needed someone who told him off, not someone to kiss his ass like everybody around him. Lucien was honest, believing that it was what Dayan needed, he needed to know Lucien told him what he was thinking, not what he thought Dayan wanted to hear. Dayan beckoned him off the road and Lucien followed. "Maybe you're just rubbing off on me.", Lucien jabbed at Dayan who was definitely the one always seeing everything in the worst possible light. Dayan got off his horse and Lucien did the same, hopping off and landing softly on the grass. The sun felt nice, Lucien was used to warmer temperatures. "Are you hurt?", Lucien asked, looking at the grass. He didn't want to get his clothes dirty, but he sat down next to Dayan anyway. "We can take more than five."

Dayan rolled his eyes, in annoyance as much as it was in complicit realization that no matter what he said, it seemed to go into one of Luciens ears, get stuck in his brain and he spouted something that Dayan hardly wanted to hear, even if it wasn't a nice way to think about it. Fearing his subjects was about a valid reason as any as to not want to ascend the throne that seemeed like a hurdle once it was occupied, one that people would love tearing apart in just a small second if they could manage to get their hands on him. Dayan wanted none of this, yet, couldn't make anyone realize that this was as much about him as it was about any of their lives, eventually resigning to simply not speaking about the misgivings of his crude fate, not yet cruel, not yet a gift to him. "Fact is, I don't want it.", his voice sounded firm but stung, embittered as he let the waves of words cascade across his mind like a fool, as if that would change anything, as if it would make him feel more inclined to be someone he was never meant to be. His heritage, his adoption, his fathers good deeds - they didn't culminate in him, he was only his son in name, in water, not in reality, not in blood - it was disgusting to think that he could ever amount to as much as that man, or the brother he adored like no other, when in truth, he was an entirely different man, a jaded person as much as his own parents were, not perfect, but they didn't have to be, they still shone brighter than anything he'd ever seen, as did Richard, but Dayan? He was no diamond in the rough, no jewel worth polishing - and he didn't need or want to be. Like this, he could live, thrive off of nothing but his own expectations, until the morning clouds, still orange from the glow of the rising sun, beckoned him outside, into the wilderness, onto the mountains, where nothing persisted but a few plants and animals, were his only companions were lonely goats with nothing to impart and birds, prey and predator alike, soaring the vast skies. "At what? Becoming something I'd hate to be?", he sneered in disbelief. "I don't share a drop of blood with mine and yet we're closer.", was all he awarded Lucien with - it was like he figured it to be. Ares was an awful lout, he knew as much, but Lucien? He was so far removed from him, Dayan wouldn't have made the connection, were it not for the fiery hair.

As he earth and grass gave away around him, his body sunk into the muddy ground and sullied his fine clothes, Dayan put his lower arm over his eyes, his chest heaving with hurt, both physically and mentally. To allow himself to show weakness was to open himself up to the enemy, to allow them to gaze between the blinds of his soul, but what enemy was out here? An olettian twerp that was doing everything in his power to make his ascension to the throne, and therefore nothingness, as smooth as possible? Sure. "Pah. If I listened to my own advice I'd not be in this mess in the first place. My advice isn't good, or infallible - nobodies is." Of all the brothers in the world, Lucien had the worst one, one that he didn't pick, one that Dayan didn't like and one that, for all reasons known to not just them, was maybe better off being nothing than an amalgamation of the worst traits of any man combined. To him, the heir to the throne of Olette, the title of Duke, was a haughty, prissy idiot, who had more brawns than brain, but he was nowhere near stupid, which made him difficult to endure or read, much like it was horrid to squeeze any semblance of usable emotion out of Lucien. "With all my subjects on my side there'd be nothing to fear, but like this? Surely, what if's and could be's are the wrong way to consider the future, but right here, right now? My future isn't my own anymore, and the way I wind up looking in their eyes is the way I'll be perceived for the rest of my life. As it stands, I'm an eyesore, one that shouldn't not be where I'm headed, and you know what? Normally, I'd welcome that, because I don't care, but now I have to." Not once could he ever be the unapologetic version of himself that had aimlessly strode through his life before - all the determination he'd tried to upholster onto his features had drained from him, like the colors from the world that he once lived in. Tragedy masked itself as a disaster, crawled about in the givings of a familiar face and then, it ripped and tore and shredded through flesh, until it either grasped ones heart, squeezed it with vigor, or left it be, preying on someone else. "Doubt it. I'm in a foul mood and one afternoon being enough to rub off on you would paint a pretty shitty picture." The implications made Dayan scowl, his fingers and chest feeling stiffled, his breathing still not evened, still hitching. "Do you always take everything Ares hurls your way?", he curiously asked, to get the conversation flowing down a different direction, hopefully at the very least. "Five is all I need." Though, he likely was close to past to that. "I'm a bad liar, probably." Dayan groaned, in pain this time. "I feel like I've gone through the wringer, so yes, I'm hurt, both ways."

"That is apparent. The ones not grasping for power are usually the better rulers though. Your father didn't want the throne either, he didn't come back to Adrestia to conquer it.", Lucien replied calmly. The late king had been older too, more mature and he probably didn't act like his son did right now. "A chance at proving everyone and yourself that you will be a fine king.", he replied to Dayans question. The less he wanted it the better probably. If he shirked the responsibility, maybe he'd put it on someone else, Lucien, or rather his father in that case. He wasn't a tyrant, this wasn't about returning to the ways of the past, about war or racism, this was about securing their family line and their wealth, that was all. Dayan had nothing to fear giving up control to Olette, but he couldn't exactly tell him that. "This isn't about blood anyhow. It doesn't matter who you are born as, it matters how you grow up and you grew up here and were taught by your father." They were going at circles, but Lucien had a lot of patience. He simply sat there, giving Dayan his space, also by having positioned himself a bit further ahead of him, so he didn't feel watched.

"None of this is your fault.", he firmly stated. "You are sounding pretty racist there yourself. You don't even look especially Thrian. What is it that you want then? Run away?", Lucien asked. There was so much complaining eventually he'd do it. It wouldn't help to coddle him and build him up over and over again, Lucien wouldn't support any plan of that sort and he'd not let it happen either. Dayan was probably too dutybound anyway, but still. "I'm going to be frank now. You sound like a spoiled brat. You were willing to let your brother have the throne and be stuck here with all the responsibility, but now that it's your turn, you are selfishly complaining about all that you would have willingly put on his shoulders instead. Nobody can choose their fate and among other people who start their lives as orphans, or poor, having to work from a young age onwards to keep their sick family alive, complaining about having to sit in a chair and make some decisions every now and then while dining quite literally like a king seems silly. Maybe your future belongs to the realm, but you still have many freedoms and can choose a plethora of paths to take. Others don't have that privilege. Heavy is the head that wears the crown indeed, but you are not the only one suffering, or the only one that has little agency over their immediate future. It's okay to grief over your family and it's okay to be overwhelmed by the situation, but you are also selfishly only talking about how it made your life so much worse, because you have to take the crown now. I have never even once heard you say you just miss your family." Lucien counted himself among those other people. Once he was old enough to speak, he was molded into who he was now with nothing left of himself. He never had any freedom to choose anything in his life and even if he dined lavishly now, there had been times when he ate moldy food from a dirty cell floor. While Dayan and Richard and his other siblings played in Myriads gardens, laughed and relaxed, he was locked up in a tiny cell with no chance of escape, not seeing the sunlight for months and when he was let out he had to play the picture perfect son and brother who simply went to study abroad every few months. Dayan tried to change the topic, deflecting his own problems onto Luciens family he knew nothing about. "What do you mean? There is nothing he throws at me, we don't talk often." Ares held enough power over Lucien but it was nothing like Dayan thought it was and in their pretend normal lives, Ares was just honing his skills while Lucien read some books on the other side of their estate. Petty little rivalries didn't exist in their family and Lucien and Ares didn't fight or hate each other either. It was quite boring. "Then we should probably just stay here.", Lucien replied, shortly getting up to get his book, afterwards he sat back down again somewhere close to Dayan, putting the book in the grass for now, closed.

Was his head reeling or rolling? Dayan wondered about the difference, or if it even made sense for him to continue fighting an opinion that Lucien simply head - he was thick headed at the worst times, a great attitude to have, but he wasn’t prone to lashing out, or even having a meltdown over something so small in the grand scheme of things. This wasn’t great, he ought to admit, but what had ever been better than his fathers soothing encouragement in a tangle of webs, an amalgam of lies that spread within the confines of his mind like a thick fog that none were able to make dissipate? Richard. Right. His little brother’s presence and wellbeing was enough to carry him across a thousand oceans, to conquer the eye of a storm, but even he was snuffed out like a barely flickering flame - and Dayan? He felt like a headless corpse, piloting a body that absolutely did not want to be moved any further. “That’s what you think.” But not how he thought - it wasn’t how he could think. Just because he was the late kings son, by name, by agency, didn’t mean he was absolved of all that his entire existence brought with it. Were he a simple Adrestian, an orphan, with no trace of thrian blood, surely the people would have wanted him to ascend the throne over his brother, or at least tried to poison the well that this was related to, but like this, he was poisoning other wells, without intending to.

“Oh, am I now?” His eyes narrowed, even if they didn’t behold Lucien for a single moment, only the scenery as his arm finally slipped, no longer cloaking them in darkness. “Well, sorry I don’t fit your expectations of what a Thrian should look like. And no, I’d rather be dead, but killing myself is nothing I want - I’m unhappy. Not that I lived, but that I couldn’t protect anyone. Good enough of an answer?” There were deeper seated issues at hand than his hatred - Dayan wasn’t depressed, he’d never been, and this was simply putting a temporary dampener on his mood. Hell, if he were any less close to his family, maybe it’d affect him less, maybe he’d be out there doing anything he could before his coronation, from scaling mountains to running through caves, or whatever else he could think of if he was sound out mind, but was he? No. There wasn’t a moment of peace now, not like this, and it pissed Dayan off - Lucien pissed Dayan off, if he was frank. “Am I now?” Instead of laying down, he forced himself up - his body felt stiff, like rigor mortis was setting in, his nerves screamed at him and the grimace he made as he listened to Lucien was enough of an indicator of his pain. With him coming closer, he could at least stare him down now that they saw eye to eye, albeit begrudgingly. “I haven’t had time to grieve much. I don’t talk about it with anyone, because I don’t have anyone anymore. And why the hell would I rest those worries in your arms? I’m selfish once in my goddamn life if you want to call me that, but whatever you think you know of me over what little interaction we’ve had, you don’t know shit. Sorry I’m not happy about being king, that was never what was intended for me - it took some years to get that into my skull as a kid, and years later, when I’m more than happy with not being some glorified know-it-all on a dingy chair, have plans for my own future, not only do I lose everything, I also get something I don’t want, like some shitty consolation prize, and then navigate both that and my grief? Oh, Lucien, I’m so sorry I’m not a crying mess that’s lamenting the deaths of my siblings and my parents right now, like that’s going to magically bring them back from the dead! Get a grip. If I keep moaning and whining about it in public too, I’ll sound like a grieving widow.” Dayan didn’t know if he was angry, or simply helpless, but there were tears in the corners of his eyes and he felt upset, especially when he reached for the collar of Luciens shirt, his gloved fingers wringing it tightly. “I miss them. It’s horrid. I’d rather have given my own life than let them lose theirs, and I feel responsible for that, but no amount of tears in the world is going to change anything. I feel like I’m rotting from the inside out, like my chest is tightening every single time I just think about them - the grief is drowning me, just long enough to make me feel like shit. I can’t sleep without seeing them, without being faced with my own failures. Spending one waking moment not lamenting it all can’t be too much to ask for. I tried my best to fight myself out of the castle and sideline those thoughts, for you, so you wouldn’t feel like you’re burdening me or annoying me. But I guess it is too much to ask for. Call me selfish one more time, I dare you.”, venom was what filled his voice from the beginning to the end, when he finally let go and let himself fall on his back again. Would Richard even have liked being king? Dayan wished he knew, could clamor onto some shred of hope, but no - he could only dry his tears before it got worse and swallow down his pride. “Aren’t you going to miss him one day, whenever it will be that he dies, be it two years or sixty years? He’s your brother, he should be your friend, not someone at an arms length.” Not that he liked Ares, but that sounded awful. If that were him and- … He should really stop drawing those comparisons. “Fine, whatever.”

"And why would someone who hauled himself up in his castle and never had to worry about other peoples opinions know more about what the people think than I do?", he asked Dayan flat out. Dayan knew himself that he never felt the need to carry any responsibilities or listen to someones opinions on his heritage. Compared to him Lucien worked all his life, he studied how people worked and how to please them inbetween sessions of torture and pain. He doubted Dayan knew more than him. "The point is that you project your self hatred on all the people around you and everyone in this realm, telling yourself them hating you is fact but having no intention to change it, because it's easier for you to sit around allegedly being hated by everyone than trying to make an effort.", he flat out told Dayan, his gaze unwavering. "I won't agree with that notion." If only Dayan would give him free reign over the coronation, everything would be done already, but Lucien tried to include him and get into his good graces. In the end, he was sure, just taking over the work for him, so he could sulk away in his room and making the evening as tolerable as possible for him would be enough to prove his worth, but Dayan didn't want to give up control like that and thus Lucien had to hold his hand through all of it. Frankly, he couldn't relate to anything Dayan was feeling.

When Dayan got onto his level Lucien simply kept looking at him, there wasn't any fear in his eyes, nor was there pity. "I don't need you to bare your all out to me, but all you do is complain and whenever I give a suggestion, you won't even entertain the thought as if I made a mere joke. My father sent me here to help you, but I can't help anyone who doesn't want to be helped, be that with the coronation or with your personal problems." Dayan grabbed his shirt and Luciens expression didn't change. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction Dayan wanted out of him, but Lucien simply looked at him, no fear, no anger, this was just Lucien how he truly was, even though maybe he should have feigned an emotion in that moment. "You needn't do anything for me. Going out surely does you good.", he replied and to his surprise was let go again. Dayan lay back down again, hiding his eyes. He shifted the topic again. "My family doesn't work like yours.", he simply replied. "I'm not staying away from him, we just don't have much in common. I am closer to my sister if that eases your mind. We are twins after all." She always missed him so much when he was gone for months and thus spent every second she could with him. She knew nothing of what the rest of her family did.

On and on, like he was spiraling downhill, like they were tussling and turning over the bend of one of Myriads hills, fighting for the fun of it. Dayan had nothing, had zilch, wanted nothing more than to end this stupid charade and move on with his life as it was, but that wasn’t possible - and yet, giving up, becoming the man that everyone wanted him to be, take it without complaint and be happy he was handed more spoons than he ever asked for, that was what people desired of him? A fake, sympathetic smile, an air of haughtiness and arrogance yet understanding and kindness, their fates his burden to bear, like he was the closest thing to god in the world of mortals, when he felt more like a single worker ant, raised to a status it didn’t want, nor was able to fulfill. “Aren’t you supposed to crawl so far up my ass I’m inclined to like you for being an asset?”, he questioned Lucien, not with contempt or ridicule - not that it made a difference. Talking to Lucien felt more like talking to a wall, to someone made of an unmoving, unloving matter that could never move or change, that was stiff, not just around the edges. A corpse, a wraith, something that came to haunt him for his failures. “You’re odd. Not in a bad way, though.”

The humdrum of silence was all that buzzed about, the wind no longer part of the fuzzy cotton feeling in his stuffed ears, his brain aching for something, or because of something, maybe. Did his head hurt? Dayan wasn’t sure what and where didn’t hurt, nor was he in the know if it would be fixed by beholding Lucien and the ill-given machinations behind those eyes of his that bore as little semblance of life as those of a fish out of water, deceased enough to start spreading its foul odor, yet not so long that he’d decay visibly. “Fine, that is on me. I don’t feel like letting anyone close is going to help, and I’m supposed to navigate this by my lonesome. You’re not going to be here forever to figure things for me out, and I don’t want anyone to do it for me forever, anyway.”, another grumble, low this time, almost apologetic, if Dayan wanted to be, but he wasn’t going to outright apologize, this was the best he could muster for now. A suppressed, pained groan followed. This sucked. “You’re my guest, of course I need to do something for you.” What a ridiculous notion Lucien had - he was as much of a guest as any other would be, and he’d be showered with enough familial love like any other guest would be, except that, this time, Myriad’s castle was bustling with life or a happy family, but a sole heir to the throne, his mood fouler than anyone was willing to deal with. “I had a hunch.” Hard to miss, really. “None of that eases my mind, does it ease yours? Wouldn’t you miss them if they never came back, wouldn’t they miss you if you disappeared, died, or something like that? Is your family really a family if-“ Dayan stopped himself, then turned over, trying to find a comfortable position. “I’m out of line, forget what I said.”

"A king that only surrounds himself with people agreeing with him, ought to fail in his endeavours. You can send me away, but I won't sugarcoat my opinion to please you.", Lucien replied clearly. Dayan for now has no helping hand, no one advising him and Lucien wondered were his father advisers went, albeit old and probably useless at this point. Dayan seemed to have sent a lot of people away, or maybe Luciens father had his hands in getting them out of the picture in time for his son to swoop in and save the day. "Why's that?", Lucien asked, wondering if he needed to change to achieve his goals here. Being awfully nice to Dayan didn't help, if he agreed with him, Dayan would actually run off and leave the crown to someone else. That was bad. He ought to keep his father legacy afloat, but right now he seemed angree at his family, as if they didn't die, but just left him behind. He wouldn't voice that, nor would he allow himself to think it formulated like that, but Lucien heard it in everything he said.

"All kings have advisors, your father had them too. You don't have to do everything by yourself and you don't need to figure everything out by yourself either, you can ask people for help and advise, that is normal. There aren't enough hours in a day to be knowledgeable about every little topic coming up." Lucien looked at Dayans pained expression, his body aching this time it seemed. "I am not here as a guest and I invited myself. If you want to do something for me, you ought to give me more free reign in the coronation. I know you don't want to bother with a lot of these things, if you let me I handle things without having to bother you all the time. I doubt you are interested in working out the seating order or the color of the napkins on the dinner table." He wasn't even trying to get more power than he should have, he would make this coronation a success, not overturn the country, but of course he was aware that Dayan would have troubles trusting an Olettian Lordling. Again about Luciens family. For once Lucien couldn't force this lie past his lips, that he would moarn Ares death. He wouldn't, not really, what he felt hearing his name was nothing he could explain to Dayan or anyone and since Dayan gave him the option not to answer, he didn't.

“I’m not sending you anywhere or condemning you for your opinion, you just do a good job at pissing me off.”, he admitted outright, quite aware that he should be the one to sugarcoat his complex set of emotions, the ones that he was feeling in this moment anyhow. Would Lucien hate him for it? Who knew, really. A set of those eyes was enough to creep him out and not want to stare into his face more than necessary, like they were hounding him down to the very depths of hell sometime soon. “You don’t push or pull, you just try. No idea if it works, no idea why you’re doing it, but it’s different. And also, I’d argue you’re weird. The kind of weird that makes me want to prod, and squeeze you until I find out why.” That, too, genuinely pissed Dayan off - Lucien wasn’t some sort of animal he could study in a cage, not that that ever had been a possibility or on his mind in the first place, but now? Everything seemed possible, every single bit of it. “Also, anyone else would bend over backwards for me if I just nicely asked, but I don’t want that, and if I told you to do it, you’d probably call me out. Which I appreciate.”

To have Lucien as an ally would likely be fine, though, it came with the gift of his family, which he was meant to keep at an arms length, if not further away. There was little he could do about that, and even considering the allyship of a poisonous spider was to consider sleeping in a nest of them, putting his life on the line for a few minutes of enjoyment. “Yes, but I’m not king yet, and I don’t want to be whatever the hell the king before my father was - if I wind up ruling like that, I might as well see how far across the castle courtyard I can kick the crown and who’s or what’s head it’ll land on and let whatever that is be king.”, he snorted in disbelief at his own, dumb idea of making a joke, or creating banter between the two of them. What an idiotic thing to say, and what a stupid way to think - Dayan didn’t feel great, not by a long shot, but the little things helped. “Ugh, really? That’s the kind of thing you’d enjoy? You’re like some of the maids, who’s eyes sparkled like they struck gold when they got told they could iron some clothes instead of sweep the floor. Fine, have it your way then, just tell me what you did at the end of the day, I won’t have any objections, not that we could still make them count anyhow.” Again, he turned, like he wasn’t sure how and where his body wanted to go, slide in place, make space. Finally, he had enough and sat back up, unbuttoning his shirt to check the bandages, which seemed fine, not riddled with blood, but the wound felt like it had a heartbeat of its own. Great.

"Maybe it gives you a different perspective, or simply someone else to draw your anger towards.", Lucien replied. Wasn't this refreshing? None of them doting on formalities and simply being honest with eachother? "Where are all your friends if you don't mind me asking? I mean, surely there had to be some people you stood in contact with?" Maybe that was an insensitive question, but only having his brother as a friend seemed like a bad idea, loving family or not. Lucien tilted his head. "I don't really know what that means and there is really nothing interesting about me. I can tell you about my childhood if you want." Not the truth of course, but maybe it would suffice to make Dayan think he knew what Lucien was all about. "Mhm, well thank you I guess. I am the wrong person to coddle you anyway and I don't fault you if you don't want to open up to a stranger, an Olettian stranger on top of it." He left it at that. Of course he'd listen and feign understanding if needed, but that time was not now.

"I think a big flaw the war crazed excuse of a king had was that he listened to no one actually. He spouted orders without knowing what was going on right in front of him and who disagreed was killed. You're already better than him because I still have a head on my shoulders." Lucien chuckled slightly and looked into the distance. "Well I'm from Olette, we love shooing other people around and giving orders and I have an eye for aesthetics which I can apply to the coronation. When everything fits together perfectly like one big piece in the end, it feels satisfying to me, you know? I've been planning events at home with my sister all the time. Given she is the more creative one that comes up with a theme or color scheme but I do the rest. You already picked a color scheme today, so that part is done." That for once was a real glimpse into Luciens life the past couple years. His sister always wanted him to to do something with her and prettying up their estate fitting different themes was something she enjoyed. She enjoyed spending money, Lucien took that trade onto himself partly and in the end he copied her excitement until it became part of his mask. "I don't mind objecctions and inputs if something is not to your liking. I'll give you a daily report if that is what you wish.", Lucien smiled contently. This made things easier. He looked over though raising an eyebrow only to see Dayan exposing his chest. The bandages weren't bloody and yet... "Have you had that checked by a doctor lately?"

“I’m ticked off at everything and everyone including myself at this point, and while I doubt I’d seriously harm you, ever, I can’t guarantee I won’t get annoyed. Just know that I can be better than that, and that I will apologize for any misgivings.”, Dayan elaborated, maybe for Lucien, maybe to ease his own mind. Whatever the case, this surely wasn’t the last time they’d clash over something, Dayan felt that somewhere in the pits of his stomach, where nothing else but pain lay. Would he benefit from having more people around him? Or would it just drive him nuts? “Sent them home. Some came by, tried to comfort me, and I didn’t want a single second of their pity, or couldn’t even get out of bed. They left, either because I told them to or the servants did, some maybe because they wanted to. I don’t mind, necessarily, it’s better like this - they’re much more touchy than I’d like to be right now.”, Dayan expressed, openly and without sugarcoating anything - this was what he’d been told, and what he had perceived himself. It only went to show that he was in no state to interact with anyone, let alone with those he loved like family. “If you don’t mind, I’ll listen.” Not that there was any need to lay his soul bare. “Now you’re discrediting yourself because of your heritage. I’m sure you’re good at coddling someone if you’d want to, but I don’t need that - I really don’t want that.”

When Lucien mentioned the old king, Dayan couldn’t help but snort - that guy was dangerous, sure, but his legacy was becoming one of ridicule for how sordid his rule truly was. “You don’t think I’d have you beheaded for being honest with me, right?”, he tried to make sure, looking up from the examination of his own bandaged wounds to give Lucien a questioning gaze, maybe even too much of one. Right now, all that he wanted was to find peace, be it by himself or through someone, though his body and mind were not working in tandem as they usually should. “Have you now? That sounds like planning something like this is much more up your alley than it is mine. No harm in delegating it to you if you enjoy it either, but I don’t want to overburden you with what should be my duty in the first place. If anything’s too much, just come to me, alright? Also, sounds like your sister would’ve liked to help out with the coronation as well.” Classic Dayan, offering a helping hand when he had none to comfort himself with, just to feel something, feel better about himself, or perhaps, because he genuinely cared, even if he wouldn’t admit that to Lucien’s face right now. Perhaps he also just felt like that was what he should be saying, so he did. “No need for a formal one … or to be uptight about it. It’s one day, and the colors of some drapes or napkins or linen are the least of my worries.” With that, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to dig into his own wound or if he should save that for later. Regardless, he was about to button it back up, knowing that getting it dirty out here wouldn’t help his case, only for Lucien to make his blood run cold like the wuss he was right now. “No. I loathe being touched.”

"Just leave my face out of it. I can't attend the coronation with a black eye.", Lucien joked. Dayan needn't worry, even if he hurt Lucien, he wouldn't mind it. He wouldn't even feel it most likely, it was just a hassle acting like he did. He'd offer Dayan to punch him if it helped, but it was too out of character for him, so he refrained from it. "Well maybe eventually having one or two of them over again will be easier and you can talk to someone who actually knows you." Lucien wasn't that, but for now he was happy that he had free reign. Would he have to tussle over Dayans attention with anyone else? Maybe, but he was the one delivering results anyway and he had a few things in mind to get into Dayans good graces. He long abandoned the idea of having a grand dinner after the coronation, but he kept the farce up, having everything prepared and when Dayan got cold feet, he'd tell him last second they'll just cancle it then. It would certainly give him some relief, delivered by Lucien of course. "Oh really? Huh... well, my father is pretty demanding let's say. My mother died when I and my sister were born - I am the older one by the way - and my father isn't exactly the most loving person. I think your family is much different. Well, but we all got all we wished for anyway, it's just that he demands excellence from me and my brother. Ares was starting to train with the sword since he could walk, he developed a taste for it anyway, so he still does it. He gets weapons from the south aaall the time to try them out and he has teachers from all over the world showing him different techniques as well. I'm different, but my father always wanted me to read a lot. I had plenty a teacher and plenty tests my father would conduct himself. History, politics, languages, mathematics, all that. I fluently speak the southerners language by the way, my Thrian is probably a bit rusty. Ares is to rule one day, but I am very much expected to keep the books in check." Lucien chuckled. "I think my brother would be helpless without me. Hm, well, that's been my childhood. Lots of books in between basking in the sun and playing with my sister. She's always bored, my father doesn't demand much from her to be honest." Did Dayan want to know more? There was nothing much else Lucien could think of right now. "Hah, that's not what I meant. I know your instinct is to distrust me and my family specifically."

"No of course not, I am joking silly.", Lucien replied with another smile. Dayan honestly seemed worried to be presumed as a tyrant already. "Don't worry, I won't overwork myself. In fact I have most of it planned out in my head already anyway, it's just a matter of overseeing everyones work and wrangling you. There are some things you won't get around. A crude practice run and a speech and all that, but we still have plenty time. If you want to work on it, try and get a speech ready, I can help, some bullet points are enough for starters, I can also give some suggestions if you need them. Again, plenty time still though, so don't stress yourself over it." They'd have to address certain topics, but if Dayan had some of his own, of course they could write them in. Lucien had a good idea of a speech already as well, but it was rude to take that one out of Dayans control. "Hah, my sister is loud and touchy, I don't know if you wanted her around.", Lucien let out with a laugh. "And if she could land you as her husband, she'd make my father very happy, so she'd probably be all over you." Like most young Ladies around the realm probably. "As you wish, at dinner then.", Lucien simply decided for them both. Lucien still eyed Dayan and his wound. "Well looking is not touching. I'm not a doctor, but I can take a look if you want."

“Absolutely not! I’m not going to hurt you, that just wouldn’t be right.”, Dayan immediately protested the slightest notion tinged into that absurd of a direction. What was wrong with Lucien seemed to turn more into a question of what wasn’t wrong with him, or where he picked up on these things - was this another joke Dayan didn’t get? “You don’t mean that, right?”, he wanted to make sure, if not for Lucien, then himself. This guy proved to be ridiculous, all the way, and Dayan had to hand it to him in the end; he didn’t mind entertaining him and his thoughts, or words, but they unnerved him. “Sometime eventually, no need to worry about that. I’ll take care of it.” Why, he’d always take care of things like that, like they were his duty and his alone, something that nobody could wrest from him because he just knew his way around these things while others didn’t. Still, it wasn’t that, now seemed to be hardly the time to explain any of it, though, not when Lucien told him something about himself, prompting Dayan to nod along to prove he was attentive enough and actually interested. Frankly, he was, yet didn’t find anything useful in that story that would explain why Lucien had that thousand yard stare that bore right into and then through him, or why he suddenly thought physical abuse - save for his face - was okay. “That sounds different, still expansive, but like it came with many expectations. Say, didn’t you ever want to pick something up that you liked? Like, maybe you saw someone else doing something you’d want to give a whirl …” A life spent like that, at his fathers whims, didn’t sound too bad for Dayan because both his fathers weren’t Aramis, but Lucien? He sounded like he could use some freedom in his decisions. “If you want to get rid of the rust on your thrian, you do know I’m very much fluent in it, right?” That was an offer that hardly anyone ever refused, but Dayan wasn’t necessarily the best of language teachers, which might be a downgrade to his personality. “Oh come on. I am distrustful, but not just of you - in fact, if it makes you feel better, I don’t trust anyone right now.”

There was nothing that ward hardcoded into his brain that told him to specifically hate Olettians, either - you either liked someone or you didn’t, and while Lucien was on thin ice, Dayan still respected him enough to not let him take the steep fall just yet. “Good, you had me worried for a second.” One second too long, too painful, too agonizing. Dayan wasn’t sound of mind right now, one kernel enough to turn his entire world upside down and shift the weight of it so uncomfortably, it sent him tumbling. “I won’t, just slow down a little, will you? It’s like you can think of anything at a moments notice, which is admirable, but I don’t think I can follow along that fast when my mind’s a bit preoccupied with pain.” Not the enjoyable kind one would drink and learn from after a victory, but the one that stung for days and weeks after it had healed, making him tremble and learn that he, too, was neither immortal nor infallible. Right. Who would ever have thought that Dayan was invincible and incapable of failure? Maybe his fathers, when the world still had this weird rosy sheen about it a few long months ago, and death wasn’t incessantly knocking at their doorstep. “If she’s touchy I think that meeting can … wait. Nothing against her.” What Lucien mumbled about next, though, it knocked the wind out of his sails, made Dayan choke on his own spit from the absurdity of the scenario. “I think if that happened, I’d likely try to keep my distance. She can pursue me all she wants, I just don’t think I’d be up for being swayed by anyone, be it her or someone from anywhere else on this continent.” Besides, he had no interest in becoming Ares brother or kicking his parents legacy with such ferocity he even married the “enemies” daughter. “Fine by me.”, he agreed. Then came the hard part, and Dayan stopped trying to button the shirt. “I- okay. No touching unless absolutely necessary, tho. Anyway, do you need me to undress the wound? How far? All of it?”

"I am joking, relax.", Lucien grinned. "I don't think you'd hurt me." Dayan was so on edge, every joke just went straight over his head. With no one else around it seemed that Lucien filled the shoes of a friend, or at least the closest it got. He couldn't complain about it. He listened intently to Luciens story, as if he tried to figure something out. Usually he was around highly superficial people, Dayan maybe saw through Luciens facade, at least a little bit and he seemed disappointed by his story. "Hm? Oh well as I said decorating our mansion or whatever venue we picked for a event, that's what I did on my own. My sister initially dragged me into it, but I still have fun with it. I also like reading and learning other languages seems to be something I am good at too. I rarely get to speak the Southern Tongue, much like Thrian, but I have a few people in the south a write letters to to keep the knowledge fresh. I'm not interested in fighting or art, like painting or music." He had plenty of interests but probably none that interested Dayan. Medicine, poisons, mechanics, but nothing like playing the violin or anything like that. "Yeah I know, but it's not that important.", he smiled. "Mhm a good idea right now to be honest." Being mistrusting was smart and maybe it played into Luciens cards as well.

Lucien let out a short laugh again. "Alright alright, sorry. When we go back I will write you a list of tasks and you can work on them whenever.", he suggested. It would be easier to follow than whatever was going on in Luciens brain. "I bet you can't hide from all the young ladies having set their eye on the new king. Well as prince you probably were used to it too though, right? Even I have some admires simply for being my fathers son." Not the best option, he wasn't Ares, but for many it was still an upgrade if they'd marry him. His sister usually got rid of them though. Lucien sat up straighter and positioned himself in front of Dayan. "I won't touch it, I just want to see the edges, just pull it up a little.", he told Dayan and as he did, Lucien took a closer look, without touching, as promised. "It's red for sure. I assume it feels hot, maybe a bit hard on the edges? It might be slightly infected, but not bad enough yet to need to carve the rotten flesh out. I think with some salve and keeping it dry, you can get it under control before it gets worse. Of course an actual doctors opinion wouldn't hurt. There are some plants with cooling properties and some that could help with the pain as well, though at least the pain keeps you from moving too much. I can discuss with your doctors and have something prepared once we're back if you want. Any other symptoms? If you run a fever, you definitely should have a doctor take a look, but you don't look like you have one."

"You got me there, I'll admit.", Dayan sighed, relieved. What a weird thing to just blurt out without thinking about the consequences or anything else, really. Was Lucien fine? Who knew, it was neither his place to pry, nor was it within his virtues to do it right now. "I'm glad, because I won't." That was the general assumption. Right, he could live without the rest of the world thinking he was more than willing to hurt someone not much smaller, but more petite than him, like he was some sort of monster that liked picking on those that could not defend themselves from him. What a disgusting way to think that had to be, and how unappealing the thought of hurting Lucien was, or anyone, for that matter. "It's more the theoretical aspects of life, the less violent ones in practice, then? Not that there is anything wrong with that, I'm just surprised, given the way your brother is. Then again, you do have a twin, it only would follow that you two are more similar to one another and closer." Twins were, well - they were curious to him. Dayan never had been one, Richard and him were simply the closest thing to that in the palace, after they had gotten attached to one another as kids, so deeply that the pain of losing him was embedded in the drenches of his bleeding, screaming soul that wasn't allowed free reign over his body, not when his mind could still foist other things upon it. "I guess not, but you know where to find me if you'd like to." Right, he could use the practice himself - he had had a hanful of people that he frequently talked in the language of his ancestors with, yet all of them had turned into fine dust, into sand that was slowly but surely seeping from inbetween the cracks of his fingers. "Is it, really?" To him, it was more of a hassle than anything.

Seeing the world only painted in black and white brought about challenges, as one crude joke followed another, as one droplet was added to an already overflowing barrel. Dayan knew he was seeing things in a narrowminded view, was being too controlling for his own good, and much more hands-on than was likely necessary. "No need to apologize. And ... that'd be good, though, if we do away with the pain, I'm content just listening to you." He would be able to remember it then, his mind not his deadliest weapon, yet good for something, even if it meant to actually force himself to feign interest in the few things of life he genuinely disliked. "We can make a bet out of it alright, I never evaded them before, not that they came to me in droves anyway. I had plenty of admirers, still, but I am hardly in the mood for any of that." They'd either try to go after him now, if their goal was the crown like it had been before when they flocked to Richard, or they'd ignore him entirely, on account of thinking that this wasn't worth their while anymore, came with too many thethers and entrapped them in too many layers of intrigues, even if nothing was really going on behind the scenes - palace life had been awkwardly peaceful most of his life. "Alright." Dayan did as Lucien told him, a hint of agony on his expression as he gave the wound too close of a grasp, the flesh protesting underneath. "Something like that. It feels like it's got its own heartbeat at times, which I know isn't good, either. I hoped it'd die down on its own." What a foolish thing to be so certain of. "Yuck, I'd rather not carve out anything. I ... don't think there's other symptoms yet, and I'd prefer there not to be. I guess a visit to the doctor might not be so ill of an idea." He didn't like the idea one bit, it was apparent by the face he made when he buttoned his shirt back up and just lay there for a while. "This thing is putting me out of commission longer than it ought to, which sucks, too. But what hasn't sucked the past few weeks? I apologize for complaining, but it's somehow the easiest thing."