hellbound. (earinor & akira)

The red hair was, in fact, something different. Fhaergus' bloodline was full of blondes, all of his siblings had been blonde, one of his father had been blonde and his wolf side was full of close to pitch-black hair and dark eyes, with the only exception being his grandfather on that side, who - for one reason or the other - had the same, odd and hard to remember amber eyes that his mother had. Dayan, on the other hand, was a mixture of many things as it seemed, despite knowing who his father was and having a lick of an idea who his mother could be - not that he ever really met her, or at least he couldn't remember her. His eyes were green, a light color at that and his hair was some sort of greyish-black that made him look like an old man rather than a wolf or a teenager, that he was. Lucien was different, his hair was bright red, almost in contrast to his seemingly secretive nature and yet, he stopped glancing at it - it only served to distract him and his face was the same old smile and grin that it had been before, there was no chance in hell he'd read something off of his lips or out of the tone of his voice, but he could keep listening, it would at least serve as a good distraction. "Maybe you're right, but I really don't want to be an asshole like most of them, or at least have my people consider me one." Fuck, this was going to be a hard task, especially with the occassional moodswings and the fact that he already installed fear in some of his servants because he couldn't help himself and had lashed out at them for no apparent reason, other than they came too close, too soon, too fast. "Contrary to, unfortunately, still popular belief, wolves don't know magic and I can't sell my soul to the devil, either, so no, I would need someone or multiple people to be my eyes and ears."

Seemingly, even a blind or a deaf king could rule, but that meant that he had to have more eyes and ears than he bargained for and that meant, that there would be expenses and more risks - and Dayan definitely wanted to keep his eyes and hearing where they were. "No need to apologize", he said, shaking his head. "It's still apparent, isn't it? I mean, it is healing, which is all nice and well, but it does hurt, yes." A wound of that size, or rather depth, did take time and he was surprised that he hadn't bled out somehow, that he was alive and not dead, because he very much felt like the latter at most times. "I agree. And also, judging by the fact that it had been in there for god knows how long, we also can't rule out that it's either still good - but I think it is - or if whoever owned this before didn't lace it with something." Dayan wasn't usually that suspicious, but the king before his father was a fucking maniac, or at least so he had heard and read, which also meant that there was nothing to trust. "Yes, but I mostly competed for fun. Hm, come to think of it, your brother is really skilled." He meant Ares, right? The prince wasn't entirely sure, but he had at least seen that redhead fight and win his fair share of tournaments, which also meant that he was good at what he was doing, wasn't he? "That could be the case. I was free to do what I wanted, most of the time - sure, I did receive basic and in-depth lessons on diverging topics, but I'd say that I was raised the furthest thing from strict." They all turned out fine and they knew boundaries, but the one benefit it had was that none of them feared anything, except disappointing their fathers, but not for the punishment and rather because of the disappointed looks they'd make. "Is there even anything you haven't read, then?" More importantly, did Lucien only know one sole language? Judging by who his father was, he probably did.

Distracting himself was probably the best decisions he's ever had and if something hurt, work was always a good option, whatever mental or physical, both worked for him, at least he wanted to think that it did and maybe, he wasn't so wrong. In the end, as truth be told, there was no need to think too much about all of that. "I meant before that, if you rummage through a bunch of history books, you'll find what you're looking for. But that aside, how can a king that starts a senseless war be a good one, especially if he just does because that one person, that had no right to his title, spews a bit of bullshit about how some wolves - that never were near his home - killed his wife and the first person to jump onto that train of thought is a barely twenty-something-year-old idiot?" Of couse he was talking about Darragh and Caelan, they both were idiots and Dayan knew as much, but everyone in his family seemed to be. Sure, he never dug deep and Caelan as well as Ronan had been dead for a while, but from all those things he got to hear, wasn't it stupid to spend twenty years killing some wolves because they might have killed someone that turned out to be perfectly fine and alive? "Excuse my language, I'm an idiot myself", he eventually sighed and then listened to the rest of what Lucien had to say. "And would not land me on the throne, they'd burn me like they'd burn anyone they presume to be a witch." Then, he shook his head. "Mh, my father always trusted people and well, the one person that kept him safe from all harm was also the person that he adopted me from, so it only serves as a reminder that he had too much faith in a single person."

Nayantai was worn, rough at the edges and he barely ever seemed to have a good night, he knew as much. Rain didn't want to strain him, Dayan knew that too, but the stubborn old man had insisted that he was still fit for the job and fit he was, despite being considered some sort of diplomat, ambassador or whatever it was, in the end, there probably were plenty of stories of Nayantai keeping his naive husband alive and well and breaking a few more bones after the war - was that why he always was so jumpy to begin with? "That's good to hear and don't worry, I've endured the worst and forcing more painkillers down my throat would probably be akin to just downing that bottle right there, regardless of what I do, it won't make me feel better in the long run." Only time could tell and with that, there was a knock at the door and eventually, they were brought some more tea - their old plates and cups were whisked away - and the maid excused herself shortly thereafter, after Dayan thanked her for it. "I didn't mean with poison, or to put it more delibaretly, not the killing kind. We don't know what type of person he exactly was, but who knows, maybe he did enjoy his alcohol with some other things and the bottle didn't look like it was new before you opened it, but it's pretty much still full." Or the wolf was just a tad bit too suspicious for his own good, especially when he avoided the cup of tea like hell once more, not even glancing at it, or attempting to take it and blow on it. "Sounds like a born fighter, if you ask me. As for you, I'm guessing you rather enjoy psychological warfare than physical?" That didn't mean anything except that Dayan didn't know much about the words that he was using, or that he deliberately was using the wrong ones to push some buttons, but it most likely wasn't the latter, or was it? "That's good to hear", and it was much appreciated, too. "And that's true, but I'd say that my southern language skills do kind of lack, especially since Myriad isn't too close to them and an official translator always did their job well ... besides, like I said, I was never meant to be king. But I'm surprised you went through the hassle and learned some thrian."

"In theory it does, but a king swept by decisions like those might adhere to his people, but not to what he should consider the right thing to do. However, it happened and in the end, who knows, it changed a bunch of things, for both us and the thrians, but it doesn't excuse anything that happened." That meant that he had an even bigger burden to bear - he couldn't just ruin the legacy he was left with, which meant he couldn't run off, couldn't allow himself to die and leave Adrestia to fall back into turmoil, but he also couldn't expect himself to bear everything on his own and to blame Nayantais - and his - people for what had transpired. Flora and Atwick were dead, much like Rain and Richard and Nayantai were gone. What remained was him, the husk of the person he used to be and the seeds of doubt that were sprouting in that confused mind of his. Where would all of this lead? "Be as honest as you want, I'll let you know if something doesn't sit right with me." That was as good as a conversation with a future king could get, but all in all, Dayan was an openminded person, someone that couldn't be assed to think too much about too many things and yet, enough to assume a few and be in the right lane. "Darragh of Alster, by all accounts, was a maniac that didn't deserve the title he got. But some fancy and empty promises and a good foundation in fighting seemingly get you anywhere, as long as you kill the right people." Wasn't that how that bastard got his title anyway? Fool one old man, fool all of the nation, it seemed. "My father? What do you mean?", Dayan feigned ignorance, feigned that he didn't know - and who would blame him? He was a bleeding, dying mess that someone scooped off of the floor, but the memories were rather vivid. "I don't fancy rumors, but you can't stop them from spreading like a wildfire. I doubt my father was behing all of that, otherwise he wouldn't have taken Richard with him, or rather, they'd have found his body by now. Considering the state I was in, he probably ruled me out surviving the attack and knowing him, he doesn't want to take any chances of Richard getting killed, so god knows where they are."

That, however, sparked an idea - his father hated Adrestia, one way or the other, so they had to have gone back home, right? What about deliberately asking his aunt, then? "I doubt some gnarly, healing fleshwounds would look good when put on display, but I'm sure that I play the 'I don't want to be king'-role quite well, because I really don't want to." "You're right about that, I'll let you know. Thank you, Lucien." This was much appreciated, even though he was digging his own grave right about now, trusting a stranger a bit too much was nothing he should be doing, yet he did and what for? Because he liked to think that maybe, just maybe, his father was right and not everyone in this world had bad intentions, but that wasn't always true, as sad as it sounded. Then, however, he watched what the redhead was doing and honestly? He was even less inclined to drink whatever was in there. "So he didn't even have good taste, what a shame. If you'd prefer wine over tea, I guess I could get someone to get you a glass? Or a bottle?" Dayan wasn't up to drink himself, not when it was still as early, but maybe Lucien was different and after his short journey to get all the way here, maybe he did need it - and who was the soon-to-be king to deprive him of it? "Well, do you? But, it's mainly bad wording on my part, but actually, you do seem like the type to enjoy a plethora of things, and I'm almost convinced that warfare is one of them, especially since you yourself claim that you are in no physical position to beat me or your brother. You'd make do with the things you can do, right?" What happened if two monsters of a different kind were locked in a single room and given time to talk and share ideas? Dayan had no idea, but he'd figure it out, if he had to he would and even if he didn't have to, he'd do it regardless. And why? Because Lucien was already here, but that didn't make him a monster just yet. "No need to, you don't owe me an explanation for anything, not of yourself or of your past, but rest assured that I don't hold anything against you - you aren't your grandfather, you are you and just because there's a bad apple or a batch of bad apples doesn't mean that everyone is the same."

Answering Luciens questions felt like the were playing some sort of game, almost like a game of tag and both of them were it, but they still were trying to chase the other one down, too. What was this going to be? Dayan knew that Richard had looked up to him, all things considered, and that he was there to protect his little brother when needed, or chime in and give someone a piece of mind when the blonde was too shy or worked up to do it, but they both could bite and in the end, Dayan wasn't the one that spend a lot of time thinking about many things - his body did most of the work, not so much his brain, so this wasn't his field of expertise, though, he could fool the redhead just a little longer, even if his attempts were shit. "Honestly? We'd be fucked because that'd have meant he had a birthright to the throne and if he turned out anything like that father of his, trying to establish peace would've been for naught." Wolf or not, even sheeps knew that their former king, the one before Rain, was a complete nutcase and even just having him sit where he sat was like they all were playing with fire, involuntarily or not, it didn't matter much. "Who knows, we'll figure that out soon enough, but I don't see why not", he told Lucien, but there still was expression lacking on his face, it still didn't sound too sincere, nothing that came out of his mouth did, not anymore and any chance of fooling somebody had turned into a speck of dust in the blink of an eye, way before all of this. How apparent was it that he was hurting? "Why would you assume that? Like I said, it's nothing more than a rumor and even if it were the case, there is barely any evidence to back it up to begin with - I'm not going to find solace in some ill-meant rumors, especially not when they are about my father and are only proof of how much of a rift there is between thrians and adrestians." Then, what was he? An ugly mix of being born one, but being raised the other - was this what Richard had to deal with when he question his own heritage? Sometimes, it really felt as if all of them were just trophies to be paraded around, achievements from winning the war and it was painful, despite knowing that they were loved, but in the end, they were just items and prizes, right? "It's fine, I'll have to deal with it eventually if I want to rid myself of emotional baggage."

There it was again, the one person he thought had died, the one person that had enough emotional baggage that he could safely offload, but Dayan wasn't him anymore. "Let them talk, I can't take their right to free speech from them, but I might as well see to it that it doesn't get into a fellow nobles head." Everyone was entitled to their own opinions, but Dayan didn't want the public to judge as long as he himself had no real clue of what happened, of what transpired back then and the only thing he could remember war a blank expression that he'd never seen before. "She's my aunt and no, she hasn't. But I don't blame her, the news were withheld for a good week and until they reach were she is, it will be a good few more weeks, at least I assume so. Formally informing her isn't our duty and if my father does pass through Thria, she will catch wind of it." Which meant, he most likely didn't go anywhere near his home, didn't he? If he had, Khojin would have demanded immediate contact with him and they'd have all of this sorted out in no time. "So, what you are saying is that it's fine to not force myself to be a functioning person for once in a while?" That was the gist of what Lucien was explaining, it did amuse him somehow, yet, he only slightly shifted in position, resting his elbow on his chair and holding his heavy head up with the hand he prodded it on, before he looked over the table, all the way to the redhead. "Some good wine during dinner it is, then. No objections on my part." It would help him sleep for at least a few hours, depening on how much he consumed, but he wasn't a lightweight either, something that he shared with both his father and his grandfather, but that probably was because thrians were really just ... unbelievable sometimes, weren't they? "That's a shame, and here I thought you did care for a good game. Well, I can't blame you, after all, I was the oldest of four and the only one that didn't have many lessons, so eventually, when you have nothing to mess with, you still grow lonely despite being surrounded by people." That was a lie on his part, though, he never was lonely and he never felt left out - he actually quite enjoyed the freedom he was granted, even though sometimes, it felt a bit too much. "That's fine, no need to worry. I'm done here, though, anything else you need me to tackle? Please don't tell me you have another stack of papers hidden among your luggage."

Dayan had walked out on Lucien because he couldn't fucking hear it any longer, he was done and tired and dead and hurt, he wanted nothing more than the embrace of his own room, nothing more than those memories that seemed to be locked up inside and if he spent the rest of today daydreaming it all away, maybe he'd wake up in a more desirable reality, on where his father wasn't a brainless maniac that had it out for him and his siblings, yet, none of that made sense. Lucien didn't seem like one for baseless rumors, yet Dayan knew that he couldn't judge a book by his cover, knew that his fathers would have never associated themselves anything-Olette, but he did, he liked doing it, knowing he could get fucked over by some rumor mongers, but the thing was, up until now, nobody gave a damn about him or who he was supposed to be, nobody cared enough to think twice about Dayan of Fhaergus, about how he'd never be more than some sort of decoy and that, too, pissed him off. He never wanted the crown, or Myriad, or even the title, or that frigid piece of land that called itself Fhaergus, the place that felt like a prison to both of his fathers for some time, yet, Nayantai never felt welcome here, either, but Dayan wasn't stupid enough to ask, not once during the entirety of his childhood had he tried to pry those informations out of someone.

How long until he came to the conclusion that something wasn't right? Who knew, he didn't, he never would and instead, he did what he had wanted to do, he annoyed people and found that it was hard to give them a piece of his mind when he was barely asleep, when he felt as if death was looming over his head, crawling out of his throat, something like that, something that just felt oddly hurtful. In the end, he arranged and delegated all there was to do, he asked some servants for directions, for help, for input, but he did ignore the redhead that he promised a dinner, which meant that he - eventually - showed up at his room, some odd hours later, hopefully not too late. Dayan was tired, one could see that by just looking into his face, but he also was trying to make all of this work out, for both himself and his guest, for his absent and deceased family members and he'd find a way to rid himself of any pain that might be there, that might be occupying him, telling him that being awake wasn't the best and that a better version of his life was waiting for him in some sort of dreamland, in an abyss that only he could and would fall into. "Lucien? Are you there?", he inquired eventually. "I'm here to drag you out for dinner." Dragging him out was the wrong way of saying this, though, he was sure the redhead understood the gist of it.

"I mean, I guess? It just feels a bit rude to not come and get you yourself if my servants can't even bring you to my room." Dayan would have a word with them, no doubt about it, but that was all he could do and the sad truth was that, as predictable as something was, would be or tended to be, he could at least try and figure it out. Lucien, however, didn't seem to be a fan of it and at least he was good at guessing why. It sounded stupid to try and be someone he wasn't, as well as how it sounded odd for him to just try and figure things out on his own when he had capable and willingly helping hands like that of the redhead. "That's a secret. Or alas, I haven't ordered anything specific, if I can be frank. But I'm glad you are hungry." Whenever he felt like eating something, there would be something on that plate of his and as stupid as it sounded, he liked to believe that he didn't have refined taste, just because he ate whatever he was offered, and yet, he still was the one that couldn't quite tell if he was hungry or not, if he just tried to make himself sound hungry or if it all was a rouse, made up by himself and prolonged by the fact, that Lucien was here now and that no matter what, Dayan had to eat and sleep like a normal human being, he wasn't undead, he had lived to see another day and he regretted it, always, all the time.

"I would be lying if I didn't say that I wouldn't need it", he clarified. There was a lot to learn and eventually, he'd crumble under the stress, under the sudden expectations and he'd rather do that before he became king, before his imperfect shell shouldn't be able to crack any longer, but no need to fret over it, he'd eventually find a way. "Maybe it will, we'll see." Having a panic attack sounded like it fit right in there, too, and despite knowing that he never had any of these before, that this wasn't who he was, death and pain and being unable to forget, unable to figure it out on his own made him antsy, among other things. "If you don't mind me asking, what kind of books? Or is that too personal?" Dayan never had been big on reading, but considering that a heavy crown would soon be on his own head and the freedom to go anywhere he wanted would be gone with the snap of two fingers, he might as well pick up something to keep him sane and entertained, at least he thought so, even when he sat there, at this oversized table, in some corner of it, alongside the redhead that just assumed one of those spaces as his own. "I did, and I don't want to go back on that promise", he reassured Lucien, before calling one of the servants over. "That sounds actually like a good idea ...", Dayan commented, before instructing the servant to bring them some wine, as well as inquire about their food. It didn't take long until they were served with two bottled of wine, two glasses and a plethora of food ... it wasn't too much for two people, but it definitely factored in someone with Richards appetite. Fuck. One of the servants poured both of them a glass, then excused themselves and went away - were they always this secretive?

This was nice, wasn't it? Lucien somehow, despite being nothing more than an intruder in his own home, felt like someone that seemed to be theoretically hellbent on having him loosen up, on helping him not fall prey to the madness that was creeping in towards him from all sides, but all things considered, Dayan knew that no matter what, he couldn't just rely on the same guy, over and over again, especially if he didn't know him and definitely not if all of this was just a temporary act of kindness, from a country that both of his parents weren't exactly willing to trust. "We should be", Dayan summarized, though, there wasn't much to be even about in the first place - Lucien was right, though, they both had gone after the other for once and despite him knowing that none of these were proper manners, he was somewhat surprised, now that he knew that Lucien wasn't going to chastise him for something like that, at least no every time their gazes met and they wondered how all of this worked so well in tandem. "You aren't? That's good to hear. Me neither, albeit ... is there anything you can't stand at all? Even if you aren't picky, there has to be something that you at least dislike", the wolf inquired, knowing that he himself wasn't one for bell peppers or something like raisins, yet he ate them, just because and in the end, his father had also always eaten what anyone served them, though ... he couldn't taste anything, so he purely judged by texture.

"Sounds like I actually have to come up with some good questions, then. I don't want to come off as stupid as I am." Dayan of Fhaergus was, at best, someone that had a heart of gold but didn't think much about anything. Sometimes, he wanted to say he came after his father, but then again, he'd never seen Nayantai doing anything completely brainless like he did and any questions about his fathers youth were ... muddled and not really explanatory, which was why he liked to believe that he actually came after his grandfather, Caelan - that sounded nice, didn't it? "If you'd like to. I reckon, you don't have much else to do, except lend me a hand, so why wouldn't I allow you", he mused, but he wasn't sure what the redhead would gain from that. Right now, he was pretty boring, like a piece of paper without much of a personality but an outrageous amount of confusion and anger, all of which could very much be a weapon turned against him in an instant. "Ah, yes, I can't imagine that ancestry is all that exciting", the wolf mulled, now that he sat at this vast and empty table, he wondered what would change if at least Richard was here, but he couldn't even fathom that, all in all he just wondered what it meant if something like that changed so suddenly - so much, in fact, he eventually took his glass of wine, whisked the liquid around and then took quite the sip from it. "I have to admit, there's better", he informed Lucien, but that was all, he sat the glass aside and it didn't take long for their food to arrive, either ... that was a bit much for two people, wasn't it?