Chapter Text
De Sardet was a strange sort, to be sure. Vasco had never met a noble half so polite without them managing to reveal their hand as to their self-interest. De Sardet was either exceedingly good at concealing it, or else genuinely didn’t seem to have an agenda at all when it came to being a decent person to the ‘lower classes’. Maybe Vasco’s expectations of nobles were just low enough to be easily exceeded. Still, the young Legate was… surprising.
And of course, he was prettier than he’d any right to be. Not that Vasco was particularly easily distracted by a handsome face… or a taut frame and lithe grace and frankly obscenely fine arse-
Alright, so the Legate was attractive, that much was true. But for three months at sea Vasco could comfortably ignore that. Had they met during shore leave in some dingy tavern then Vasco might have indulged to try his luck. Might have bought the pretty young man a drink and taken him to bed and let him leave quietly come daybreak, disappearing back into his velvet-trimmed existence like so many adventurous upper class fools before him. But Captain Vasco was a professional, as far as that went for Nauts- and that meant he may be quietly disdainful to noble poncery but he was loyal to his guild, he was effective and dutiful when it came to any assignment, and he respected the job. So when that meant transporting Princes and their entourage and copious belongings to new lands he could easily do so while ignoring how damned fuckable said Prince’s cousin’s pretty mouth looked.
Some time around month two Vasco decided he hadn’t had a decent lay in too long and resolved to deal with that vague itch before he left port again at New Serene, though he hardly devoted much conviction to the thought. He wasn’t some distasteful block of sexual aggression who desperately needed to get his end away before sailing off for the next port. He’d met Nauts like that, of course. Even had one or two ply him with cheap drinks and coax him back to their sad bunk on the docks. He’d not been nearly so young or desperate in a long time, nor would they dare pull such moves on a ranking crewman, let alone a respected captain.
Of course all that was quite moot when Cabral ordered him ashore… there to remain for the foreseeable future it seemed. As surprisingly tolerable for a noble De Sardet was, it hardly lessened the sting of being condemned to dry land with no real justification. Challenging the admiral would only make matters worse. And Vasco reminded himself regularly that De Sardet was far from responsible and did not deserve his misdirected ire. So the Naut captain reluctantly followed the Congregation Legate across the island to cosy up to the other Governors of the colonist nations in the hopes of leads on curing the Malichor.
De Sardet only continued to soar over Vasco’s low expectations of such blue blood. Surprisingly soon, the Naut caught himself almost forgetting the Legate’s nobility when they talked softly having taken watch at their latest wilderness camp, or following his lithe form through city streets or forest paths… never entirely though.
One night, an evening’s travel outside of San Matheus, having made camp a little way from the road when night fell, De Sardet offered to take the first watch. Vasco joined him, thinking Siora in more need of rest than he after the trial of keeping her composure in a city of zealots keen to call her a ‘heretical savage’. They sat for a time in the calm un-silence of rustling trees and occasional noises of nocturnal wildlife. De Sardet tried to pull his coat closer about him without being obvious about it, but Vasco was only a foot or so away and his eyes were sharp enough to catch the other man’s shiver.
“Cold, your excellency?” He asked, an edge of amusement colouring his voice as he noticed De Sardet’s expression fall at being caught so.
“A little, but I’m sure I’ll -”
Before De Sardet could finish the thought, Vasco was handing him the flask he had pulled from his inner coat pocket. De Sardet took it, confused. Vasco chuckled as the Legate opened it and sniffed suspiciously at the contents.
“Spiced rum,” Vasco plucked the flask from De Sardet’s hand and took a hearty swig before holding it back out again. “Few swigs throughout the night will keep the frost from your bones during a watch.”
De Sardet took the flask and swallowed a small mouthful. The rum burned on the way down but it carried a pleasant taste of cloves, cinnamon and other sweetnesses and warmed him, even as he grimaced a little at the strength. Vasco saw that, too, and did not hide his smirk.
“Thank you, Captain,” De Sardet’s voice came out a little hoarser than he’d have liked as he handed back the flask.
Vasco kicked back another swig before securing the lid and returning the flask to his pocket with a chuckle, “well, if it can get one through high winds at sea it should be more than enough for these woods. Assuming your skin’s not too thin, Excellency?”
Vasco knew he was taking liberties with the teasing barbs, but he’d seen enough to know De Sardet wouldn’t challenge it. He was maybe even a little curious how far he could push his luck with De Sardet’s noble sensibilities… for his part, the Legate smiled in response, his eyes catching the glow of the firelight.
“No need for such formality, Captain,” De Sardet said warmly. “‘De Sardet’ is more than adequate… just Alexis, even, to friends.”
Vasco was caught off guard by the sincere tone for a moment. He replied playfully, however,
“And it’s ‘Vasco’ to mine. I assume your memory’s not so spotty to have lost my name in the months since we met?”
De Sardet stumbled on the jibe. Was that a flush? Vasco couldn’t be sure, but the momentary flustering of the young noble was altogether too charming.
“No, of course.” He replied quickly. “Vasco. Of course-”
“We’re settled and acquainted then, aren’t we Alexis?”
The light of the campfire was just dim enough that the flush De Sardet felt colour his cheeks at the sound of his given name in that warm, amused, lilting baritone stayed as ambiguous as the one a moment before. Alexis thanked the stars. The handsome Naut already had his frayed nerves sparking up unbidden, he didn’t need further chance to embarrass himself.
“Why take a thankless watch so quickly?” Vasco asked, breaking off De Sardet’s musing. “Doesn’t your position entitle you to avoid such menial tasks?”
“Siora deserves a decent rest. Gods know she’s not had such while in the city and I’m responsible for dragging her along there at all.” Alexis replied.
“That goes for one. There are three more of us underlings here, Alexis.” Vasco’s tone was teasing but there was a slight bite to the implied authority, even if it was clothed in humour and velvet.
“Well, for one thing, Kurt would offer if given half the chance despite being dead on his feet from taking the brunt of those opportunistic highwaymen beyond the last outpost. And Petrus is old enough to be my father which earns him an earlier bed I think.” Alexis smiled to himself. “Besides which, you’re none of you servants or hirelings and from where I sit I should pull my weight.”
“Perhaps not all of us, but what else are myself and Kurt?” Vasco prodded.
“I stopped seeing Kurt as any kind of ‘hired-arm’ when I was still practically a child. He’d never tell a soul, but I doubt he’s seen myself and Constantin as merely a steady pay for even longer.” Alexis laughed lightly. “And as for you? The Congregation paid the Nauts for passage to the island and no more. If the Admiral chooses to make your stipend dependent on following me around from time to time that’s no business of mine.”
Alexis cursed himself for such a careless comment when he saw the flicker of bitterness cross Vasco’s eyes. He was a diplomat for shit’s sake! Half a mouthful of rum and a handsome face should not dull his skills so much. He’d like to say it hadn’t before… but the alcohol in Serene ballrooms was never so strong and more importantly no nobleman had anything on Captain Vasco’s sharp cheekbones, striking tattoos or eyes golden in the firelight-
“Hmm,” Vasco hummed with a smile that sent Alexis’ concern scattering. “Glad you’re not above boring yourself stiff on watch with the rest of us, Excellen- Alexis.”
Alexis had opened his mouth to correct the title but was silenced by the roll of his name off the Naut’s lips.
Gods, get some fucking sense back in your head De Sardet! He scolded himself.
“Though there’s much worse company I could ask for of a cold night,” Vasco shot a sidelong look at Alexis that carried little enough heat to be dismissible, setting the noble’s heart stuttering.
No. There was no way the Naut was doing anything more than mocking him, surely? Alexis refused to read between lines when the other party might not even have penned a word. He’d been painfully wrong and more painfully disappointed before.
“I- uhh…” De Sardet coughed awkwardly to clear the strange catch from his throat. “Well, you’ve my thanks for joining me, Capt- Vasco.”
Before Vasco could say anything much by way of response, Alexis stood to make a slow lap of the camp, lingering as he surveyed the forest around them, eyes carefully searching for threat that was not there. The snort of Kurt’s snore from across the camp set the Naut smirking to himself again.
He caught the soft concern on Alexis’ face as his watchful eyes scanned over the sleeping form of Siora by the fire. She’d insisted she was more than comfortable without the covering of renaigse canvas and left the tents to the rest of them. She seemed peaceful; deceptively comfortable bedroll settled on the turf and body curled against the very earth of her native home… more peaceful, indeed, than De Sardet had seen her since their meeting. Certainly since they had secured the return of her mother’s body to her clan. Alexis’ expression, unguarded here in the safety of night and the camp’s protection, was coloured now by pity and gentle worry.
Across the camp, Vasco watched the Legate’s face shift and eyes linger of the young woman by the fire. Shaking off the swell of sudden bitterness from his gut, the Naut took a none-too-modest swig from his flask. The rum warmed him in the place of the distasteful stab of unbidden jealousy that seized him a moment. He swallowed the spirit and pang altogether and tried to push the strange thoughts aside.
Get a-bloody-hold of yourself, idiot! He’s just some noble dainty. Vasco scolded himself as he pulled his gaze from the pretty young Legate and tried not to think about just how lovely he’d looked when caught off guard by Vasco’s only slightly flirtatious teasing.
If De Sardet was pretty when he blushed and flustered under Vasco’s taunting, when he put his hand on the Naut’s arm and looked up at him with a steady and sincere gaze, he was fucking beautiful. At least Vasco thought as much when Alexis did so and offered with all good-heartedness and no ulterior motive to trace his birth family for him.
Part of Vasco’s heart or gut or other difficult to define selfhood swelled at the thought of having a brother. The Nauts had always been his family but the thought of having what he’d never had… having Blood to call his own…
They paid a merchant caravan heading to Hikmet to carry their small party with them. Vasco was quieter than usual. His thoughts kept catching on the name d’Arcy. He turned it over and over as they bumped awkwardly over a poorly maintained stretch of road, worrying it like some old sailors would coins or luck tokens. By the time they reached the city the word had ceased to have any sense, in that way words become noise when repeated and repeated… yet he didn’t know what sense it was meant to have in the first place.
De Sardet smiled and assured him they would find Bastien before nightfall. First they set out to visit the Governor and run after whatever other busywork Alexis had in the city.
Bastien d’Arcy was everything that Vasco has thought of pampered nobility before…
He’d thought- before De Sardet showed him not everyone fit that mould. But again, he was only shown just how little Alexis De Sardet fit such low expectations.
Alexis paid off Bastien’s debts with little pause. Vasco wasn’t sure the fool deserved bailing out so easily. He let him slink away none the wiser he was anything but a stranger. All the energy and emotion that had built in him at the idea of a birth family, a brother? It faded in a moment for its fallacy.
De Sardet though… he was anything but false.
“Thank you, De Sardet.” Vasco said as they left the back alley the debt collectors had confronted Bastien in.
“Of course, my pleasure… but…” Alexis paused and let Kurt wander ahead a ways; Vasco had caught the easy way the Legate managed to protect even flimsy privacy and decorum. He was a fine diplomat, after all, even if his skills were used less self-servingly than any other Vasco had seen.
“Why did you not tell him who you were?” Alexis asked, no accusation in his tone, though some concern.
“But… I did tell him.” Vasco replied sincerely.
The concern seemed to fade, but De Sardet still looked a little confounded. He didn’t ask. Not for lack of interest, but through a desire not to intrude further into Vasco’s personal thoughts than was wished of him.
Even after I dragged him further into this than I’d any business to, he’d give me the right to my privacy? Vasco mused.
“I was stupid.” Vasco said, stopping in the archway besides some shop so that he might address De Sardet clearly. That much he owed him, at the very least. “I resented everyone… and you even more – for a life I didn’t get to live. You had everything I thought I was entitled to…”
“It’s hardly foolish to-” Alexis tried to respond but Vasco shook his head.
“No- it was…After seeing Bastien I…” Vasco’s expression grew firmer, his eyes caught the last of the evening sunlight in parches of gold, like burning torches over the grey sea. “I know I’m exactly who I want to be. A Naut. And a proud one at that.”
Alexis’ smile was more warming than any measure of rum on a cold night.
“I’m glad to hear it- No more regrets, then?”
“No more regrets,” Vasco let himself smile back, not nearly so open nor bright, but with humour and meaning. “And I certainly don’t regret not being called Leandre d’Arcy.”
He let his tongue roll deliberately over the syllables like a foul-tasting tincture. De Sardet chuckled.
“I can’t say I blame you: Alexis Rosario Celeste De Sardet is not the easiest thing for a child to have to learn to say fluently, let alone spell.” He said with bright humour as they set off towards the Legate’s residence.
“Rosario Celeste?” Vasco smirked, letting the names alone be the incredulous joke.
Alexis rolled his eyes. “I know… I’m told my mother was particularly sentimental at my birth. She’d lost several pregnancies before and never quiet seemed to have got over her shock and joy I came into the world healthy… I’m lucky I didn’t end up named after several more long dead relatives and every plant she thought in her state might grant fortune.”
He touched the dark mark across his jaw absently. Vasco had noticed how De Sardet tended to wear his cravat high around his neck and let his dark stubble grow in several days at a time despite the courtly trends that seemed to favour close shaven faces.
“You were born with that…uhh your mark, then?” Vasco found himself asking before he thought better of it.
De Sardet seemed to stumble on the question, like he hadn’t realised he was touching it. Still, he did not bristle so much as look melancholy…
“Yes… it was somewhat smaller in childhood but I’ve always had it. Ladies in the court used to say it was a mark of ill omens… when the Malichor grew and started claiming the better part of districts and cities when I was thirteen I couldn’t help but wonder if they were right.” Alexis said, oddly wistful. “When my mother got ill…”
He shook his head as if to banish the thought.
“Enough though- I think we’ve earned a drink, don’t you?” De Sardet forced a light tone. “I believe one of the Governor’s men mentioned a few fine bottles had been left in welcome of the Congregation’s representatives at my apartments… care to join me?”
“Of course, De Sardet,” Vasco replied.
“Honestly- What will it take for you to finally use my name…?” Alexis chided with a charming grin.
“I would be happy to, Alexis,” Vasco mocked a bow, removing his hat in an overly grand gesture.
Vasco tried to ignore how his chest swelled with unbidden feeling when Alexis laughed again and fell into step beside him. He wasn’t sure if the Legate took any note of his own hands or the way he let his hand brush once against Vasco’s arm as they walked.
That evening they drank together in the sitting room of De Sardet’s Hikmet residence, consuming more than a few glasses of the deceptively sweet brandy the Governor had gifted the Legate.
Vasco could hold his liquor better than De Sardet, that much he thought was fairly clear. He found himself swallowing back brandy and hoping that warmth in his chest would sink with it through his turbulent gut. Instead it swelled again and again as a more and more tipsy De Sardet became freer and clumsier: brushing Vasco’s hands as he passed him each drink; sitting further forward in his plush chair; touching Vasco’s arm as they laughed at some shared jibe; then abandoning his chair altogether to let his limbs sprawl with surprisingly poise across the comfortable rugs.
Alexis realised he was perhaps drunker than he should be when he caught himself leaning his head back against the empty space of sofa next to Vasco and smiling lopsidedly up at the Naut with a laugh. One of his arms was flush against Vasco’s leg. Their coats, gloves, hats and other such outerwear had been removed on arriving. A few drinks in boots and belts and other such uncomfortable things had followed. Alexis had only his linen shirt and trousers on, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the laces at his neck half undone. His bare forearm pressed against the length of Vasco’s calf, where his trousers were pinned into wrappings that usually held them neat and tightly into his boots.
They were talking about youth. About growing up at sea in the roughness and the trials of Naut upbringing; and then about the den of vipers of the Serene court. About learning how to adapt and to survive. The sea made one hardy. But nobility made one a very different type of guarded.
“I first turned down a marriage proposal at fourteen!” Alexis laughed openly at sharing such anecdotes. “Well… that one my uncle rejected point blank for her family’s failing prospects. But then my apparently sickliness and this mark were more and more the talk of the court and by the time I was sixteen he was desperate for any offer from a half-decent household.”
Alexis drained his glass and went to refill it swiftly. Vasco ignored the sudden absence of his warm body quite so close and arm pressed against him so haphazardly… Alexis’ face soured as he continued rambling on the subject freely as he stood and poured another glass.
“Of course ‘sickly’ meant nothing more than skinny and small…” De Sardet rolled his eyes, standing across the small, warm sitting room.
His weight was thrown to one side, left hand folded against a sharp hip, right elegantly holding his glass as only a noble could. He was small, perhaps … shorter than Vasco anyway. And slim. Almost delicate to look at with his high cheekbones and soft, dark brown hair that hung in slight curls about his face. ‘Sickly’ though, Vasco couldn’t see… Moreover, Vasco knew that slightness was deceptive. Mentally and physically, Alexis could out manoeuvre most anyone. He was quick with a rapier or pistol, and quicker with words when it came to politicking. Anyone who underestimated De Sardet was a fool…
“You were subject of gossip over that?” Vasco asked incredulously.
Alexis stared into his glass a moment and said, “I suppose I was more than a tad awkward… particularly with girls. Though that was an altogether different ‘sickness’.”
Alexis drank deeply of his glass and though Vasco was closer to drunk than not he could still read the darkness in Alexis’ tone and expression.
“Still… a Prince’s cousin is a Prince’s cousin and that’s draw enough for plenty of offers.” Alexis said, tone making it clear that any such ‘offers’ were far from wanted.
“So are you only on the island to escape your many admirers? De Sardet you dog!” Vasco jibed, laughing, hoping to lighten the tone. “Leaving a trail of jilted lovers behind you, eh?”
“Hardly.” Alexis scoffed. “I never gave any woman reason to think me interested… yet more reason for gossip, I’m sure. And for my uncle to frequently remind me of the importance of propriety… as if he’s not three Mistresses he houses in a wing of the palace, while I learned to never so much as dare-”
Alexis wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t catch his tongue. He was a diplomat. He had control even at his basest…
“Forgive me, Captain Vasco,” Alexis tried to laugh it off and turned away from Vasco, walking over to the fireplace. “I’ve let the brandy go altogether to my head.”
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Alexis.” Vasco stood up and walked over to De Sardet in front of the fire, drink-dulled senses placing him closer to the slim body leaning against the mantlepiece than he might have stood otherwise. “No need to feel such pressure of propriety amongst friends… I’d thought we were friends by now, eh?”
Alexis smiled up at him, “yes… yes that we are, Vasco. Thank you…”
Vasco realised he was perhaps drunker than he should be when he didn’t stop himself asking…
“So… never gave any women reason, you say?” Vasco intoned, Alexis tensed immediately on long trained instinct, looking down as if preparing to be called any number of hurtful things... Certain that the touch of jealousy that had struck him over De Sardet’s concern for Siora was misplaced, Vasco was hit with a strike of pity. Gilded cages so they said… “Truly? There’s that much concern about such things in the Congregation? I’ve never known a Naut to give half a damn about anyone’s preferences.”
Alexis looked up at the other man, expression a mix of relief and sadness.
“Well…It depends on one’s position. The conservatism of your family. Those who have fallen under the Light of Theleme’s priests are usually particularly hard on such things…” De Sardet said ‘light’ as if he’d happily spit the word into such priest’s faces. Vasco realised just how very unguarded the Legate was being to let such hostility ring openly when he held so politely even before the most zealous of Theleme’s Inquisition.
Vasco had said ‘friends’… Alexis had smiled and agreed. Vasco chest tightened and swelled under the thought.
“One’s private… proclivities, one might say, are one thing,” Alexis continued, letting mockery and bitterness paint over the melancholy Vasco had caught glimpses of. “If you intend, or at least make it publicly seem you intend to marry and produce an heir or two, private matters are private enough…If you’re quiet. And subtle. And of course, one Prince’s noble mistresses may attend at court happily, as long as the bastards never posture too openly… or even another’s string of charming friends and companions from fine families, and paid company from the lower streets may be overlooked. As long as you don’t dare to pretend such relationships are worth anything next to ‘legitimate’ ones.”
The tension set back into Alexis’ jaw. Vasco placed a hand warmly on his shoulder. He seemed to soften under the touch, those layers of bitterness thinly plastered over the pains peeling back.
“Sleeping with a stableboy or a young man I met on the docks… it was embarrassing if one was caught but not exactly a scandal. And of course every court has a few lecherous older men more than happy to prey on the young and misguided…” Alexis’ voice betrayed him before his eyes did; he turned to the fire not able to look Vasco in the face as he spoke… like the last leaf clinging to a thin branch beset by winds and gales. Or the last scrap of an old, torn sail, Vasco thought, that always stood so stubborn on a mast doomed by storm-damage. “Even being with a son of another noble house… Boys are such wayward things…what’s the harm of friends being so close- even…intimate. As long as you don’t breathe a word. As long as you both swear to yourselves and each other you’ll come of age and marry and never touch each other again. As long as you don’t dare…”
Alexis voice faded into nothingness. Vasco tightened his grip on his shoulder and pulled him gently against his warm body. Alexis’ eyes were wide, shimmering pools of damp browns and greens. He willed the tears not to fall and let his head rest against Vasco’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Alexis,” Vasco’s voice was a soft, low rumble through Alexis’ bones. His eyes stung.
“I wasn’t in love with him… not quite. I didn’t get a chance to be. His father caught a letter he was going to send me. I never knew what it said, but obviously it was enough…I only found out through gossip he’d been sent on off to study under some academic in the Bridge Alliance. I’m sure he was forbidden to write to anyone but his father. When I tried to question his family at court about it like the idiotic teenager I was his father at least had the tact to only accuse me of ‘corrupting his son’ when in a private audience with my uncle. My uncle responded with a myriad of rumours about the young man that had long been floating around court and insisted that- the man’s son being my elder by nearly two summers- and there being no evidence I had committed any misconduct, that should the nobleman try to damage his sister and nephew’s name so he would be forced to voice his suspicions that I had been the one ‘corrupted’… The matter was dropped and gossip never dared leave my uncle’s study…” Alexis told the story like it was an ember, dark and aged in the very bottom of his lungs, not a hot flame of pain it might have been once, but still a smouldering that he lived with every breath.
“I heard he married his tutor’s daughter last year.” Alexis pulled away from Vasco, draining his glass swiftly and coughing to clear the sudden rawness from his throat. “My uncle never let me forget how very much I owed him for defending me when he could so easily have dismissed me as a ‘degenerate’…of course, it’s no more criminal under law than any affair. But it would ruin me more than any dalliance with a woman could… and greatly damage Constantin’s reputation too, since we have always been so close- Not to mention how my heartbroken my mother would be by it… Honestly, I’m sure I’d have been forced into a marriage by now were Constantin not so adamant I must be the one to join him in New Serene… So yes, I suppose one’s preferences can be a great concern in the Congregation.”
“You might still be a subject of the Congregation, but you’re a long way from Serene now, Alexis… and your uncle and his kind.” Vasco said softly.
Alexis smiled wistfully. Without thinking, he brushed back a strand of Vasco’s hair that had come loose of the tie at the back of his head. His fingertips lingered a moment on a curved line of tattoo ink on Vasco’s jaw. The Naut’s eyes met his and Alexis’ heart pounded…
Then the Legate snatched his hand back as if burned. Anxiety suddenly seized him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
Vasco took Alexis’ hand, stopping the Legate in his tracks.
“You half look like you’re scared I would hit you,” Vasco’s said, brows raising in concern.
Alexis swallowed and smirked with bitter self deprecation, “you wouldn’t be the first man to strike me for touching him in drunken foolishness.”
Vasco gripped Alexis’ hand gently, holding his gaze steadily. Alexis was sure his heart stopped as the tall, handsome Naut drew his hand towards his tattooed face. He brushed his lips against his knuckles before opening Alexis’ palm and holding it against his own cheek. Alexis wasn’t sure he knew how to breathe. But he could feel the callouses of Vasco’s hand on the back of his, the slight raising of blue-black ink where his palm rested against the Naut’s face.
“Alexis… I’ve no objection to you touching me.” Vasco chuckled softly, arching a brow, “and while you’ve been nothing but a picture of propriety… I’m not in the habit of rejecting impropriety out of hand – and certainly not from any lad as pretty as you…”
Alexis eyes widened. The haze of brandy fell away and his heart pounded against his ribs. He wanted to speak but every phrase died in his throat.
“Of course… Naut’s have a very different sense of these things.” He smirked a little, not so drunk now to not have his wits about him but tipsy enough to feel bold. He removed his hand from atop Alexis’ to trace along his jaw, over the mark there and down his delicate neck. “I wouldn’t want to ruffle your noble sensibilities.”
Alexis still couldn’t talk. Couldn’t get a word past his parted lips. Could only stare at Vasco’s gorgeous face –
Vasco, for what it was worth, was not faring much better, despite his bold talk. Glibness came easier than warm emotion… but he couldn’t help the feeling that rushed in choppily like a tide filling a rock-pool. Each word from De Sardet, each unguarded look, each touch of his fingers; they struck against the rocks and overfilled the limited space he’d thought was his ribcage.
The silence lingered, Alexis’ hand still on Vasco’s cheek, and Vasco’s in turn on the side of his neck.
Alexis broke away first. His hand drew back slowly this time, trying to disturb the quiet as little as possible. Vasco drew back as well, releasing a breath that seemed to melt the stillness. Meeting De Sardet’s eyes was suddenly a mutually difficult task.
“I think I’d better retire before I fully embarrass myself…” Alexis said eventually, not sure how or what exactly he was trying to say as he added. “I uhh- that is… thank you for… all this, Vasco. I appreciate… all of it.”
Appreciated what? Appreciated Vasco tolerating his stupidity? Appreciated him not responding was disgust to what Alexis had said? Appreciated he’d not struck him when emotion and that handsome, tattooed face had got the better of him? Appreciated that Vasco looked about as lost as he did?
Alexis wasn’t sure. He turned towards the stairs.
Vasco moved as if he meant to catch the Legate’s hand but thought better of it. Instead he said to his turned back-
“Any time, De Sar-” he stopped the name before it fell from his lips; the Legate turned to look back and was met was the Naut’s crooked smile. “…Good night, Alexis.”
“Thank you, Vasco.” He replied before he turned and walked up the stairs towards his bedroom.
Alexis seemed to keep his distance from the Naut Captain in the weeks that followed. He was polite, kind as always, but overtly businesslike. Vasco acted like he didn’t notice the change, refusing to acknowledge how he missed the budding warmth between them, the stray glances and slight brushes of De Sardet’s hand on his arm. When Vasco offered to take first watch while on the road, Alexis only nodded.
“Very good. Wake Kurt for the second, the rest of us should sleep.” The Legate said coolly.
Vasco tried not to let his hurt at the withdrawal show. Alexis masked his own emotions almost perfectly. He’d had a lifetime of training for such things. He was the Legate of the Congregation. He was a representative of his nation, the right-hand of the Governor of New Serene, ambassador and diplomat to every other faction and force on the island…
He couldn’t let anything disrupt his fledgling alliances, least of all the sort of gossiping he’d hoped to leave on the mainland. Nobility would always talk, he couldn’t give them fuel against Constantin… for all his cousin generated enough tinder for himself.
He’d said as much to Vasco: who one took to bed was one thing, but these emotions fluttering into being as he let himself be caught up on the striking Captain? He knew he wanted more than to be bedded, and Alexis had sworn off that sort of thing a long time ago.
He focused on his tasks on the island. He forged alliances with the Natives, searched every dead-end trail for a cure for the Malichor, practically ran errands for largely ungrateful Governors. Whatever was needed of him, he did. As he always had.