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"I am told you are being sent on patrol with the knights," Lothric said, voice quiet and even as they walked. His hand was curled around Lorian's elbow to support himself, light enough that Lorian could scarcely feel it through his armor.
"Yes, it appears recent events have forced the Knight General to reevaluate my status among the knights," he replied, consciously slowing his pace as they began to approach the barracks.
"No more being hidden away in the gardens to train then?"
Lorian turned to glance at his brother, but his face betrayed nothing and Lorian wondered if he had imagined the disappointment in his voice. "Not any longer."
"Has he decided to send you alone?"
"I will be accompanied by a Knight Captain."
Lothric turned on his heel, stopping right before the exit to the barracks, releasing Lorian's elbow and shifting to grip his hand to stop him. "Heed my advice, dear brother, you would do well not to trust the Knight General or any he sends by your side."
"I can see to my own wellbeing," Lorian said as he pulled his hand sharply out of his brother's grasp, hand clenching into a fist as he withdrew it behind his back.
There was a beat of silence as Lothric's gaze fell to where his hand was still extended before lowering it to his side. "Even he would not be so foolish as to attempt to maim you, but there are a multitude of ways to cause harm."
"What are you suggesting?" Lorian demanded.
"I merely advise that if you bear the burden of secrets, that they remain as such." Lothric's eyes met his as he paused, as if searching for something in Lorian's expression. "Scandal has always brought faster ruin to kingdoms than bloodshed."
It was as if he knew. As if he could see clearly that which Lorian had held close to his chest for longer than he dared admit. That which he would barely admit to himself in the privacy of his own thoughts let alone dare give voice to aloud.
All Lorian could do was clench his jaw and give a curt nod before pushing the doors to the Keep open where the Knight Captain was waiting. He flexed open the hand that Lothric had grasped before clenching it back into a fist once more.
He did not turn to look at his brother as the door closed behind him.
*
"She's not bad for a village girl," The Knight Captain, Saegar, drawled over his drink. But his words failed to draw Lorian's gaze away from where he was staring at his hand, the other preoccupied with a drink of his own. He had lost track of how many drinks they had consumed. There was little else to do in this village while they waited for the bridge to be repaired.
Lorian realized he could no longer recall what it had felt like - Lothric's hand gripping his own.
"You okay?" Saegar tried again.
This time Lorian did look up from his drink and could see over Saegar's shoulder the barmaid he must have been speaking of. She was objectively beautiful: long, honey blonde hair and warm brown eyes, her skin flushing when his gaze landed on her.
Would Lothric flush in the same way, he wondered.
Lorian drank deeply - as if the drink could banish such unbidden thoughts - and wished they had never been stuck in the village for as long as they had. He finally responded to Saegar, "Fine."
"Uh-huh," he scoffed, knocking back the rest of his own drink. "You know, not to overstep, but you seem a little…"
"What?" Lorian snapped, more irritable than usual. Another reason he usually preferred not to drink excessively.
Saegar shrugged, "Forlorn?"
"Forlorn," Lorian repeated in disbelief.
He nodded, waving the barmaid over to refill their drinks, smiling pleasantly at the girl who dared not even lift her head, hair curtaining her face from Lorian's gaze. But he could still see her flushed neck as she leaned forward, scurrying away the moment their cups had been refilled.
"Yeah, I mean I get it, you know? It's hard being away for so long from someone you love."
Lorian tensed, saying nothing.
"I mean, Gods, the missus and I have known each other since we were kids. Practically conjoined at the hip. She even took a job in the kitchens when I enlisted," he smiled recounting the memory of her. "I know how hard it can be, is all I'm saying. She must be something special too, if even that pretty barmaid isn't catching your attention."
A part of Lorian was relieved at the assumption, relaxing slightly as he took another long drink.
But another part of him resented the stranglehold his brother held over his heart without even realizing. Even days later, he could not push from his mind the thought of his hand on Lorian's, his almost whispered warning born of true concern for Lorian's wellbeing. A concern none other had ever shown him sincerely.
And it was that very reason why Lorian could scarcely bear to hold these emotions. Could hardly stand to be near his brother.
"They do not need the burden of my affections," Lorian muttered as he finished his drink and rose to his feet, stalking off to the room, leaving Saegar to finish his drink alone.
*
"Brother," Lothric's voice greeted him, his hand sliding easily into Lorian's, twining their fingers together. This time there were no gauntlets in the way as he felt the chill of Lothric's hand against his own.
Still seated, Lorian moved to pull his hand away, but Lothric tightened his grip, and Lorian hesitated for fear of hurting him.
"It seems I must hold you hostage to even have a civil conversation these days. Do you despise my presence so completely?" Despite the harshness of the accusation, there was no malice in his voice.
He tried to refute, but the words died in his throat as Lothric's grip tightened, clawed fingers digging in the back of his hand.
"Do you find me so repulsive?"
It would not be a far leap, Lorian realized, based on how distantly he kept Lothric. Still, he said nothing even as Lothric leaned in closer, lips brushing against the tip of his ear and Lorian shivered.
"No. It is worse than repulsion," Lothric's voice lowered, twisting into something darker, "...it is desire."
The certainty with which he said it caused Lorian to rip his hand free from Lothric's grasp, leaving him with only the sensation of small rivulets of blood dripping down the skin. But Lothric spared him no mercy before his hands were back, cupping either side of Lorian's jaw, thumbs pressed at the edges of Lorian's lips as Lothric jerked his head up roughly.
"Confess," Lothric commanded, hood slipping from his head as he bowed over Lorian, a shadow of an expression slipping across his features that Lorian wished he couldn't identify.
"I have nothing to confess." The words tumbled out of his mouth too hastily; a mistake that did not go unnoticed.
"No?"
It was as natural as breathing to force his voice to be cold and neutral, to bury any trace of the emotions he felt surging in his chest slip into his voice. A lie he had told often enough that he could almost believe it to be true. "No."
Lothric was silent as he stared down at him before a grin stretched over his face, one that didn't reach his eyes, devoid of the sincerity Lorian had grown so accustomed to seeing. It made him look a stranger, made Lorian's blood run cold as Lothric leaned closer, "Liar."
Before Lorian could wrench himself out of his brother's grip, Lothric had bowed his head, pressing his forehead against Lorian's. He froze, even as his body screamed to pull away, to deny, but as Lothric's hands slid back, cradling the back of his head, he could feel himself giving in, leaning into the touch as his own hands gripped the coarse fabric of Lothric's robes.
He hated himself for it.
"Is this what you want?" Lothric asked, lips like fire grazing against his cheek while slipping a knee between Lorian's legs, pressing against him.
"No."
If he repeated it enough times, he could force it to be true.
"Liar."
A kiss pressed like a burn to his cheek, just shy of his lips, and Lorian could feel how his body betrayed him, heart thundering in his chest.
"Tell me the truth, dear brother. You are my only confidant after all," Lothric whispered. "I would beg of you, at least, to be truthful with me where others will not."
The last dredges of his resolve shattered.
"Then yes," Lorian confessed. Despaired.
"Tell me," Lothric demanded.
The words felt like ash in his mouth, "This is what I want."
"If I give this to you, swear to me that you will never leave my side. That you will never betray me."
Lorian squeezed his eyes shut, could feel the burn behind his eyelids as his heart ached and he would have rather welcomed death a thousand times over than endure this even once. "I swear."
"If this is the price of your loyalty, your love," Lothric began, voice empty and hollow as he leaned in at last, ghosting his lips over Lorian's - as if to burn the words upon him like a brand, "then I shall pay it."
*
He awoke slowly, realization of the dream - the nightmare - washing over him as Lorian came to consciousness. As if he could erase the memory of the dream, he raised both hands to his face, pressing his palms against his eye sockets, fingers digging into his scalp as he laid in silent agony.
Lorian was no stranger to such dreams, but they had become more frequent, more real, all while the Lothric in his dreams became crueler, not at all representative of his actual brother. No, he knew very well that the Lothric in his nightmares was nothing more than his own fears and self loathing.
But that knowledge did nothing to stop him from believing it to be echoes of the truth.
A knock on the door pulled Lorian from his thoughts as he forced himself to sit up, hunching forward with his elbows on his knees. The sheet gathered at his waist hid the other consequences of such dreams and nightmares - consequences he preferred to ignore.
"Come," he called out.
Saegar looked worse for wear as he pushed the door open, leaning heavily against it. Clearly, he had continued drinking after Lorian had retired. He yawned before announcing, "Just got word the bridge is repaired."
"Good. Then we will depart back to the castle."
"About that," Saegar winced, pushing himself off of the door frame as he walked into the room, holding out a letter. "One of Gotthard's stopped by, had this for you."
Lorian took it, recognized the seal on the wax at once and knew it was a letter from Lothric. "Go saddle the horses, I will meet you outside."
Apparently Saegar had sense enough not to ask about the letter as he ducked out of the room, shutting the door behind himself.
Word from his brother to any knights on patrol only ever brought unfavorable news - worse still if it was sent with one of Gotthard's men. He wasted no time breaking the seal and unfurling the letter, greeted with the sight of his brother's handwriting; the ink had been smudged in places, something Lorian had only seen in letters he'd written in a rush.
I spoke to you of the burden of secrets all the while foolishly allowing one of mine to fall into the wrong hands. I have no right to ask such a request, but in the absence of others I can trust, I would ask you to travel to Irithyll and share the burden of this secret of mine.
I entrust this task to you alone, and with it the hope that one day you might entrust me with the same.
Lorian folded the letter before rising to dress, his mind working over the contents of the letter which had provided him with little in terms of information. While Lorian believed himself to be open and honest in most matters, he knew his brother to be the opposite entirely. He coveted secrets and schemes, weapons to be wielded on his battlefield of politics.
To be entrusted with such a task in lieu of even Gotthard or his Hunters brought Lothric's words rushing back; what ruin did his brother fear his own secrets may bring?
*
"Please, be welcome, Prince Lorian," Pontiff Sulyvahn greeted as Lorian entered the large cathedral in the heart of the kingdom of Irithyll. They were alone with Saeger stationed at the entrance at Lorian's insistence. If, indeed, the Pontiff had acquired a secret of Lothric's, it would be foolish to invite the man to eavesdrop.
"While your hospitality is appreciated, I would prefer this visit to remain brief," Lorian replied respectfully.
"Of course. I have no doubt your brother wishes to see what is rightfully his, returned," Sulyvahn said with a smug expression that unnerved Lorian. "I have seen to it that she was well looked after for the brief time that she was in my care."
She?
The doors to the side of the cathedral creaked open and Lorian watched as a woman with black hair and charcoal robes entered. At a glance he could see nothing that would indicate she was in poor condition, or anything else for that matter that may have been remarkable.
When she saw Lorian, she stopped where she stood and fell to one knee, bowing her head low, "My Lord."
"Rise," Sulyvahn commanded - even though she was not kneeling to him - and placed a hand on her shoulder. She hesitantly moved to her feet, head still bowed. "It would seem Prince Lothric received your letter in a timely fashion and has sent his finest warrior to escort you home."
"Yes, your Eminence," she agreed politely.
Sulyvahn turned back to Lorian, "Do pass along a message to your brother that he is always welcome in Irithyll and that I look forward to meeting him at last."
"I will inform him," Lorian replied curtly, wishing to leave as quickly as possible. He could handle surface level politics, but navigating the complexity that was Sulyvahn given his relationship with Oceiros was beyond his depth. If there was one thing he had learned from Lothric over the year, it was that knowledge truly was more powerful than the blade at times, and it was abundantly clear that Sulyvahn had more information than Lorian at the moment. Moreover, the fact that he knew more than Lorian alone could be enough to be damning if Lorian was not careful of what he said - or rather didn't say. To the outside world, he and Lothric must appear to be a united front, aware of the other's machinations at all times.
To be seen otherwise would put them both, as well as the kingdom, at terrible risk.
Lorian took the woman by the elbow, leading her to the exit as he spoke low so only she could hear, "Speak nothing of your circumstances to the Knight Captain."
"I have already been advised by Prince Lothric on the importance of secrecy," she assured him. "I do not believe we have had the pleasure of speaking before. I was once one of your brother's tutors, though I have since returned to my studies in the Archives."
He glanced at her as they exited the cathedral and he finally placed why she had seemed familiar. Kriemhild still wore the robes of a Fire Keeper even though she had turned her back on the position, but it was that experience that had garnered her a position as Lothric's tutor, to instruct him in his duties to the First Flame.
At the time, Lorian had resented her for it.
But perhaps that resentment had been misplaced; for her of all those in Lothric's purview to be here, and implicated in Lothric's letter, meant that whatever Lothric feared being discovered had implications beyond simple politics of the kingdom. It may very well concern his title as Lord of Cinder.
He would be unable to ask her about it while Saegar was still around - but that at least was a problem he may be able to handle. The man leapt away from where he had been leaning against the wall just outside the cathedral, taking up the flank behind Kriemhild and Lorian. Saegar said nothing, a wise move considering the Irithyll knights flanking them as they made their way towards where their horses were waiting.
"After you, milady," Saegar said, extending his hand out toward Kriemhild to help her mount his horse.
She reached out to take his hand, but Lorian interjected, "She will be riding with me. You will ride ahead and signal if there is any trouble as we return."
Kriemhild seemed surprised at the command but Saegar didn't seem to mind, instead his grin widened as he gave a wink and a quick salute to Lorian before clamoring onto the back of his horse.
As he did so, Lorian lifted Kriemhild by her waist - her robes were a similar coarseness as Lothric's and her waist nearly as frail - until she was perched on the back of his own horse. He then moved behind her, reaching around either side of her to grab the reins to begin leading them out of the kingdom.
Saegar didn't need to be instructed again, thankfully, as he rode a fair distance ahead in order to keep an eye out as Lorian had ordered. There was still a chance they might be overheard, but in his experience, it was unlikely given the distance.
"How did you come to the kingdom of Irithyll?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet.
Kriemhild stirred in front of him, angling slightly to glance back at him before answering, "It was never the intention to enter Irithyll. I was returning from much more treacherous lands, in search of information for Prince Lothric."
"He sent you directly?"
"As I said, my Lord, I have been informed of the importance of secrecy." She was silent for a few moments, staring straight ahead where Saegar was visible just at the crest of the hill. "You do not trust the Knight Captain?"
Lorian let out a small huff of laughter, "I was informed - the same as you."
"Prince Lothric has always been overly cautious, to the point of self-ruin at times."
How much did she truly know? "What do you mean by that?"
"Ah, forgive me, I sometimes forget my place. Prince Lothric always encouraged me to speak plainly in our lessons - a bad habit around others I fear. The comment was not intended as a slight against him, merely an observation."
"And what is it you have observed?" Lorian pried.
Kriemhild didn't reply right away as she stretched a hand forward to stroke through the horse's mane. "Did you know he always insisted on my lessons taking place in the gardens on the days he felt well?"
"He has always preferred the outdoors to being locked away inside."
"You believe so? I always found that he hated it, he always had complaints - the ground was uncomfortable, the Knight General was too loud, it was too hot in the midday; yet he kept insisting on them. They were also the worst days to tutor him as he was rarely engaged with my lessons, his attention entirely occupied across the gardens where you were being berated by said loud Knight General."
Lorian couldn't recall it himself. Whenever there had been a lull in his training, a moment to glance at his brother, Lothric had always seemingly been engrossed in his lessons, his gaze never once crossing with Lorian's. But it was as Kriemhild had said, the Knight General had an irrefutable temper, and Lorian's mere existence had seemed enough to cause the man to fly into a rage.
Kriemhild continued, "I've found Prince Lothric will try to justify his reasons with anything but the simple truth."
There was a truth to her words that was undeniable, but he did not dare push that line of questioning further. "And what did he use to justify sending you to such treacherous lands alone?"
"A desire to have that which he has been denied," she said simply and then reached into her robes and pulled out a grimy container so small it fit easily in the palm of her hand. Kriemhild turned as much as she could manage on the horse, and smiled as she slipped it into Lorian's saddlebag. "I will entrust you to keep this safe and deliver it to Prince Lothric."
Before he could ask any further questions, the sound of hooves alerted them that Saegar was riding back towards them, hollering out in warning, "Hollows ahead!"
*
There were few places in the kingdom that Lothric tended to frequent; it was how Lorian found himself with his hand poised to knock on the open door of his brother's study, pausing only at the sight. At his desk, Lothric was slouched forward, head propped up on a closed fist, his other hand outstretched in front of him resting on an open book. The dark smudges under his eyes betrayed how otherwise serene he appeared as he dozed.
Lorian found himself closing the door and walking lightly towards where Lothric sat, so as not to wake him, grateful that he'd taken the opportunity to change from his armor before searching for his brother. A stray lock of hair fell across Lothric's face and Lorian could not help but to reach out and lightly sweep it off to the side, his fingertips lightly grazing Lothric's cheek as he did so. His skin was warm to the touch from sleep, his head unconsciously leaning towards the foreign touch.
He ripped his hand away, realizing he had once again forgotten his place and took a step back from the desk, bowing forward enough that he could reach Lothric's shoulder to lightly shake it to awaken him.
As soon as Lorian's hand touched his shoulder, Lothric snapped up with a sharp intake of breath, sitting up straight in his chair and the hand that his head had been leaning on grabbed Lorian's wrist as he came to wakefulness. His eyes followed Lorian's arm up and once he recognized who it was his guarded expression softened and he released Lorian's wrist. "You have returned."
"I have," Lorian agreed, pulling away and folding both hands behind his back as he stood straight as if giving a report to the Knight General.
"I trust the matter in Irithyll was dealt with delicately," Lothric probed, his voice guarded as he studied Lorian's expression.
"It was. Mistress Kriemhild has already returned to her studies at the Grand Archives."
Lothric frowned at that, peering beyond Lorian's shoulder toward the doorway before asking, "She is not with you?"
Rather than answer directly, Lorian pulled out the small box that Kriemhild had given to him and placed it on Lothric's desk. "She entrusted me to deliver this to you on her behalf."
"I see," Lothric said, reaching a hand out and placing it atop the box. "Did you open it?"
"No."
"But you know what it is?"
"I have my suspicions," Lorian offered. He may never have received the same tutoring that Lothric had in matters concerning the First Flame, but he had learned enough from Lady Emma, and was able to fill in the gaps himself.
"Go on."
"It is an artifact related to the First Flame, and I can think of few that would be worth the risk of retrieving. Given Mistress Kriemhild's experience, and place as your tutor, there is little else I suspect you would send her specifically to retrieve."
Lothric said nothing, but Lorian noted the way his shoulders tightened and he looked away from Lorian, focusing instead on the container. "And?"
"Either you wished it to be removed from the world of Men so that it does not fall into the wrong hands–"
"Or?" Lothric pressed.
In spite of years of Lothric's self-deprecating gallows humor, Lorian had never dared even entertain the idea, but once he realized what he was retrieving from Irithyll the thought had consumed him. Even suggesting it may have been considered heresy if he was wrong, but all of Lothric's mannerisms told him he was right. "Or you wish to use it in some manner to avoid linking the flame."
He could see in the way Lothric's hand tightened around the container that he was bracing himself for judgment or scorn, but he would receive neither from Lorian. Lorian was still attempting to come to terms with it himself - that Lothric wished to betray everything his title stood for. Everything that the kingdom stood for.
That he would willingly choose to see the world end.
That he might live.
"Tell me, brother, will you speak of my treason to the others? To Father?" Lothric's voice was quiet, not revealing any emotions, but Lorian could see the white knuckled grip he held on the container, betraying him. "Undoubtedly in the absence of a suitable replacement they would command you to throw me to the fire or even take my place. Holy King Lorian, Lord of Cinder, last bastion of hope for Men and Gods alike. I could understand the temptation of the title, of the power."
That Lothric believed Lorian capable of such a thing cut deeper than any blade. But he did not give voice to that thought. "I am the firstborn son cast aside by the King as heir; I accepted my fate long ago. I have no wish to inherit your title or station."
"Then will you accept this burden, this secret of mine, and stand by my side? It will not be an easy path. We will make enemies of even those who once held us closest."
If I give this to you, swear to me that you will never leave my side. That you will never betray me.
Dreams blurred with reality and though Lorian knew that it was not the same, he could not help but draw parallels, to clench his hand tightly and drag himself back to reality and the weight of the question at hand.
There seemed only one gesture appropriate, and Lorian lowered himself to one knee, resting one arm atop it and bowing his head low. "You are the future King of Lothric and my brother, it is to you that I have pledged my loyalty, not the First Flame. If this is your wish, I shall stand by you."
"Oh, dear brother," Lothric began, rising from his chair and moving to the other side of his desk to kneel before Lorian. He placed his hands on Lorian's shoulders as he continued, "Words alone cannot express my gratitude for your support, knowing that even if all others should cast me aside, I shall always be able to depend on you."
Lorian said nothing, merely kept his head bowed, trying to focus on anything but the weight of Lothric's hands on his shoulders and the sound of relief in his voice. It was the closest to happiness that he had heard from his brother in as long as he could recall.
Lothric stood once more, removing his hands and urging, "Rise, if you would. I would have your place be at my side, not before me. If we are to walk this path together then it should be as equals."
And that was enough. It was already more than he could ever ask for, more than he deserved. He was no longer trapped in the shadows, instead pulled into the light at Lothric's insistence. And so, Lorian rose to his feet, burying the piece of himself that wished for more. Always more.
"You would entrust me with such an honor?" Lorian asked.
"An honor?" Lothric smiled, "I fear you will not believe it such for long. In fact, I dared not let myself believe you would accept it at all and might sooner throw me to the flames yourself at such heresy."
"Do you truly think so little of me?"
Lothric's smile vanished. "I believe it an impossibility to hold any opinion of you concerning the matter of your feelings towards me; in recent years more than ever prior."
"Then know at least that I would never wish harm upon you, and never at my own hands."
An uncomfortable silence fell over them as Lothric said nothing, merely regarded Lorian, watching his face as if he could read his secrets from his expression. He seemingly gave up after a short time, moving to take his seat once more, hunched forward over his desk, looking more tired than when Lorian had entered. "You should go, I am certain you are tired from your travels."
Lorian inclined his head and turned to the door, pausing for a moment as Lothric called out after him. "Know that I meant what I said in my letter. Whatever secret you believe you must withhold from me, it will never make me think less of you."
*
Morning came quickly and Lorian found himself drawn to the gardens after a night of fitful sleeping. He may have been granted permission enough to take on patrols beyond the castle walls, but that did not mean he would let his training suffer. Surely he would be able to find a sparring partner at the barracks, but Kriemhild's words had ignited a curiosity.
As afternoon neared, he at last saw Lothric crossing the gardens to stand just far enough away that he might not have drawn Lorian's attention under normal circumstances. But Lorian had been waiting to see if he would show. He sheathed his sword and turned to Lothric, calling out, "Surely my training must be a distraction to your work."
"A small sacrifice to pay so that I might observe you." A smile ghosted over his lips, "After all, that is why you are also here is it not? So that we might observe each other?"
"Is that why you took your lessons here?" Lorian began to make his way towards Lothric who made no further effort to move himself.
"If not here, where else? It was a rarity enough that we were permitted to see each other here."
Lorian stopped a short distance away. "A fair point, but it cannot be why you are truly here now."
"No," Lothric agreed, tilting his head up to gaze toward the sun. "In truth, I wished to see if you would accompany me."
"Where?"
"That is a secret," Lothric smirked and pulled out a faded scrap of cloth and handed it to Lorian. "Humor me."
Lorian had no idea what game his brother was playing at, but he knew the only way to find out was to play along. He took the cloth and wrapped it around his eyes, tying it at the back of his head.
"Good," Lothric praised, reaching out to take his hand and pull him forward. "Follow me."
He had a rough idea of the direction Lothric was taking him as they left the garden and their footsteps echoed on stone. Beside him, Lothric's voice calmly guided him, informing him of each step, and he could only trust that he was being truthful in his instructions. Lothric's grasp was surprisingly firm as he pulled Lorian along, farther and farther.
And then, Lothric's hand released his and a moment later his hands were pushing up on the cloth to uncover Lorian's eyes. It took him a moment to realize where they were, having only entered this place perhaps once or twice before as part of Emma's teachings.
"The Shrine?" Lorian asked, turning to look at Lothric.
Lothric vanished in a flash of light, his voice echoing from much further away a moment later, "I suppose I never did grow into this throne."
It practically engulfed him; even if he hadn't been hunched over with his legs crossed, one arm propped up on his leg and his chin resting in his hand, Lothric still would not have even come close to filling the vast stone throne that eclipsed even all others in the Shrine.
"And now you have no need to, by your own schemes." Lorian took a step forward toward the center of the shrine where a coiled blade rested in embers and ash.
Lothric raised a finger to his lips barely masking the curl of his lips as he seemingly peered around. After a moment of silence, he nodded approvingly, "It appears that we have free reign to unburden ourselves of our secrets here. "
Lorian felt his stomach drop. "You have already alluded to your plan, what more is there to tell?"
"I have no need to reveal any further secrets. You, on the other hand…" Lothric vanished from the throne, reappearing before Lorian, hooking a curled finger under his chin. "You still owe me a confession."
"I hold no secrets that would matter to you."
"Have I not laid my own soul bare, to share with you my intentions to avoid linking the flame?" Lothric demanded, shifting his hand to curl around Lorian's neck. "Did you not swear to me that you would be truthful?"
Lorian recoiled at his words, understanding dawning on him too late.
"Tell me, why did you come to the gardens?"
He could do nothing but answer honestly. "To see if you would be there."
"Why?"
"To indulge in a foolish hope - that what Kriemhild spoke was true."
"Oh?" Lothric pulled him forward until he was stooping lower and they were face to face. Realization dawned on his face and Lothric's free hand traced over the side of Lorian's face as he lamented, "My poor, dear brother. Did you truly believe my desire to know you was at all the same as what you feel for me?"
It would have explained much, and foolishly he had allowed a small part of himself to entertain the idea that maybe he was not alone in this matter and that perhaps his feelings might be reciprocated. But it was exactly that – a foolish hope. Entirely unfounded.
"What if I did feel the same?" Lothric asked, releasing his grip, expression curious. "Would that suddenly make it permissible? Would you allow yourself to have a taste of your heart's desire?"
"There is no point aside from cruelty in entertaining such hypotheticals," Lorian took another step back, seeking space.
But Lothric was not inclined to allow him to have it, crowding back in and sliding his hands up Lorian's chest so that Lorian's breath hitched; he dared not breathe. "What would encourage you to make the first move? Even with the knowledge that I might feel the same, you take no action."
"Because you do not wish it. Not truly."
"No, perhaps not. But love is a powerful tool that can be used to accomplish that thought impossible. At times it has inspired such devotion and loyalty that has caused empires to crumble before it and the wrath of a lover scorned. And you have both strength and love within you that are unparalleled. Imagine what could be wrought with the right guidance."
The embers at the base of the coiled sword sputtered to life, engulfing the sword in flame as it began expanding out to the rest of the Shrine. Lorian tried to pull away, but Lothric gripped his tunic and held him in place with a strength he knew was impossible as the flames spread to the ceiling and out the doorways.
"With you by my side, I would see this kingdom burned to ash so instead they might experience the fate they wished for me."
The flames trailed up their legs until they were each consumed entirely… though Lorian could feel nothing.
No pain.
No heat.
Nothing except the way Lothric's lips seared against his.
*
Every candle and torch in the castle haunted Lorian, reminding him of the nightmare. He had not gone to the gardens to train that morning nor any other morning since he had returned. Instead he threw himself into whatever work the Knight General had available whether it was training new recruits or taking patrols throughout the castle.
"Prince Lorian!" One of Gotthard's hunters, Albert, jogged over and gave a quick salute. "Been a while hasn't it?"
"Does Gotthard need something?" Lorian asked, skipping the pleasantries.
"Not today, but Prince Lothric has requested to see you."
The summons was unexpected; Lothric had not sought him or his counsel out since he'd dismissed Lorian when they last spoke. He was currently on a patrol, but if Lothric wished to see him to the point where sent Albert after him, he could hardly refuse. "Where?"
"He was leaving the Archives, headed towards his study."
Then Lorian would check near Archives first. With nothing more than a curt nod to Albert, Lorian headed towards the Archives, wondering for what reason his brother had been there. Apart from the scholars, their father was the only one who frequented the Archives, and he seldom called upon either of them as far as Lorian was aware. Whatever had occurred must have either Lorian or required his strength, otherwise he suspected he would not be summoned. They had not spoken since the last conversation in Lothric's study - something that was likely for the best.
As he crossed the short walkway to Lothric's study, he saw Kriemhild crossing in the opposite direction, stopping as her eye caught Lorian's and her face flushed. She bowed her head before rushing past him with a quiet, "My Lord."
Lorian entered Lothric's study, shutting the door behind him as he was met with the sight of his brother surrounded by collapsing stacks of books that had been pulled from the various shelves, some still haphazardly open and strewn around the floor. His head snapped to Lorian when he entered and his shoulders visibly sagged in relief, "Good, Albert was able to find you. I regret not asking for your assistance in these matters before now, but I had hoped to avoid dragging you into this. Still, I trust you are aware of the situation with Father and Sulyvahn?"
"I merely know that Sulyvahn arrived seeking an audience with him," Lorian replied, suddenly concerned that he did not know what Lothric was referring to.
Lothric appeared just as concerned, his brow furrowing as he frowned. "Sulvyahn has been cooped up with Father in the Archives since his arrival, though to what end they have refused to inform me directly. It is only through Mistress Kriemhild's reports that I have become aware of Sulyvahn's contributions to Father's research of the Paledrake. And as of today I have learned their research has turned to me. Forgive me, brother, I had assumed you had been informed by her."
"I have not spoken with her since the return from Irithyll. Unless you had instructed her to share such information, I fail to see how I would have come by it," Lorian said, watching as Lothric's gaze turned away from him, downcast towards his books. His frown deepened as the silence stretched between them and Lorian finally had to prompt, "Lothric?"
"Forgive me, brother. It appears I have been misinformed," Lothric said, tilting his head to observe him again, folding his hands behind his back. "I believed you thought I may disapprove of the arrangement and did not wish to speak of it, but I should have known better than to believe idle gossip - though the sources appeared credible."
Lorian balked at the implication, "You believed I was having an affair with Kriemhild?"
"There were substantiated claims from the Knight Captain you traveled with," Lothric offered weakly and Lorian recalled Saegar's wink when Lorian had ordered Kriemhild to ride with him instead of Saegar. "It explained why you have been so cross and irritable around me, why you have held me at arms length all this time. If you had been harboring romantic feelings for her that you felt ashamed to share with me, that you bore as your own secret, it provided reason as to why you are always guarded and defensive."
"I would feel no shame in sharing the name with you of the one who holds my affection," Lorian lied, grimacing at how easily he could speak them.
"No?" Lothric pressed. "Then would you share their name with me now if I were to ask? Because even if it is not Kriemhild, it does not require great insight for those around you to see there is someone you hold great affection for in your manners and behavior."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fear dug its claws in as he searched Lothric's face for any hint that he might know the truth, or might learn it and cast Lorian from his side and back into the shadows.
Lothric sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face, "It means that even one such as Saegar was able to see it when you allowed yourself to indulge in your cups. That it has become a matter of quite the speculation amongst the rank and file, the idle servants, and even the nobility who have beseeched Father for you to be wed to their daughters."
"There is no one to speak of," Lorian replied sharply, hoping to put this discussion to rest. This was not the conversation he had been expecting to have, though at least Lothric appeared just as uncomfortable with the change of topic.
"Mere moments ago you said you would share their name with me without shame. Would you renege on your word so readily?"
Leave it to Lothric to ensnare him in his own words, his own lies.
"If they were to hold my affections, you would know their name, but my feelings are wholly unreciprocated," Lorian said, taking a step forward in warning to try and dissuade Lothric. "I would appreciate if this matter were put to rest."
Lothric seemed unfazed by Lorian's approach, but he winced at Lorian's declaration of unrequited feelings, "Forgive me for overstepping, and moreover for making such assumptions on baseless rumors. You have my word it will not happen again."
"Then we should return to the matter at hand; clearly you did not summon me here to pry into my private affairs."
"Yes of course," Lothric said, regaining his composure and perching on the edge of his desk as he explained, "Father seeks some manner to enhance my strength so that I might be more suitable to inherit the mantle of Lord."
"Does he have any plan to accomplish such a feat?" Lorian asked, his own imagination readily conjuring up terrible ideas. Oceiros had sought his own strength by studying the Paledrake which had resulted in his disfigurement as he became more beast than man. The mere thought of him attempting to force a similar fate on Lothric was enough to rekindle his resentment of their father.
"Nothing substantial, though I suspect it is only a matter of time. I am told your name has already been raised in these conversations."
"To what end? He declared himself that I am unfit to bear the title."
Lothric gestured to the scattered books with a wry smile, "Behold, the subject of my own studies. If he seeks to leverage your strength in some capacity, there would be precedent. I intend to find it and prevent it, but more importantly I need you to be aware in the unlikely event that they summon you to speak with them in the Archives so that you are not blindsighted."
It was subtle, but even though Lothric appeared frustrated, he seemed more energetic and engaged, with a determination Lorian could not recall seeing from him in recent memory. It was a welcome sight, one Lorian had always hoped he would see more frequently. He could not help but point it out, "In spite of everything, you seem well since we last spoke."
"I am simply trying to come to terms with the fact that my death is no longer predetermined," Lothric said. "It feels as if a great weight has been lifted from my shoulders, regardless what hardships may come as a consequence – but it is also terrifying. Every choice I make now matters. They are decisions I will have to live with. Some days I now find myself paralyzed with fear over such decisions."
Lorian couldn't help but smile at his words. It was rare to hear his brother so… alive. "If I can ever be of help, I am at your disposal."
"Then tell me, how do you do it?" Lothric hesitated, "How do you make personal decisions that may not turn out the way you expect?"
"I fear I might be the worst person to ask for such advice," Lorian offered.
"The unrequited feelings?" Lothric asked and at Lorian's nod he simply hummed, ruminating on it. "Will you tell me what they said at least? I have a hard time imagining any in the kingdom that would be so foolish as to reject your affections."
Lorian chose his response carefully, "They did not say it in words."
Shifting off the desk and to his feet, Lothric stepped closer, "Did you confess to them?"
"No."
"I see," Lothric said, raising a curled hand, resting his knuckles on Lorian's breastplate, lingering there. "Then if you did not confess, and they did not speak a word of rejection, how can you be so certain that they do not share your feelings?"
Lorian reached up and gently took Lothric's hand into his, moving it away, "You asked my advice: there will be times when the consequences of your actions may bring unimaginable despair and irreparable ruin. It is up to you to decide whether you would be able to live with the outcome should the worst come to pass."
"You believe your love has the potential to be so ruinous?" Lothric asked softly.
"I believe I have remained long enough; I must return to my patrol." Lorian squeezed Lothric's hand lightly before letting it go and taking a step towards the door to leave, pausing only to say, "I cherish the relationship I hold already, I have learned to be content with that much."
*
More than usual, Lorian felt as if his every move was being watched and observed, seemingly never being allowed a moment alone. If he was not being watched by the Knight General, then it was Gotthard's Hunters, his father's scholars, or the servants. And, more recently, his brother.
Lothric had gone from avoiding Lorian entirely to seeking him out near daily. He would ambush Lorian in places where he had no convenient excuse to leave - he would accompany Lorian on parts of his patrols throughout the Keep, or insist on dining together in the evenings, or most recently seek him out in his chambers in the dead of night. He would wrap his arms around Lorian's as they walked, would pluck food from Lorian's plate, and lean against Lorian's shoulder with a book in hand in his chambers as he explained the latest findings from his own research.
It was driving Lorian mad.
He was currently lounging in his own bed reading the latest reports from the scouts outside their borders to see if there was anything of importance. Most of it was standard; hollows appearing in nearby villages, a few beasts that would require a patrol to dispatch them, nothing particularly out of the ordinary. It allowed Lorian's mind to wander, missing the warmth of Lothric against his shoulder, the sound of his voice narrating a passage. It had only been happening for a few weeks now, and it terrified Lorian at how normal he had allowed it to become.
Pushing the thought from his mind, he tossed the current report aside and picked up another, skimming through the pages. This report opened with tales of a demon spotted near the village Lorian had patrolled not so long ago. The village itself was reportedly safe with few casualties, but perhaps more concerning was that this was the second such sighting in as many weeks. He would have to search for the prior report for proof that he could bring to the Knight General to justify sending a patrol, perhaps even go himself to tend the matter.
"Usually I am the one with such a serious expression, oblivious to the world around me," Lothric teased lightly from where he stood at the foot of Lorian's bed, a weathered tome tucked under his arm.
Lorian hadn't heard him enter, but nevertheless he shuffled over slightly on the bed, a silent invitation as he moved the discarded reports out of the way. "Should I expect this to happen every night?"
"Only when I have news, or matters to discuss," Lothric said, climbing onto the bed and settling in beside him.
Lorian allowed himself the indulgence to drape his arm over Lothric's shoulders. "And which is it tonight?"
"Both. The Pontiff has finally departed to return to Irithyll."
"Then they have found what they were searching for?"
"Not quite," Lothric said, his relief palpable. "A small blessing, though I suspect it only temporary. After all, as far as they are concerned the linking of the fire cannot be delayed forever. It does, at least, buy time so that I might continue my own preparations."
He wished he could capture the spark that had set his brother alight, that had him working tirelessly to change his fate - far too clever for the hand life had dealt him. Even with all the limitations placed upon him, he never allowed them to stop him.
He set down the report in his other hand and reached over to take the tome from Lothric's grasp, realizing why it had seemed so familiar as he opened it. "Plans that require the Knight General's personal journal?"
"If we are to do this, I cannot have someone loyal to Oceiros leading our army," Lothric reached out, pulling the journal from his hand and discarding it on the bed, replacing it with his own hand.
His heart raced at the touch, at the implication. "You propose treason."
"I propose a change of guard; the details are of no consequence yet. What I need to know is whether or not you would say yes." His fingers curled around Lorian's hand and Lorian wished he could see Lothric's expression currently hidden behind his hood.
It would not be unprecedented, but it had the potential to be looked upon negatively if they rushed into the matter. "In time, but first I need to improve my reputation amongst the knights and the public. If I am to hold such a title, it must be seen as earned."
"You have something in mind then?" Lothric asked, surprise and pride coloring his voice.
His gaze fell to the report, but Lothric didn't need to know the details just yet. Not until he was certain. "There may be something."
Lothric hummed his approval, angling towards Lorian's body and settling in closer until his head was leaning against Lorian's chest. Wordlessly, Lorian shifted the arm draped around his shoulders lower to a more comfortable position, his hand resting lightly on Lothric's hip. He dared not pull his hand free from Lothric's grasp to reach for the report, not knowing when he might have the chance to enjoy a moment such as this again. If Sulyvahn was gone and Lothric's research stopped, then likely these evening discussions too would stop.
He bowed his head forward, allowing his eyes to slip shut as he leaned against the top of Lothric's head, the coarse fabric of the hood pressed against his cheek. Every touch, every breath, every feeling - he would commit it all to memory.
It would be easy, to fall into the serenity of the situation, allow himself to let sleep wash over him, here with Lothric curled against his chest. Soft and warm. Alive. Content.
Lothric's free hand joined the other, holding Lorian's hand lightly between both. His voice was hushed when he next spoke, "If this is what it is like to be the object of your affections, then I stand by my judgment that they are a fool."
"They are no fool, of that I can assure you," Lorian murmured, unwilling and unable to censor himself, allowing himself to speak what he truly felt. "That they do not feel the same is no fault of their own, it is simply a cruel joke of life that our circumstances are such."
There was a pause before Lothric insisted, "Tell me about them."
"I admire them. Profoundly. They are wiser than they are given credit, with a sharp wit and clever tongue that could sway any to their side. Life has been cruel to them, but they are kind, despite how easy it would be for them to return such cruelty." Lorian paused, admitting somberly, "I confess, even I have been cruel to them for the sake of my own pride and feelings - something which I regret deeply."
"Have you made amends?" There was no judgment in Lothric's voice.
Lorian hesitated, raising his head and opening his eyes to stare at Lothric's hands curled around his. "I am trying."
Lothric's grip tightened, almost imperceptibly, before he whispered, as quiet as a prayer, "I forgive you."
The serenity of the moment was gone as Lorian despaired, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he tried to pull away, dragging his hand from Lothric's grasp and moving to the other side of the bed. Beside him, Lothric's hood slipped from his head as he caught himself, hands planted on the bed holding himself upright after Lorian disappeared from beneath him. He looked up at Lorian with a wounded expression more painful than any of the words he had said in Lorian's nightmares.
"Should I not have received your words as a confession?" Lothric asked as he followed him across the bed, placing his hands on Lorian's shoulders and slinging a knee to Lorian's other side so that he was looking down on him, so that Lorian could not easily escape without moving him forcefully.
"Lothric–" he started, but stopped when he realized he could feel the way Lothric's hands were trembling against his shoulders.
"I have done all I can to be certain of this. I have inquired and had you followed, even inserted myself in your affairs - all to catch a glimpse, a whisper, a glance, of the one who held such sway over you, only to find nothing each time." He paused, taking a steadying breath before continuing, "If this was not your confession, then consider it mine: there is not a day that passes where my thoughts are not consumed by you. I do not care what judgment others may pass on us, or the morality of the matter. I would have you by my side, in every sense you would allow it."
Lorian cast his gaze aside, wanting desperately to believe what Lothric was offering, that he spoke the truth and that this was not just another dream. Another nightmare. But he could not bring himself to believe it. "If I have led you to believe accepting my affections is the only way I will stand by you, then I assure you that you do not need to force yourself into this."
"You believe I am saying this so that I might use you as a pawn? A tool?" One of Lothric's hands left his shoulder, moving to his cheek, to turn Lorian's face back towards him, so that he could see his expression like an open wound. "Do you think so little of me? Do you believe I could be so cruel?"
"No."
His expression softened in revelation, tracing a thumb across Lorian's cheek, "Do you believe your love is so terrible?"
Lorian could feel his throat tighten as he looked up at his brother's face, "What else could it be?"
"Do you find my love for you terrible as well?"
"Never," he said, reaching up to cover the hand pressed against his cheek.
"I do," Lothric offered softly. "Unlike you, my love comes with unfair burdens that I would never have wished upon you. I dared not even allow myself to entertain the notion, knowing that my life had an expiration."
"Not any longer."
"No, instead I have decided to walk down the harder path that may end in just as much tragedy." Lothric smiled sadly, "But if you are to be by my side regardless, and if you feel the same, should we not allow ourselves this small happiness?"
Lorian let go of Lothric's hand and moved to sit up so that they were face to face, looking for any trace of insincerity, any excuse that he might use, only to find none. It still seemed surreal, but he wanted to indulge in the moment. Wanted to embrace it. If only for a moment. Until Lothric came to his senses. He slid a hand around the side of Lothric's neck as he leaned in, asking for permission, "May I?"
"Yes," Lothric breathed, leaning in to meet him halfway, his own hands moving up to curl around Lorian's head, pulling him closer as their lips pressed together. Lothric's lips were soft, slightly chapped, and clumsy – but they did not burn.
Lorian smiled into the kiss, allowing the last shackles of his guilt to fall away.