duty. (boyxboy)

Chapter 13.

if you're still reading this you're a real one

the one where forven talks, and he realises communication is important, and he talks some more. there's some vague smut in here ( but if you want i'm totally up for writing something explicit in a later chapter)

~

The wedding was to be held in two week's time, Forven's father had so graciously announced to him that morning, along with instructions to meet with the royal tailor later for the last fitting of his wedding garments. All Forven had been able to do was grit his teeth and agree, even when all he wanted to do was run away to a place he would never be found. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to run again.

He could still walk though, and to aid him he met with a woodworker, who was tasked with making him a new cane befitting of a royal wedding. Forven had asked him to engrave a tiny 'A' on the top. For the world, this meant Aywin. For Forven, well, he wasn't sure if he even dared say the name out loud anymore.

He was still at the palace, though, along with Aywin. The rest of the family had obviously not been able to stay while Forven recovered and would only be returning in time for the wedding. Things were tense. Between everyone, but mostly between the two of them.

But it wasn't like they didn't talk at all.

~

Forven was one second away from going completely insane. He'd been pricked in the thigh four times by this guy who called himself a professional, had had to put on and take off his trousers too many times to count and his nose had had a quite unfortunate encounter with the other man's skull when he got up from taking Forven's inseam for the umpteenth time.

Just when he had not-so-kindly dismissed his tailor – and very nearly had him not only fired, but banished – the door opened and his younger brother walked through, smiling like the sun was shining out of his arse.

'You look rather fetching, brother,' Orym said.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

'Must there be a reason to visit my favourite sibling?'

'You must when you've got that look on your face.'

'What look?'

'That look. Like you're constipated.'

'Well, I might genuinely be constipated. It would have been quite insensitive of you to call me out on it.'

'How rude of me. You have my dearest sympathies.'

'Thank you, it means a lot.'

Forven smiled wrily. He could see right through his little brother.

'Why are you here?'

The smile fell from Orym's face. He bit his lip for a moment, as if trying to find the right words, but then said: 'you need to talk to Alre.'

The smile also fell from Forven's. 'There we go again.'

He took of the jacket he had been getting fitted for and sat down on a chair, purposefully not looking Orym in the eyes. He heard his brother letting out an exasparated sigh.

'Forven. You need to talk.'

'What do you know?' Forven spat.

'Nothing, alright? Why do you think that is? You haven't spoken a word about it, you know? That you got shot? No one knows anything about what you're feeling because you're probably terrified of being that vulnerable with someone. And I get it, okay? I get it. I don't care if you don't talk to me. But talk to him. You can't lose him. I won't allow it.'