TW: stage fright
We did not, in fact, do the hanky panky or any variation of the form when we returned to the bounty.
Why? Because Lloyd said one sentence when we settled on the deck; "I need to tell my father about the Sons of Garmadon's plans" and suddenly any sense of lighthearted, touchy-feely, please-god-bite-me had disappeared in an instant. Fear returned in its place, and a chill had taken home in my abdomen.
Because, right. He was in danger. We were all in danger. This was a dangerous situation and I should really stop thinking about Lloyd's fangs or about how long it's been since we've had a good make out session.
"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked when Bentley disappeared. It was nearing on the dead of night, and it was freezing in the shadows of Hollow's Bluff. Jay had already gone inside, seeking warmth and I would've had half a mind to join him if it weren't for the look on my lover's face.
Lloyd seemed as if he was going to say no but thought better of it, and nodded.
"He might need you," Lloyd murmured, taking my hands in his and knitting our fingers. The night breeze shuffled through his blond hair and his dark brows bunched as he stared at our intertwined hands. "And I... I need you. I took it pretty bad, but I have no idea how dad will take this." He sighed and closed his eyes. His lashes brushed his cheeks and glinted in the moonlight. "People treat him... people treat him much worse than they treat me."
I smiled sadly at the painful look on Lloyd's face. He loved his father so much, and telling Garm something as life changing as being a by-product of an oni-dragon union of hate must've been terrifying for him. I would never let him conquer something like that alone.
I squeezed his hands and kissed his knuckles.
"I'm with you," I whispered.
Lloyd raised his gaze to mine. Grateful burgundy swallowed the green of his irises; a slow, cascading warmth that dripped outward from the darkness of his pupil. The sight of it never failed to make me catch my breath.
"Thank you, my sunlight."
People were still awake when we entered the bridge - unsurprising, even though given the time; the team rarely slept while on missions, or kept any semblance of a normal schedule as is.
Kai, Nya and Harumi were quietly sitting at the table, with the siblings engrossed in a game of tabletop rugby and the Princess contently reading a book.
My book, I suddenly realised with a vehement twist of annoyance. My hand tightened in Lloyd's.
It's okay. It's okay. It's fine.
I hoped that she got one of the others to grab it, rather than entering Lloyd's and my room herself. There was something that just felt so inherently wrong about the thought of her entering our room, our safe space, and rifling through our stuff while I wasn't there.
Garmadon was already turning to greet us as we slipped through the entrance, Jay beside him as he hesitantly waited for the debrief to the Sensei. Lloyd still had that troubled expression on his face, and I mustered an impassive look onto mine, less the pinch of anger towards the poor princess who really didn't deserve my rage made itself known.
"Dad," Lloyd said, and I noticed that his voice caught hollowly on the last consonant; the only thing privy to his breakdown just a few hours prior - his steel guard eyes gave away nothing. Harumi glanced up from Wuthering Heights, soft hazel gaze hovering on the side of Lloyd's face. "Can we talk?"
Garmadon straightened, frown hardening. He gave a single, firm nod, and we followed him out of the bridge and towards the quarters. Jay sighed in audible relief and retreated to take the seat next to Nya.
Garmadon's room in the bounty was much like the others; barebones with a bed, dresser and a couple of extra storage crates that the hull couldn't hold. Splashes of his personality existed, however, in the fabric murals of ancient depictions of forests and temples that hung on the walls, in the gorgeous tea pot on the dresser that had retired from use and was instead employed to hold extra little knick knacks - pennies, buttons, pencils. It existed in the old, muted green rug that laid upon the floor, in the little bonsai tree on the bedside table that was still struggling to return to life, in the drawers full of cotton pants and shirts and the pile of abandoned lesson books that sat on the floor, gathering dust.
