Disclaimer: Not mine, never mine!
Shounen-ai… unsurprisingly. A tiny bit of situation comedy… I think.
A young King Arslan worries about his advisers…
Arslan watched the courtiers filling the grand hall, some dancing, others talking, simply enjoying the festivities in honour of Misra. Around him the court was filled with music and laughter. The desolation that the kingdom had lain in, under Hermes’ rule long gone. Now he had other worries…
Arslan was truly thankful for all the diplomatic skills that Narsus had forced upon him, when yet another ageing Lord with daughter, presented himself. He made small talk with the Lord and even smiled at the timid girl, hiding in her father’s shadow. Letting the noble talk, he found his gaze drifting over the throng, searching out his friends.
The young King’s gaze settled on Elam, stood by one of the food tables, surrounded by admiring girls. Elam seemed to be strangely capable of holding conversation will all of them without neglecting any. And then there it was, that patented smile, utterly charming; a perfect copy of Narsus.
Arslan found himself searching for the strategist and of course, there he was, surrounded by his own little entourage. A woman hanging off one arm and a few others in dispersed around him, among his male admirers. The woman at his side, leaned over to whisper something in his ear and Narsus appeared to politely excuse himself before slipping an arm round the woman and disappearing off in the direction of the gardens.
The noble in front of Arslan had stopped talking. Arslan smiled politely and nodded in dismissal. He glanced around hoping that, being the sixth eligible young maid presented to him this evening, she would be the last. Unfortunately, this was not to be. Another noble with another daughter was approaching. He smiled again, politely.
This time looking out across the room he spied Pharangase debating some topic intensely with Quishward. Their debate appeared to be bordering on argument when suddenly the older General started laughing and the Priestess was surprisingly smiling brightly at him.
Gaze slipping to a familiar redhead standing a little way from the Priestess, Arslan was forced to put a hand over his mouth to stop his laughter at Gieve’s puzzled look. The minstrel had been looking almost jealous earlier, though now his predominant expression was confusion.
Arslan was beginning to wonder what was going on there. After all, the Priestess had been spending a lot of time with Quishward lately.
The presentation of the latest maid over, Arslan was left a few moments peace as he sat on his throne. And then, just when he was thinking that he needed to escape the court celebrations, suddenly Daryoon was at his side, asking if the King might wish to take a breath of fresh air in the gardens. Arslan smiled gratefully. Duty often called for him to smile a lot but this time it was genuine. Gracefully rising from his throne he made his way out into the gardens, escorted by his Champion.
The walked for a little while in comfortable silence Arslan stretching stiff limbs, cramped from sitting still for so long. Arslan turned to regard his General, about to speak, only to find Daryoon distractedly looking off to the left. Arslan turned his gaze to follow Daryoon’s. He bit back a startled gasp. Not several paces away from them sat on a stone bench were Narsus and his paramour for the evening. Neither noticed the started King or his silent General. The woman was leaning against Narsus while he held her in his arms. She turned her head to rest against his shoulder, murmuring something. He made some reply as he continued to stroke her hair.
Arslan quickly turned to leave, relieved to hear Daryoon following him. He was shocked beyond words that Narsus might actually… actually… Arslan couldn’t really put it into words. Of course he’d suspected that something was wrong. Everyone had. It was the silence that had begun to grow, the minimal contact that could be seen, the way things were continuing without words ever passing between Daryoon and Narsus. Arslan suspected but hadn’t been certain but now… Surely he had all the proof that he might ever need. Stopping on the path back to the hall, Arslan turned to face Daryoon, unsure of what comfort he could offer. His General regarded him steadly,
“Is something the matter, Majesty?” Daryoon’s voice was unwavering.
“I… I was about to ask you something similar, Daryoon.”
Daryoon looked faintly bemused “Not at all, Majesty.”
“Daryoon…” Arslan didn’t trust this apparent calm.
Seeing Arslan’s look Daryoon reconsidered his answer. “I suppose I have been a little tired lately.”
“Tired?”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Oh.” Was all the King said. He patted Daryoon’s arm comfortingly.
Much later, after the evening’s festivities had ended and most respectable courtiers had retired to bed, Daryoon lay away in his chambers. He lay on his back, hands behind his head, staring at nothing in the darkness, serene appearance only disturbed by a slight frown that kept returning everything Daryoon tried to figure out what was wrong with the King. He was still awake and frowning when, in the few hours left before dawn, Narsus climbed into bed.
“You didn’t have to wait up for me.” Narsus whispered softly.
“I wasn’t.” Daryoon replied as Narsus settled comfortably into his arms.
An indignant ‘huff’ was Narsus response.
Daryoon smiled in the darkness, moving to press a gentle kiss to his beloved’s lips. They lay in silence, exhaustion and contentment warring.
Narsus yawned, “So, what were you frowning at?”
“Ah…”
“Hmm?”
“Have you noticed anything wrong with the King lately?”
“Nope.”
Daryoon felt the flutter of Narsus’ long lashes as his eyes closed.
“Narsus?”
“Hmm…”
“I think there might be something bothering him.”
“Such as?”
“I don’t know, he asked me if everything was well tonight.”
“That’s hardly out of the ordinary, he is King after all.”
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was more of a personal question, nothing to do with the kingdom at all.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Daryoon remained silent. He could just hear the faint snoring starting up beside him when another thought occurred to him, “Narsus?”
“Mumph?”
“What was that about this evening?”
“Don’t know. Ask tomorrow.”
“Not the King. Your cousin.”
“Oh, that. Some of her friends were trying to get her drunk again and you know she doesn’t really drink…”
“Did she get sick?”
“No. But she was feeling a little flushed. We spent most of the evening outside.”
“She’s better now though?”
“Yes, she’ll be fine but I think I’d better go have ‘words’ with some of her friends.”
“Words?” Daryoon laughed sleepily.
“Yes. Sharp, pointy ones.”
“Those sort of words…” Daryoon yawned, aware that the soft snoring had started again. He still didn’t have any idea what was wrong with the King. But he supposed both he and Narsus had been so busy lately, they barely spoke to each other during the day… Not that their relationship suffered. Daryoon thought that they were managing quite well without words.
Still, there was something wrong with Arslan that needed to be seen to… Daryoon’s train of thought cut off as his eyes closed and he fell asleep with his nose buried in Narsus’ hair.
Ooh, a small snippet as a return to Arslan Senki fics.
Call it an antidote to writing Matrix fics and suddenly finding that I appear to be trying to turn Agents Smith and Brown, into Daryoon and Narsus, respectively. Maybe it’s also a reaction to trying to take all my ECDL (I think it’s the ICDL outside Europe) tests in one day… madness!
22:19, 03/05/02
Narsus