a man for flowers ✿ ( INIGO ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flatteries) wrote2020-08-30 08:58 pm
flatteries) wrote2020-08-30 08:58 pm
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voidtreckerexpress in-game shenanigans but anything else will be appropriately labeled. leave a comment here, mostly for
voidtreckerexpress in-game shenanigans but anything else will be appropriately labeled.
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The other speaks of flower fields, and that's something Inigo would easily refute. Because he's left those behind so long ago. Like the flower fields he used to prosper in, the ones he played in every day as a very young child, were left behind in his heart the moment his mother died, the moment everything turned to ash and destruction. Ylisse was no longer a place for flowers, and so there no longer was any place left for them in Inigo's steeled heart either.
But it's not all Roland is talking about. Inigo hears the rest too, catches those last words.
It's those that make him look back at the other again. Because as much as Inigo would like to refute the words, feels like he must keep carrying this dark burden for everyone's sake..
.. he wants them to be true. He wants that to be it so badly. That he has a place to belong out there. With Roland.
"Can I really..?" His voice is a bit more quiet, only audible due to the stillness of the night.
And really, it's not the kind of question Roland should answer as much as Inigo should answer it for himself - but considering the older guy has filled up the position of his father so naturally, it comes like instinct to ask him that. Like he's asking for permission, for confirmation, only barely managing to surpress the desperation that wells up in his heart. Is it really alright for him to ever step back, to no longer carry the burdens of the entire multiverse on his back?
Despite what he said a moment ago, he wants better times. So badly. And more importantly, he wants better times together with Roland. Both of them being able to be happy, rather than stand here on a dark planet in front of a funeral mound without a body.
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Yet here he is, unable to stop himself from answering Inigo with his bleeding heart, wanting it for everyone he's ever cared for even if he knows he can't guarantee a thing.
"Yes. You can." There's not a hint of hesitation in that breath of an answer, not as he stares into his eyes and resists the urge to comfort him with the language he knows best, arms around him to warm him from the outside in. But tonight, perhaps such a gesture would do Roland more good than Inigo. Still, he remains planted where he is, with only a pivot to face him fully. "I hope one day you can believe it as much as I do. Take your time. I'll wait for you. Okay?"
His smile lifts from one corner, small yet fond all the same. Long has Inigo told him he doesn't think he deserves such an ending, or a future where he can be happy with all the things he's had to do to survive, but he's a hero more than Roland ever will be. His decision to end his own timeline so that the past can grow in peace leaves him in admiration to this day; yes, Inigo is the most deserving of a future on his own terms. Once and for all. Happiness, because it is the only reward befitting of sacrifice.
May the good captain's spirit be the final witness to Roland's resolve to take them with him no matter where he might be flung to next.
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Slowly Inigo's gaze moves back over to the rocks with the sign. Still quiet, still thinking.
His gaze turns to Roland.
"Do you.. want to stay here for a bit longer?" The choice is up to him. Roland was the one who wanted to come out here in the first place, after all. Inigo will stay here with him for as long as the other needs. "Or do you want to go back?"
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Roland opens his eyes once more, and he salutes solemnly, the straight of his hand reaching the top of his brow. Afterwards, he turns back to Inigo, tired lines marking a face that had no business looking as old as he feels or actually is. But he's still trying, bridging the gap and reaching out for him with fingers splayed gently. Roland jerks his head backwards, softly.
"Come on. We gotta go." And perhaps he means that in more ways than one. But whether or not Inigo actually takes that hand or not, or if he tugs him forward back into the thick of trees and jungle, Roland will stop him for a minute, his gaze heavy. "Can you just do me one more favor? If it's not too much to ask?"
If in other days he would have reacted differently, perhaps as shy as a man like him would ever allow someone else to see, regardless if it's Inigo, tonight he was not quite that person. Roland's smile is an attempt all on its own, far from happy, just searching for sympathies he knows he doesn't deserve.
"Is it all right if I can sleep by your side, tonight?"
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But if Roland wants to go, then they should go. He can't let the man linger here for too long, after all. Inigo knows what happens when you spend time here for too long. When you're constantly surrounded by death, by having to pay the last respects to people you've hardly even known. It slowly kills your heart. And Roland - he's so kind. So loving. He has it in him to love an entire nation, and Inigo couldn't stand seeing that be ruined.
But he stops tugging when the other speaks up. Stops walking, even. Inigo freezes on the spot, only turning his head back to look in the other's direction.
Hearing a request he didn't expect.
".. of course."
Inigo wonders why his throat suddenly feels so tight. Why it's suddenly harder to speak than it was a few moments ago, even though they were building something as heavy as a funeral mound back there.
"Anytime. Please, father. Whenever you need it, come to me. Don't hide away thinking you shouldn't bother me, or that you don't deserve it, or-- or whatever you're thinking." It's not like Inigo can precisely tell, after all. But no excuse is a good excuse to stay away in his mind.
"Please seek any and all comfort you need from me. That's what I'm your son for."
To support him too. Especially during the moments things get too hard for Roland. Inigo may be younger, but he's more weathered than he seems. He can carry it.
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That not even the title of 'son' can exist in his heart without it amounting to a worth that's neither a requirement nor is what Roland truly asks of him. Even tonight, he turns something off without prompting. He transforms himself into a gravedigger like he's done it more times than he can count; and Roland knows he has. How could he keep up is own farce, his own defenses at the face of such painful realizations?
The arms that wrap themselves around Inigo find shelter against the breadth of his back, reaching his arms, tucking his head close.
"You're my son because you're loved." Not for any grand purpose, not for the utility of being there to comfort when it's convenient, not because Roland sees him as a companion to his own grief despite his place by his side that fits such a space. His hug tightens for a second before he lets go, draws back and looks at him straight in the eye. There it is again; the shine of a Brand that tells him what to look for in a crowd, or in a world far flung should that be the fate that comes to pass for them all.
A better fate, hopefully. One he has promised him. One he wishes for with all his heart.
"I'll do my best to confide, but don't be mistaken about that, okay?" Roland removes himself completely from his proximity, before drawing out the hookshot, ready to make the return trip to camp.
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It's not like Inigo has never experienced it before. He had a very, very loving mother, after all, who made sure to spend her every waking moment reassuring him that he was very much loved by her. But what Roland is thinking about Inigo is true. He's so inclined to put himself into some position of servitude, always thinking first about how he can help, whether his caring and love can improve things in any given situation.
So much so that he sometimes forgets it's that easy. That someone can care deeply about him, just because they do. Without anything being necessary in exchange.
Remembering how they got here, Inigo hurriedly moves to cling to Roland again so he can use the hookshot to get them back--
-- and also so he can bury his head against the man. Trying to cope with the overwhelming thought, especially after having to slip into an all-business mode earlier that he hasn't used in a while. Because you're loved.
"L-Let's hurry back," is all he can say.
Even if Roland is the one who made the request, it's for sure that the cuddles while sleeping will be mutually necessary.
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He's done his duty. Hasn't he?
"Thank you." He whispers solemnly, one last time. The depth of his gratitude can't be contained in just his words alone, but he hopes he will continue to receive chances to show it more appropriately; as they deserve to be expressed for a soul as kind as Inigo.
He turns his head to the sky, looking for a branch as he did before. The hookshot meets its target, and the cycle of travel begins anew, with but one notable difference. Inigo is held so much closer to Roland, no gap to exist between them as they travel from tree to tree, no more pausing to adjust. He knows precisely where they need to go, and he knows Inigo will never let him go.
And neither will he.