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[flatteries]

leave a comment here, mostly for voidtreckerexpress in-game shenanigans but anything else will be appropriately labeled.

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[adregem]

He looks back at the funeral mound in heavy silence. Eyes draw to a close as he recites something quietly, words only spoken inwardly. If he could, he would whisper his gratitude, and that he hopes wherever void souls go, they go to places of peace and rest. No more tethering, no more crafts or ministries to run away. No more disappearing as if they had never been born. Only happiness, and home.

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?"

[flatteries]

Inigo was, in fact, in the middle of that. Sure, he's waiting until Roland is sure he wants to go. He'd never drag the man away prematurely from something that's obviously so important to him, even though it's a very heavy thing.

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.

[adregem]

There's no more offered resistance when Roland steps forth, drawing Inigo close, an embrace that binds him to the boy who once cried for him as he bled on the train floor. The boy who once hid injuries that peppered young hands so that no one would have to worry needlessly over him; so that he could continue to smile even when it already hurt. Since then, it's grown more evident that Inigo is the type of person to care so much that nothing will be left for him by design. He would pour himself empty and he's convinced that must be the way of things.

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.

[flatteries]

Because you're loved.

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.

[adregem]

He wraps an arm around Inigo tight and snug, giving himself a moment to lean down his head in an affection no longer unbecoming of a person like him. Tenderness that overflows from a bruised heart, and Roland would rather stay like this for longer than to look back at the mound that has laid a soul to rest.

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.