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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But today is not that day, apparently. Since Roland will soon notice that his chosen strategy isn't quite working. Rather than Inigo going quiet or sleeping, there's actually a small whine coming from the boy, no matter how comfortable he currently is in both his father's bed and embrace.
"You're my father." An obvious statement, yes, but it's more a prelude to what follows it. "I like anything you do."
Such is the bias of family! But really, Inigo mostly just figures there's no way Roland would sound that bad. His voice is nice enough, so what gives?
And then, almost as if to shove the knife in - though it's hard to tell whether it's on purpose or not: ".. Are you embarrassed, father?"
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Eloquence is out the window, never to be seen again. The rubbing against Inigo's back ceases, and he has to look down at him entangled in his arms for him to actually blush and look away. If that's not the definition of embarrassment, then Roland doesn't know what is. But he doesn't mean to add meaning to Inigo's very correct assessment! He's just caught off-guard! And it's Inigo! His kid!
No amount of stoicism is going to pass his keen gaze. Not after he's read Roland so many times that he knows mannerisms by heart. There's no path left except to be honest.
Or try to, at least.
His legs shift under the covers.
"It's more of, I'm not even sure I even know any lullabies now." A beat. "Aren't you too old for those anyway, pup?"
GO TO SLEEP GOTOSLEEP GO TO SLEEP!!!
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the ladythe lord protests, the more pushback there's going to be. Since it's getting increasingly more obvious just how embarrassed Roland is getting over here, and that means Inigo now really wants to hear him sing it. How bad could it be! Maybe this time it's his dad who needs a confidence boost about doing something creative, compared to Inigo's usual dancing woes.So he wriggles against Roland in the other's hold, as if to show off that he's still very much awake, thanks. No going to sleep here until he's had his lullaby.
"Oh, come on! In that case you could say I'm technically too old for this too, you know." Cuddling in bed with his father - what teen Inigo's age would still voluntarily want to do that? And yet here he is, as comfortable as can be.
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He knows when to concede. Since when did Inigo get this good at catching Roland totally off-guard, totally at a loss for any sort of comeback that could save him? Too much training on the train, he feels like, even as they transcend lifetimes and worlds.
At first, Roland sighs, grows silent. His hand returns to gently caressing his back, fingers playing against the soft flannel of his shirt, eyes open staring at the darkness bathing the wall behind Inigo. And then, as if out of nowhere, his voice does tremble. Inigo would feel its vibrations against his cheek, where it rests against Roland's chest...a vibrato that's low and baritone, unsure of its notes, pitchy in places, definitely unpracticed.
But for what his singing voice lacks in technical perfection, it makes up for it with earnest passion, an attempt to fulfill his end of the promise...and because Inigo is the one to ask him to sing. If there was anybody on this earth who could get Roland to do something that he wasn't sure of, didn't think to do or want, it would be his children. Two sons, who fills his broken life with healing love.
'Now I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?'
He swallows a bit, before singing again, nowhere near the melody, but it's a gentle lullaby nonetheless. At least, he makes it to sound like one, with the tone of his voice, the texture of his lilt.
'It goes like this, the fourth the fifth, the minor falls, the major lifts...the baffled king composing Hallelujah.'
He nuzzles against Inigo's hair, singing against it now, muffling his words, but he doesn't care at all. He sheds his shyness all at once, feeling the emotion flood his heart, knowing the weight in his arms is that of a home complete.
So what's a song to commemorate that, though he is far from the performer to do it justice?
'Hallelujah...Hallelujah...Hallelujah...Hallelujah.'
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But as Inigo lies there in wait, he can slowly feel it. The rumble in Roland's chest, first accompanied by a soft sound before it grows a bit louder. A song. One Inigo obviously doesn't recognize, as new as he still is to this world he's found himself in with his new family, but it doesn't matter one bit.
Because what matters is the sound itself. Just the sound of Roland's low soft tone, just the vibrations of his chest as Inigo still leans against it. All of it is nice and soothing regardless of what the sound is actually about. It's just about this - finding safety and warmth inside of his father's arms, soothed to sleep by his father's voice.
And it works. Inigo sure is listening at first, but as Roland keeps singing and eventually checks up on Inigo, he'll find that the boy has completely drifted off to sleep right then and there.
ooc;