DOES THE UNIVERSE BLEED ?

“Your  secret’s  safe  with  me,  Ser.”  He  says  with  a  small  chuckle.  Varka's  fear  of  Jean  is  warranted  with  how  Durin  has  seen  Klee  scatter  at  the  sound  of  her  voice.  He's  come  to  learn  The  Dandelion  Knight  runs  a  tight  ship. 

Grand  Master  included. 

The  dragon  prince  steps  closer,  slow  at  first,  then  stopping  just  short  of  where  the  sunlight  spills  brightest,  like  he’s  not  entirely  sure  if  now  is  a  good  time  to  bring  up  what's  been  weighing  on  his  mind  since  Varka  seems  to  be  lounging.  He  wouldn't  want  to  distrub  him,  but  Durin  doesn't  think  he'll  have  another  chance. 

There’s  a  pause  as  Durin  finds  the  courage  to  speak  up.  He  shifts  his  weight,  gloved  fingers  brushing  idly  at  the  edge  of  his  sleeve.  It’s  a  small  tell  of  his  uncertainty,  rare  and  flickering.  His  eyes  drift  toward  the  horizon as  he  tries  to  muster  up  the  courage. 

“Ser,  about  your  offer,  the  one  you  made  to  me  in  Nod-Krai  . . . ” 

Durin  looks  back,  meeting  Varka's  gaze  again  and  holds  it,  firmer  and  guarded;  like  gripping  on  the  reigns  before  sprinting  forward  on  the  horse. 

“About  becoming  a  Favonius  Knight.  I  don't  think  that's  a  good  idea,  Ser.  I  will  have  to  respectfully  . . .  decline." 

Behind  him,  Durin's  tail  lowers,  slipping  out  of  sight  as  if  it  too  would  rather  not  be  seen.  There’s  no  bravado  in  him  now,  only  the  quiet  weight  of  hoping  he  hasn’t  broken  something  he  didn’t  mean  to  touch  because  Varka…

Varka  and  all  the  Knights  of  Favonius  feel  like  something  out  of  those  old  stories.  The  kind  of  stories  Durin's  mother  used  to  read  him  where  heroes  stood  tall,  laughed  loud,  and  made  the  world  seem  just  a  little  less  frightening. 

Durin  isn’t  sure  he  belongs  on  the  same  page  as  them. 

The  knights  have  lost  one  of  its  members  to  the  Abyss's  dark  shadow  before and  Durin  does  not  wish  to  become  the  second  knight  in  it's  history  if  one  day  he  does  loose  himself  and  lose  control  of  the  darkness  within his heart. 

This decision is  only  a  precaution. 

Precisely because of that, it becomes way too easy to note something's weighing down on the other. So Varka waits, he watches with demeanor unchanged in what might as well be him merely enjoying his sunlight, as he did prior to Durin's arrival. Out of respect, he doesn't anticipate the young boy's sentiments despite having the sinking feeling that it would lead them both to this moment, regardless of the Grand Master's best attempts to thwart it. Even so, he is not disappointed in Durin.

There's a moment of pure quiet that stretches briefly between them, one which purpose is to open room for breathing, letting go of the burden of having to say no and basking in the release of finally letting it out. Varka is not privy to the full extent of what Durin's heart guards, but he can parse enough to make sense of the underlying anxiety in that rejection.

❝ Come, sit with me for a bit. ❞ An invitation and a request in one, but never a command.

Varka moves to the side against the wall, his gaze lifted once again, and his hand rested over his knee, tapping idly and without rhythm. ❝ Choosing a direction isn’t easy, and I see you put real thought and heart into this decision. ❞ This alone shows moderation and focus, qualities Varka took his sweet time developing and that Durin, so early venturing into this world, displays. He could not be more hopeful for this kid.