#|mention|

Agar: You’re fucking kidding me? Are you a virgin? Don’t know what fucking means? you don’t know penises? vaginas? boobs? Ass? The beauty of fornication? WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU LIVE AND WHO THE FUCK RAISED YOU?! NUNS!?

Its a nice dream…

He doesn’t have much to complain about, between not yet realising so, and it being some nice rest from a painfull waking existence. It is like one of those old days he spent with Braigon when not with his father. back upon some place lost within the sea of green that was his kingdom, away from the worries of royalty and free to act as he would enjoy. Be it messing with the other mages present, or simply taking a well deserved stroll, or rest by the music nature would gift him with, and lull his mind unto a small nap.

Except some new people were in.

One he has never seen, with a purple coat near Rhowën as they take seat and enjoy some drinks. Talking about something he can’t quite discern from the distance, or perhaps the noisy shennanigans of Agarwaenor’s pranks, driving a certain blonde woman over her edge. Then there is Thannor and that young man he’s taken to a liking, Fleur… both seem to be discussing passionately about something. With the copper haired man’s smile being as toothy as it could be. Something that made him glad he had given the guy a chance, it was… quite nice to see the grump smile again like that, it has been long since he’s seen the man look so lively around other people… well other than the rare few times around them when he’s willing to loosen up enough, without some drink in between. Quite a long time indeed.

His head turns then, towards the old stag resting, or perhaps awaiting. It turns its eyes on his direction, before lowering its head as a gesture of invitation. Guess taking a stroll this time it was.

It was nice that over the year it had grown big enough to be mounted, he had been yearning to do so since he saw Agar with Morn. Horses were a nice thing and all, but… ridding a big white stag? Or black one? It wasn’t an usual sight since centuries, and often was spoken as a good omen to rid one. Of course he would like to ride one, he’d be dumb if he didn’t accept his blood brother’s offer then. More so leave the guy along with such a young, chance would be the other stag would get jelly. Like rider like mount, both quite needy if you ask him.

He prepares the seat carefully, although they seemed to have a more robust and ride-able body, he still worried his type of stag wasn’t as born for the activity, and prepared the equipment as accordingly. Before finally taking seat. 

He’s surprised, however, as soft hands stroke his pelvis gently. Not in a manner Gil would, but certainly they were of a woman. Then in comes a whisper, followed by the resting of a head on his back. He doesn’t recognize it, but her voice gives a sense of peace to him, of ease hard to describe. He smiles and returns a smug reply, before letting a hand move towards hers. Lifting it gently to place a single kiss. Then pats his compation to settle in their little stroll…

Not without something disrupting the mood, however, as said former smith apprentice manages to embarrass him from affar. Something that earns both a protest from him and his magic, with some smoke leaving his ears and nostrils. While the woman behind him laughs then reasures him… He protests a little, but the kiss by his neck is enough to melt it away, then leans his head on hers.

It is just a dream, she ways…

And thats when he awakes. Alone, in the hard rock of the cave. Eyes staring upwards as sighs. He supposed he can’t complain much on the dream, it was a nice break from reality. And yet… He can’t help but feel a painfull longing for the feelings, the emotions and things within it. Before the longing is replaced, and left as a meaningless hollow sentiment. No… he probably would never get that life himself. The best he can imagine is being a lonely rule, until he leaves the throne to someone else, with many out for his throat and many who’d follow in fear; the ones willing to stand by his side slowly dying of age, or by defending their kingdom. Both the smith and judge growing alienated from the skeleton and that boy, broken and slowly drifting away as hurt likely drives them so. If they weren’t drived man before they could achieve anything.

He shakes his head, no… no use in longing for things that likely wouldn’t be. If anything they are just means to depress himself, something that wouldn’t be usefull for anyone. It would mean more work on the others, both by what he doesn’t do, and by what others would have to just get him off it. No, there was no time for that, nor for mourning what can’t be had. He had ensure the wrong of his bloodline was rectified, to both his people and him.

Right now, however, he’s tired. And he can still feel a lot of pain in his drowsy state. So he closes his eyes. Hoping the next dream doesn’t leave him a bitter taste in his mouth.

“ I’m honored and all, really I am... but... please. “

“ ... “

“ Will go and kill some idiots... will at least numb it a little, and shut the fuckin pain fer a while, and distract me... Could use a distraction, and entertainment. Might invite Rho to it... “

“ ... “

“ Don’t want to humor those, can’t humor those... “