#alengelo

By the Saints, if Damien were here, maybe he could give Angelo a lesson in becoming more thoughtful and serene. Angelo always thought that Damien took the whole thinking thing a little too far so that it turned mostly into overthinking, but perhaps if combined, their two traits could become something powerful.

"I didn't know you could play the lute, Miss Quanyii", Olala says from where she sits by the fire, her tail swishing behind her excitedly as she listens to the jaunty tunes Quanyii is playing for them as they finish dinner.

"Olala, I'll have you know I possess many artistic talents", Quanyii says, looking pleased with herself. Olala makes a little, impressed ooo-sound.

Caroline snorts.

"Don't get her started or she'll play the harmonica next", Caroline grumbles.

"What's the harmo—"

"Olala!"

"I'm sorry, Ser Caroline. I never learned to play a musical instrument and so I'm curious about these things."

"Well, let me tell you that you don't have to learn the harmonica and especially not from Quanyii", Caroline assures her.

"Babe, stop being mean to me! You never let me practice!"

Angelo lets the conversation wash over him because he gets distracted by Ale tapping his foot to the sound of the melody while he finishes the rest of his fried fish. There rarely was any dancing in the back in the Second Citadel, but while Angelo still lived with his family he used to dance with his sisters and mother all the time. As he watches the rhythmic tapping of Ale’s foot he wonders if Ale likes dancing. His movements during combat suggest that he is an excellent athlete as well as extremely elegant.

And because Angelo is who he is and once a thought has entered his mind it’s already too late to stop anything, he gets up and steps over to where Ale sits on the ground.

“May I have this dance?”, he asks.

Ale looks up at him, his beautiful face illuminated by the flickering light of their campfire. Quanyii makes a sound that turns Angelo’s cheeks into a color somewhat akin to tomato sauce and Olala claps her hand in excitement. Blessed be Ser Caroline who only rolls her eyes because she doesn’t care for any emotional outbreaks that don’t involve shouting at people.

“Didn’t know you could dance, schoolboy”, Ale says and reaches his hand out to grab Angelo’s and allow him to pull Ale up into a standing position. All of a sudden Angelo is unsure—he only ever danced with women before. Who leads now that he’s about to dance with another man? Will Ale be insulted if Angelo tries to lead? Will this suggest that Angelo doesn’t take him seriously? Will—

“Relax, alright?”, Ale says with a chuckle. He must have seen something in Angelo’s expression because his shakes his head in a way that seems almost endeared. “I’m alright with you leading.”

Angelo lets out a sigh and nods, suddenly feeling very shaky in the knees and fuzzy in the belly. He could swear that Quanyii slows her song down, which makes him sweat nervously. But Ale looks up at him with a quirked eyebrow and a smile that is half amused and half something that Angelo cannot place. He takes Ale’s hand into his and places one hand on Ale’s hip before starting to turn him around.

Around the fire they twirl and step, Ale following his lead which makes Angelo feel all sorts of things. For an irrational moment he wishes this moment could last forever, that they could turn and twirl around this campfire until the end of all days without having to worry about evil magics and murderous deserters and the bad that is in this world.

Angelo’s heart far surpasses the beat of the music in speed as he turns Ale around and then turns him again and Ale laughs a little breathless laugh that makes Angelo’s heart stumble and his soul soar. Ale is happy. He is having fun. When Ale raises his one arm to twirl Angelo around Angelo can feel his face blush even more and a smile breaks over his face—a wild, reckless and joyous thing that he can feel reverberate through his entire body and soul.

“You are as excellent a dancer as you are a fighter”, Angelo says and his voice sounds as if he’s been shouting drills at new recruits for five hours.

Ale laughs.

“Thanks, schoolboy. So are you. Always good for a surprise”, he answers with a twinkle in his eye. Angelo has the sudden need to stand up as straight as he can and put a fist onto his chest. As the music comes to a halt Angelo turns Ale one last time and then steps back without letting go of his hand. His mind is filled with warmth and happiness and the second the thought of kissing Ale enters his brain, it was already too late to stop the impulse.

He leans down and lifts Ale’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the soft, dark skin on the back of Ale’s hand. When he looks up Ale’s eyes are bright and his lips are slightly parted. Angelo thinks he really must be the strongest knight in the Citadel to be able to withstand the impulse to kiss Ale firmly on the mouth.

“Thank you for indulging me, Ale”, he says and only reluctantly lets go of Ale’s hand. There is a pause during which Ale seems to consider something and before Angelo can start getting nervous again—truly, nothing has ever gotten him nervous until he met Ale—Ale reaches down to take one of Angelo’s hands in his.

Angelo is pretty sure that his soul leaves his body the moment that Ale’s lips, warm and soft and a little dry, press against the back of his hand. For more than one insane second Angelo thinks that he might never bathe again just to preserve the tingling feeling on his hand. When Ale pulls back and lets go of his hand he throws him another one of his lopsided smiles.

“Next time you let me lead”, he says. Angelo swallows three times before he finds his voice.

“That sounds like an excellent deal.”

 Angelo pauses for a second. It was brought to his attention many times now that the distinctions between men and women he has learned about all his life might not actually be as accurate as many people make them out to be. Truly, Caroline is the best example. And now he has met Ale and Miss Quanyii, who is sometimes not Miss Quanyii but Mr Quanyii.

 Angelo considers Caroline’s words.

 “So you’re saying I should court Ale in the exact same way I would court a woman”, he says.

 Caroline rolls her eyes.

 “I do not see how gender has anything to do with this, Angelo. The way you court a person depends on the person. Not all women care for flowers and candles and love letters. I have no idea what Ale would prefer as courting; maybe he doesn’t want to be courted at all.”

 “Like Sir Talfryn, yes. I have learned about this. You are correct, Caroline and I am glad to have asked you. I shall speak to Ale about this to make sure that I am not overstepping any boundaries! I thank you for your wisdom! Hophophophophophop.”

 *

 Angelo is not afraid of anything.

 He’s not afraid of pain or fighting or dying or even things as complicated as numbers even though he is not very good at them. But when he finds Ale sitting next to Olala, showing her how to start a campfire with her little hands, something tightens in Angelo’s chest and all he can do is stare.

 Ale is beautiful. Dark skin, long hair, big eyes and long lashes, a soft smile as he tells little Olala that she’s doing well.

 Angelo feels his stomach drop; a sensation that is very similar to falling and his heart beats so rapidly in his chest that he has trouble breathing for a moment.

 Maybe he should have rehearsed this. Maybe it would be better if little Olala was not there with Ale. Maybe he was hasty when he concluded that speaking directly to Ale would be the best course of action. A warrior’s approach. Head on. The same way he always approaches difficulties.

 Ale looks up when he notices Angelo and he flashes him a grin that makes Angelo’s insides squirm around like very lively snakes. Saints, if he starts using more metaphors for how Ale makes him feel he might turn into Damien before he knows it.

 “Hey schoolboy, what can we do for you?”

 Angelo isn’t sure why it makes him feel warm and tingly when Ale calls him ‘schoolboy’, but it absolutely does.

 He clears his throat.

 “I was about to—hm. Well.”

 Angelo wishes Damien were here so he could tell him how to find the right words for this. Damien has such a knack for language and beautiful words, while Angelo—well. Angelo has never in his life understood one poem that Damien showed to him.

 “We’re making fire, Sir Angelo! I made a small flame, all without magic! Look!”, Olala proclaims excitedly and waves at the little wisp of smoke her efforts have conjured.

 “Very good, Olala. I—uh. I must take my leave.”

 And for the first time in his life, Sir Angelo The Strong turns around and flees.

 *

 “Aw, Angelo, what is it?”

 Angelo looks up as Quanyii appears out of nowhere right beside him.

 “I am afraid that I have become a coward, Miss Quanyii”, he says as he looks down at his big hands.

 “I highly doubt that, sweetie. Is this about our beautiful vigilante boy?”, Quanyii wants to know as she scoots closer to Angelo, her colorful hair surrounding her head like a cloud.

 “Yes. I have spoken to Si—to Caroline about this and she gave me important insight on the matter of courting rituals.”

“She did?”, Quanyii asks, sounding surprised.

 “Yes. She explained that courting is not a matter of gender but of the individual’s personality. She also pointed out that Ale might have no interest in romantic relationships which I had not considered before.”

 Quanyii puts her index finger to her lips and taps them thoughtfully.

 “Yes, yes, such wisdom. But have you considered asking me about this? Romance is a magical thing after all and sweetheart, I’m a witch! Caroline doesn’t know one itsy-bitsy thing about romance, let me tell you that”, Quanyii says and pouts a little.

 Angelo raises his head.

 “So you would help me in this quest to court Ale?”, he asks. The grin that spreads on Quanyii’s face makes Angelo pause. This might not be a good idea.

 “Oh, sweetie, don’t you worry your silly little head. I will give you one tip for free because we have become such good friends during those past few weeks! I know a little secret and that is that Ale does like romance!”

 Angelo feels his face light up with a smile as relief courses through his entire body. He feels like he could do a hundred push-ups right here and now. Maybe even lift Porthos. Or the whole, fallen tree he’s sitting on.

 “Why thank you, Miss Quanyii, that is most helpful!”

 He grabs both of her hands and shakes them as Quanyii giggles.

“You are so very welcome, Angelo. For every other piece of help I’m going to require a little bit of payment. A witch has to make do, you know.”

 Angelo doesn’t really understand but he nods anyway and gets up from the fallen tree trunk.

 “I do not believe that I will need further assistance, now that the issue of romantic attraction has been resolved! Sir Angelo The Strong is back on his feet! Ha ha! Hophophophophophop.”

 “Good luck, brave knight!”, Quanyii calls after him as Angelo runs back towards the camp.

 *

 Now that Angelo knows that Ale is not generally opposed to romance the path seems clear. That is, at least until Angelo arrives back at the place where Ale and Olala made their little fire before.

 The two of them are still there, but both of them are asleep. Ale is sitting with his back against a tree, his legs spread, and Olala has curled up between his legs, her tail gently snoring. Caroline sits by the fire and sharpens her blade.

 She looks up as Angelo enters the clearing.

 “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Angelo”, she says as Angelo stares at Ale’s sleeping form. His long lashes are feathered out on his cheeks and for a second Angelo imagines to brush his fingers over Ale’s cheek and give him a kiss.

 The thought immediately sends his heart into another gallop that would make Porthos proud and Angelo swallows heavily.

 “I cannot report any ghost sightings at this point, Sir—I mean. Caroline.”

 Angelo notices how Caroline’s eyes narrow as she looks him up and down and since Caroline has stated that she has no interest to know anything about Angelo’s love life he tries very hard to respect her wishes and to not look at Ale as if he’s the most beautiful thing that Angelo has ever seen.

 Which he very definitely is.

 “Oh for fuck’s sake, sit down, you oaf”, Caroline snaps and Angelo, still as an automatic response to her authoritative voice, walks over to the fire and sits down next to her.

 “Did you talk to Quanyii?”, she wants to know.

 “Yes. She cleared up a question I had and I thought it would make things easier, but as it turns out, it did not.”

 “I wouldn’t make any deals with her, witches are fickle and cunning creatures.”

 “Babe, you’re being so mean!”

 “Oh, shut it. You know it’s true.”

 “Yes, but when you say it like that it’s mean, mean, mean!”

 Angelo watches them bicker for a while before his eyes drift back over to Ale and Olala. Ale’s hand is resting on Olala’s back and Angelo looks at it for a while. Ale’s hand is much smaller than his and Angelo wonders what it would feel like to hold it. It must be rough from all the sword-fighting, much like Angelo’s hand.

 Maybe Ale doesn’t have any interest in holding Angelo’s hand. Maybe Ale doesn’t like men.

 “What is it now, Angelo”, Caroline asks with an expression on her face that says she might regret asking.

 “I forgot to consider another important thing regarding this whole courting business”, Angelo says and looks at Caroline. Quanyii seems to have vanished into thin air—something Angelo has seen happening multiple times during those last few weeks.

 “Which is?”

 “You made me aware of the possibility of Ale being averse to romantic relationships, but I forgot to consider whether or not Ale would be opposed to romantic relationships to men. I only ever knew one man who liked another man. Lizard. Does it count as a man if it is a lizard? I certainly don’t know. My point stands, though.”

 Caroline sighs deeply and cards through her short her.

 “It seems highly unlike you to ask all these questions instead of simply acting, Angelo”, she says and looks at him with a stern gaze.

 Angelo sighs.

 “Yes, I know. I am afraid I have found my most lethal opponent yet! Matters of the heart! No monster could ever best me in combat, but my own heart is betraying me.”

 Caroline puts her blade to the side and leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she looks at Angelo with her piercing eyes.

 “Just talk to him. It’s that easy. No one can ever truly know another person’s heart or thoughts unless they speak them out loud.”

 “Unless you’re a witch”, comes a disembodied sing-song from somewhere above them.

 “Unless you’re a witch in which case you should stay out of people’s heads”, Caroline barks up the tree and looks back at Angelo.

 “I cannot believe that I should turn into a coward for something as simple as talking. It seems highly ridiculous.”

 Caroline shrugs.

 “Emotions are hard. And I... understand your hesitance. But you should not let your feelings rule over your rational thoughts.”

 “That is a very Caroline thing to say, Sir Caroline.”

 “Stop calling me ‘Sir’ already!”

 “Certainly, Sir Caroline.”

 “Ugh.”

 *

 “Ale, can I ask you a personal question?”

 “You can ask anything you want, schoolboy. I can decide whether or not I want to answer.”

 “Oh—yes. That is very reasonable. Thank you. Uh—“

 “Sir knight, are you alright? Did you get sunburnt? Sir Caroline says it is important to not stay outside in the sun for too long!”

 “I am not sunburnt, little Olala.”

 “Ask your question, schoolboy. Is this about gender again?”

 “Uh—no. Not—huh. I suppose it is! But not in the way you think!”

 “Well then, shoot.”

 “This is more about the genders of others, I suppose! A potential paramour, one might say! I have a friend who has a fiancée but who is also involved with a man. Lizard. Male lizard? I am not entirely certain about the lizard’s gender and I was told not to assume. Anyway. What I wanted to ask—“

 “You want to know if I like lizards?”

 “No, that’s not—“

 “I was joking, schoolboy. Calm down. You want to know what kind of people I’m attracted to.”

 “Yes.”

 “I don’t much care about gender, but it doesn’t happen often that I’m attracted to people. Either romantically or sexually.”

 “Oh.”

 “I just don’t fall in love easily. And I don’t find many people hot.”

 “Hm.”

 “Any more questions?”

 “Yes, but I am afraid they would be borderline offensive and highly invasive.”

 “Well then. Let’s keep it at that, schoolboy.”

 *

 “Sir knight, are you feeling okay?”

 “Yes, little Olala.”

 “It’s just that you are usually very loud but you have been very quiet for a while. I recently learned about heatstrokes and it sounds awful and I hope you don’t have a heatstroke, Sir knight.”

 “I don’t think I have anything of the kind, Olala.”

 Olala sits down next to Angelo. He’s leaning against Porthos who’s lying down and nibbling on some grass. Ale and Caroline are investigating something and since Angelo is not the best at clues he offered to stay behind to guard their belongings and also Olala.

 “Most adults do not like to tell children why they’re sad. But if you wanted to, I would certainly listen.”

 “That’s very kind of you, Olala. Have you ever liked someone?”

 “Of course! I like so many people!”

 “Ah, yes. Hm. And were you ever scared to tell any of these people that you like them?”

 “No, Sir knight. I grew up in the Garden of Graves and we tended to the dead and my sisters always taught me that it is important to speak your heart while the people you love are alive, for you never know when they might die and then you can’t tell them anymore.”

 “That is... very wise, Olala.”

 “Thank you, Sir knight! My sisters taught me a great many things and I am honored to pass their wisdom on to others.”

 Angelo looks down at Olala’s small form and ruffles her hair.

 “I will take it to heart!”, he promises.

 *

 “Hey, Angelo. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

 They make camp by a river and Caroline takes Olala for a bath. Angelo turns around to look at Ale, who tied his long braids into a top knot. He’s wearing a white tunic that is a little too big for him and allows Angelo a view of Ale’s collarbone.

 Angelo tries very hard not to stare because he refuses to be disrespectful any more than he already was when they first met.

 “Of course, Ale.”

 Ale looks at him. Angelo would never trust himself to read people’s behavior—that has never been his forté. But he could swear that Ale looks almost a bit nervous; something that Angelo hasn’t seen on him so far.

 “So, remember that talk we had? About how I might like lizards or not?”, Ale begins and Angelo winces a little.

 “It was poorly worded and I apologize—“

 “It’s fine, Angelo. That’s not what this is about. But... you remember what I said. About not being attracted to people often?”

 “Yes. I remember.”

 “Why did you want to know that?”

 Angelo takes a deep breath and scratches the back of his head.

 “I—uh. Well”, he starts, then doesn’t know how to continue. He remembers the talks he had with Caroline and Olala and straightens his back. Sir Angelo the Strong will not back down from a challenge. Any challenge!

 “I would like to court you, Ale.”

 Ale blinks. Once, twice, three times.

 He opens his mouth, then closes it again.

 “You—what?”

 “Courting. I would like to court you. Woo you. Win you over. In the romantic sense. But I was not sure if that was something that would make you uncomfortable, so I tried to figure out if you might be opposed against courtship. By men. Or anyone.”

 Ale takes two steps towards him and Angelo has the great need to spread his arms and pull Ale close to him, but he doesn’t. He’s asking for permission and he will not ruin this by overstepping boundaries.

 A slight chuckle pulls him back to reality and he sees Ale’s eyes twinkle, the corners of his lips turned upwards.

 “Are you asking me on a date, schoolboy?”, Ale asks. His playful smile is doing things to Angelo he can’t describe because he is not Damien. But man, he almost feels the need to write a poem about that smile. That is how badly smitten he is with this wonderful, splendid man standing in front of him.

 “I suppose so! Ale, will you allow me to take you on a date?”

 Ale takes another step and raises his hand to softly flip one finger against Angelo’s forehead.