fenrir and vasili bury the hatchet (dusko and vasili don't)
A quiet knock on the door.
Fenrir didn't stir, just kept staring out the window with tired eyes and no desire to see who now wanted his attention. The day had been long enough. Burying his wife had been hard enough. Dusko, sat in the corner silently like a statue, glanced first at the door and then at his liege when he didn't seem to react. Fenrir gave a curt nod, and Dusko rose to see who was waiting behind the door.
From his seat Fenrir didn't see who it was. But Dusko's grip tightening on the handle told him everything he needed to know.
"What do you want?", the bodyguard said in a low, decisively unfriendly tone, posture defensive. A low, firm voice answered, in a voice both knew but in a language neither did, at least anymore. A third voice chimed in, that of a younger person Fenrir didn't recognize.
"Prince regent would like to speak in private with your liege", it said. An interpreter. Dusko bowed his head a little, annoyance and shame evident, then glanced over at Fenrir who flicked his wrist dismissively.
"Let him in. You can wait outside the door", muttered he.
Dusko looked back at their guest, and without a word he opened the door proper, pushing himself through past Vasili, the two exchanging a rude clash of shoulders. Vasili seemed to let it slide. Fenrir gave his bodyguard's back a glance of disapproval.
It was an oddly casual moment. Fenrir knew he should have gotten up to greet Vasili and welcome him properly, offer him a drink and a seat. But he didn't feel like it. If he wasn't feeling as numb as he did, he might have been nervous - his experiences with the prince regent hadn't historically been positive.
But Vasili wasn't being very formal himself. He closed the door behind himself, gathered his cloak and took a few steps forward, moving almost hesitantly, like he himself was unsure what to do next.
"Might I sit?" he then asked.
Fenrir nodded. "Sorry. Do you want something to drink?" he then asked and Vasili shook his head as he took a chair nearby and scooted it a bit closer to Fenrir, sitting down. The interpreter stood aside quietly, but Fenrir nodded at her and she sat down on a loveseat nearby.
Vasili looked down for a second, bit his lip, then met the king's eyes. "How are you?" he asked.
For a moment Fenrir didn't say anything. He was trying to think if he had seen Vasili at the funeral, and came to the conclusion that he must have. He had a vague memory of exchanging words with Konoe, so it would have tracked that Vasili was there, too. Or not. Maybe. He didn't remember. The last however long it had been since Merope had died had been a complete blur.
"Doing kind of shit", he then admitted.
Vasili nodded silently. "I'm so, so sorry for your loss", he then said. "Merope was a remarkable woman. Kind, intelligent. She was made to be queen. Her loss will be felt for a long time."
"Thanks", Fenrir muttered. "Thank you", he then corrected. Vasili had clearly practiced his words carefully beforehand, enunciated as clearly as he could in a language he was nowhere near fluent in, and Fenrir appreciated it. Least he himself could do was to respond like a nobleman.
For a bit they sat in an awkward silence. Fenrir was on the defense, awaiting some kind of verbal spike, a jab like from his father once upon a time, but Vasili looked lost in thought, lips a thin line. Fenrir stared into nothing. He didn't want the prince regent there, he didn't know what to say or do, he felt the familiar anxiety rising the longer they went without talking.
It might have been the closest they had been physically since that one fateful night. Sure, they had been in the same room before, sat across a ballroom for an evening, or on the opposite sides of a tourney field, but speaking face to face? Fenrir didn't remember. They had avoided that chance as best they could for the past over half a century.
He found himself staring at the grooves on Vasili's face, the cracks filled with gold. He remembered so little of his life during that time, why did he remember that event so well? He had grabbed the man, he had beaten him unconscious and taken half his eyesight, he had ran home and hidden in his room until father had dragged him out by his hair and thrown him down the castle stairs. Why did he remember that of all things? He felt his hands tremble and he took a long, shaky breath.
"I-" he started. "You-" said Vasili, then both quieted.
"Sorry-" Fenrir began and Vasili shook his head.
"No, you go first. You go first," he said, even giving a slight, encouraging smile. Fenrir tried swallowing his anxiety down.
"I'm sorry for what I did to you", he said. "I fucked up."
Vasili nodded. "I accept", he said.
"I don't know why I did it."
"I should have apologized so long ago. I'm sorry."
"You are now. It is enough", Vasili said quietly, placing a hand on Fenrir's arm. "You are forgiven."
"I remember that night, too," the prince regent continued. Fenrir expected an elaboration, but Vasili seemed to change his mind, as he opened his mouth but then took a second to think. "You..." he began, then quieted again. He turned to say something to his interpreter.
"You had a hard time at home?" she in turn asked Fenrir, who nodded.
"Wasn't easy with my old man."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Vasili said. He was still holding his hand on Fenrir's arm. Contrary to what Fenrir would have thought, it had a calming effect - his hands didn't shake like they had before.
"Well, you didn't have it easy either," he said and Vasili shook his head, withdrawing his hand. Fenrir wasn't going to pretend to understand why Vasili's family had cut ties to him so bloodily, why Dusko and him hated each other so deeply. Didn't feel like something to bring up, either.
"I heard you lost your brother, too," Fenrir then said and Vasili blinked in surprise. "It's... the worst", Fenrir continued, not finding a suitable word to describe it.
"Arkadi, yes. Thank you for the memory. I appreciate it", said Vasili.
"I never met him. But Hassaleh did. She said he was very charming."
"He was..." Vasili whispered another word to his interpreter.
"Unique," she elaborated.
"I know how that feels. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thank you. He was very kind. Not complicated like our political and old... anger. He chose to more gentle than us," said Vasili and Fenrir nodded. A smile tugged at the corner of Vasili's mouth. "He was taller than me. I was older."
Now Fenrir chuckled, too. "I was the same with Gandr - I grew past him when I was 13", he said and Vasili hummed in amusement.
"I could meet him, one time. He was at the wedding of Konoe and I. He was young, maybe just teenager, but very wise for his youth. And kind. It felt important when everyone else was against me," he said.
Fenrir nodded, his smile fading slowly. Vasili was correct, of course, that sounded exactly like something Gandr would do. He always listened to all sides, always stood up for the misfit, was the voice for whoever was too weak to speak up for themselves. Him embracing a newly-minted pariah made complete sense.
"I know you have made him proud," Vasili said then, quietly. Fenrir looked at him. He felt the tears in the corners of his eyes, but just nodded.
"Thank you. I know Arkadi is proud of you, too", he whispered. Vasili gave a quick smile, then stood up. He hesitated for a second, then turned to his interpreter who chimed in.
"My lieges would like to say their condolences to your children. Would that be alright?" she said, Vasili adjusting his clothes.
"Of course", said Fenrir, also standing up. "I'm sure they would appreciate it. Thank you for coming. Thank you for... this talk," he continued, offering his hand to Vasili who took it with both of his and shook it.
"Do not mention it. Go in peace", he said with a slight smile. Fenrir nodded. The interpreter went ahead to open the door, and Dusko took the opportunity to shove himself in before letting Vasili out, the two deftly avoiding one another by ignoring each others' existence. Fenrir sat back down by the window, his heavy heart a smidgen lighter, one old wound mended to help him heal this new one.
