[Ardal] The Smallest of 14 Thrones

[Hyacinthus]

Ah, the silence. How long had he been laying here? He wasn't sure; He couldn't count the seconds, as he'd slipped in and out of consciousness at least once or twice already. No one had come for him, and his senses were still so overwhelmed by the pain his father had inflicted on him-- it must not have been long. The rhythmic beating of his heart and thumping, pulsing rushes of pain from the new bruises and swelling he could feel forming on his body further cemented that.

His father had never loved him-- not truly. Valen knew this, because he knew what love felt like. His mother loved him-- she doted on him, practically smothered him, and had even threatened his health in her own ways-- but beyond those obsessive tendencies, he knew she still loved him, and that those acts were born out of her intense love for him. No, his father by comparison saw him for his worth-- a playing piece for him to move about the board that was Ardal, and the nation as a whole, while the council quietly deferred to his more sadistic tendencies so long as they were allowed to rule the state from the shadows.

He knew he was little more than a figurehead. A puppet. And yet, he was powerless to change his own fate. Perhaps his feebleness as a man was born from the fact that he knew how powerless he was in the grand scheme of the duchy-- in the grand scheme of his own life.

The blonde man was suddenly racked by lightning-- a sear of pain shooting through his torso and chest as he instinctively turned on his side and fell into a coughing fit, blood spewing from his lips with each aching breath. He wasn't surprised; He'd always had a weak constitution. It was no wonder to him that those strikes to his chest and ribs may have broken bone, or ruptured organs. Eventually the pain subsided, but like the ocean cascaded waves, so to did Valen understand that it would return.

Yes, the pain would always return. And when he healed, his father would likely beat him again for some other foolish mistake or perceived insult to his name that he'd made. There really was no other option-- no other future that Valen could envision for himself. This was, and had always been his life, and would likely always be his life. Until the day he died... perhaps even beyond.

Slowly, he picked himself up from the floor. His movements were unsteady-- unsurprising of someone who'd just experienced what he had. Tears ran down his face, though he was in so much pain that he hadn't noticed it. His golden locks were stained slightly red from whence the blood he spit out meshed with his hair. His eyes lacked life-- as if he'd lost his sight. He looked like a man on death's door-- perhaps walking through. He wandered, slowly, toward the window of his abode, and slowly, his shaky hands unlatching the lock that held the door-like windows closed, and he pressed them open, allowing a gentle breeze into the room.

Ah... He was so high up. The breeze felt so nice. As he slowly began to lean further and further against, and outside of the window he couldn't help but wonder... what would happen if...

[visualspice]

When he moved she was relieved. It had been startling to over hear the trauma he had gone through...but something seemed.. off... worrisome About his demeanor. But she held back..uncertain. 

The man hadn't realized he trespassing... did she dare push her luck? Perhaps she ought to slip back through the servants quarters...

But when she turned to leave... she bumped into a slender and tall candelabra, cursing as she attempted to grab it from making noise and blossoming out her magics in hopes to catch it.

Too bad one of the candles fell off and bounced onto the marble floor, just outside of her silencing bubble.

[Hyacinthus]

Valen heard the fallen candle tap haplessly on the ground, rolling across the cool, marble tile until it collided softly with a dresser, and slowly he turned his gaze away from the freedom of the moonlit night, and toward the source of the noise. There, to his surprise, he found a familiar woman...

Or at least, that was what he would've liked to feel. Surprise, shock, anger at his personal space being intruded upon- anything, really. Yet as his tired, lifeless eyes gazed into— or perhaps beyond— her maid-guises figure, he felt... nothing. He knew he should've felt something, aside from the pain still reverberating through his body, but he didn't. He couldn't even think of a reason she would've been there— and yet, as if prioritizing what few mental functions it could, Valen's mind didn't even think of the potential reasons or ramifications.

Instead, having identified the source of the noise, Valen simply turned away, looking back to the moonlit sky, and heights from which he stood.

"...Have you come to kill me? Or perhaps laugh?" Speaking was an effort on his part— the pain in his chest and the bare, coarseness of this voice leading him to believe his father had done a little too much damage this time. Normally he avoided hitting or hurting him in any way that would prevent him from fulfilling his role as duke.

"It's a pleasant evening. Normally the quiet would scare me... but tonight, it's strange. I find it comforting. I find myself wondering what it would feel like to have this silence with me for an eternity."

[visualspice]

Vaelyn visibly flinched at her discovery, and held that emotion as she noted the hollow, pained look of the Duke.
But when he talked.. she knew exactly what he meant and just let the heavy silence be shared between them.

She approached, still saying nothing as she peered out the large window.  They were so high up... it reminded her of Wrent.  Her frown deepened at that. 

"Why do you allow it?" She asked softly, surprised at her own forwardness with the question - eyes stuck on the dark horizon of night.

He was the Duke yet... things here were far more complicated than she'd imagined. She had taken this spy job for the money.. but now?

What was she even doing here?

[Hyacinthus]

Valen closed his eyes for a moment, and reflected on the question posed to him. He understood what she was asking, of course— anyone in her position might've asked the same question, he figured. From the outside looking in, it seemed like insanity... or so he assumed.

And yet...

"How much do you know about this duchy? It's lineage?" His question may have seemed completely unrelated for a time, but he did not leave her to dwell on it for long. "My predecessor... abandoned the throne. The rumor that was spread among the people of the duchy was that he died in his sleep, but the story goes that he eloped with some mage, knowing that such a relationship would've put him to the blade if he came forward with it. There were no direct successors. No one was even willing to step forward."

He opened his eyes once more, and stared up into the clear sky, admiring the moon through his pain. "My father saw in me a candidate for the title of Duke— connected to the throne through the blood of my mother. But I... never wanted the crown." Thinking more intently on his words, he continued. "I am no leader. I've fought no battles, pursued no fame or glory of my own. The people see their 'adorable little Duke' as a symbol of the renewed purity of Ardal's future after the scandal that was the former beloved Duke's absence without a direct heir. A figurehead that needs only smile and wave at the masses while the council rules the duchy proper from behind."

Valen had to stop for a moment to collect himself— not emotionally, but physically as a particular wave of pain caused him to wearily shudder, and lower his head. He must've been delirious right now. Why was he saying all of this? If his father had been listening, he'd surely beat him further toward the brink of his life. "...I have no illusions of self-worth. The rumor that I'd grown sick was spread recently, as a countermeasure in case I were to be assassinated. No one would question the feeble, reclusive Duke's death if I were to die tonight. I'm certain the council has already begun making arrangements for my replacement, should it happen. I... I suppose you'd think I might follow in my predecessor's footsteps if I knew that, but..." He explained further, before closing his eyes once more and steadying himself. "...But I love Ardal. It's my home. It may have treated me poorly... it may have laughed at me behind my back, or beaten me into such a wretched state... but it's all I've ever known. If the ember of my life would be burned out to keep the fire of this duchy alight, then that is what it must be."

[visualspice]

She listened to what he said in silent courtesy. She knew very little about politics. What does a poor girl from the streets know about that? She was lucky when she was able to eat most weeks.. and thus found herself on this path.

"I'm not here to murder you," she told him, staring out at the twinkling night. That much should have been evident on their previous night's rendezvous bonus.

"I work as a spy. I'm meant to gather information. "

Why was she telling him this? He'd likely regret his own confessions yet...

Something about it felt good to get her secret lifestyle off her chest.  She supposed, in a way- she understood him.

She had been there- beaten and broken in the streets. Used for what she was. She was actually lucky to fall in line with Fueno. His work was more decent.. the workers.. well,,, Fueno never even entertained beating her. 

She leaned against the window, the stone feeling cool to the touch as she looked down at the manicured lawns sparkling with dew.

"Do you really love your home that much?"

[Hyacinthus]

Valen smiled, though it was both an emotionally and physically painful one. "A spy, hm...? Fascinating. Though I fear you've chosen a poor target."  He mused to himself on how unfortunate it was for her— the only thing she'd probably learned from spying on him was how fragile the house of cards that was this duchy's leadership really was.

"As for this duchy, my home... it's all I've ever known."

He repeated the phrase from earlier, looking down at the self-same foliage and lawn that the young woman was now peering over.

"If you could leave everything behind right now— all of your struggles as a spy, the threats on your life, all of it— would you?" It was a strange question, one that almost seemed out of the blue for the duke. "I know very little of you, so... forgive my forwardness, but I imagine we are not too unalike, you and I. Something in me tells me that you didn't choose the life you're living... but here you are."

He could not know how right or wrong he was— only that in his experience, no one dreamed of being used— of being a tool to meet the goals of someone else. And yet, the duchy had shown him that there were no shortage of people who were slaves to their fates— himself included.

"I imagine you wouldn't. Because no matter how much you wanted better for yourself, you have... something— the only person who makes life worth living as it is, or a place you can call your own. It's... it's fear, and it's objectively tragic, but it's also acceptance of your place in the world." With that rather roundabout explanation he merely shook his head, continuing to stare out into the night. "So no... no, I suppose I don't. But it's all I have left."

[visualspice]

She listened quietly and grew silent long after he spoke.

"Your father.. is he your only family?" She asked, hands squeezing at the stone as she thought to her own family.  She barely remembered much. She new life was terrible.. and her parents only cared about themselves.. the damned war...

Her brother has been beaten like the Duke had. And with Zander gone.. was she seeking him out in Valen?

[Hyacinthus]

The Duke shook his head, leaning against the windowsill as he responded with an exhale. "I have a mother, but I haven't seen her since taking on the role of Duke. She was... is... obsessive. Father keeps her locked indoors, away from the rest of the world. His 'beloved jewel'."

There was a hint of resentment in his voice as he spoke, but Valen didn't pursue it. Instead, he thought back on the many nights his mother coddled him to the point of suffocation; the many days she would dress him in gowns and womanly garbs, and parade him about the house like a life-sized doll. The sickness in his blood hit felt after eating her meals, unable to disobey her— too far indoctrinated to do so. It was no wonder his father looked down on him. He couldn't help but wonder what his life would've been like if he had never been forcibly separated from her.

"A sadistic father and a mad mother. Both of whom stand so far above the duchy's commonwealth that no one would question either's actions. I... suppose you could say I have no true family. Perhaps I never did. I was always either someone's toy, or someone's meal ticket."

[visualspice]

She could relate to that.. the obsession. She has seen it, hung with paranoia on how her parents had treated Zander.

"I suppose we can't choose who we're born to," she replied softly. She grew quiet again, thoughtful before crawling up onto the tall window's ledge and peered out into the night with no fear.

"Do you really want to hear the silence?" She asked, not looking towards him. No.. her eyes were set upon the distance. 

[Hyacinthus]

Valen lowered his gaze, a sorrowful look in his eyes as his fingers uncomfortably gripping into the painted window as he thought on her words. You truly couldn't choose who you were born to; or the consequences of your birth. You could only choose how you dealt with both.

He thought over her other question as well, but couldn't come up with an answer. Not an honest one. The pain that had enveloped his senses had begun to subside at long last, and his mind was beginning to clear. And yet, in that clarity came the self-same doubt and weakness that had plagued him all of his life. Not knowing what the right thing to do was- not being confident enough to speak for what he believed in.

He hated that part of himself with every fiber of his being... and yet that was just who he was. What the world had shaped him into, and what he'd allowed the world to shape him into.

"...I'm tired. Very, very tired." He wasn't talking about sleep, though even that weighed on his mind now. "There's... no way out. Of any of this. I know there's only one way forward for me... And yet... I'm scared." A smile formed on Valen's lips once more as he looked over at the young woman who'd climbed atop the windowsill. "I'm scared of... disappearing. Never knowing what it meant to be happy, or even to reach for it. So I... can't. Pathetic, I know."

[visualspice]

Vaelyn simply stood over him on the sill, the breeze calming and cool. She said nothing, again letting that familiar silence settle between them.

"Take my hand," She said softly, offering a hand down to him.

[Hyacinthus]

Wearily, Valen looked up at the hand extended to him. It never actually dawned on him that he was still speaking with a spy... of dubious origin and intent. Only now that she'd addressed him directly did he start to wonder who or what the person standing above him actually was— and what their purpose here had been in the first place.

And yet, he was still well enough out of his mind from the pain that he could not question it if he wanted to. Not before another dull surge of suffering would take him.

Wordlessly, he reached up— hesitant, but mostly due to the pain he felt in his arm as he did so. She could've been planning to hurt or harm him in some way— but Valen didn't particularly care at the moment. He'd poured his heart out, or what was left of it, to this woman— he was well and truly hollow already. As he grasped her hand, he could only think to himself that no matter what happened next, the world would move on— with or without him. He had done all that he could.

[visualspice]

She helped him to the sill, the pair standing on the ledge together, wind rustling their hair.  The wind really did feel nice, and tasted like the sweet manicured gardens below.

She looked at the man before her, who looked in pain, beaten and beyond exhaustion. 

"Here's a taste of silence," She Whispered, squeezing his hand gently as she closed her eyes and focused.

Then there was nothing. 

The world continued to flow around them, winds without sounds and the light fluttering feeling of their hairs dancing upon skin. Even the trees still danced without their rustling of leaves. 

She opened her eyes to look at him.

It was pure, saturated silence- and for it- all other senses seemed to alight.

[Hyacinthus]

Valen could not have braced himself in any way for what he was about to experience. Nothing, not even the traumatizing attempt on his life came close. His eyes focused on the woman before him as she spoke, but then widened as she set into action her gift.

The world... went silent.

He could feel the wind blowing against his neck, but he couldn't hear it. He could see the shifting locks of the woman's hair before him as breeze caressed their faces, yet he even that caress was silent. It was as if he'd become lost in a singular moment... and yet time pressed on all the same.

Even the doubts that plagued his mind... silenced.

His eyes slowly turned to take in the night once more, under a new light. The moon seemed... brighter, crisper than he'd ever known. The swaying trees... every leaf in the wind, every blade of grass shifting to a tune of its own. Even the pain that enveloped him was likened to an intense warmth in the moment.

"...You're a mage," He stated almost absentmindedly, looking back into the eyes of the woman before him. His word were deafened by her spell, however— and perhaps that was for the best. It needed not be said.

[visualspice]

She continued to look into his eyes for a spell, even long after he spoke the unheard words. Then her gazed dropped, as did the silence, and the sounds of the night swelled around them, the hissing of crickets and the symphony of nightbirds. Even the winds seemed a little louder.

"I should go," she said softly, returning her gaze back into his room.

Before she got caught there again.

[Hyacinthus]

"I—"

Valen shivered as his senses were once more righted; the silence he'd so suddenly been introduced to taken away, as if an echo of peace had come and gone. And indeed, the world felt much louder for it... unbearably so. The once gentle breeze seemed to scoff at him for so quickly being swept off his feet by a momentary respite; the swaying branches of elder trees rattling almost like hollow bones, re-instilling a sense of loneliness within him.

He could hear his voice again. His self doubts. He could properly realize now how much he hated both, having been separate from them for a single moment.

His gaze downcast, he did not argue with the woman. He couldn't. They were indeed from two different worlds, and he could not find it within himself to be so selfish as to ask her to further blend her own with his— not as a Connlaothian, and not as the Duke of Ardal. Such was the burden of his fate.

"...Thank you," Was all he could manage.

[visualspice]

She fetched something from a pocket- stuffing a roll of bandages into his hands. 

"Wear these every night. Tightly.." she frowned, staring at his hands. "It will hurt, but it'll help the bruises heal more quickly. "

She continued to stare , her own eyes downcast. 

"And eat oranges. The orange fruit from the south. " she blushed. He likely knew what oranges were. 

"They too, help your wounds heal more quickly "

[Hyacinthus]

It was strange.

For a moment's time, after having the bandages pushed into his empty hands, Valen was silent; his gaze blank. Despite clearly hearing the instructions given to him, he simply stared down at the spot where the roll of cloth sat, as if confused beyond comprehension.

Perhaps the spy might assume him arrogant, or dismissive of his actions— or lack thereof— in that moment, but no, it was plain truth— he was simply confused.

This was... a kindness. A blunt, unassuming kindness no less, seemingly not born of obligation or deference to his position. She was helping him... but she had no reason to— none that he could discern. His next question, then came as no surprise, at least to himself.

"...Why are you...?" He began, though he hesitated halfway through, afraid of the answer. The truth was that he both cared and didn't care why she would help him— his heart twisted at the thought that someone would do anything for him without expecting something in return, as if such a thing were nigh impossible. And yet...

[visualspice]

She tensed at his words, grimacing. What was she doing? Maybe Fueno was right...

What was she supposed to say to him? He was a Duke. He may as well be a God. But as she stood there, uncertain what to feel or say...

She simply decided not to say anything at all.

Her hand touched lightly to his arm again and the sudden quiet blanketed them both.  And she just held his arm, keeping the silence blooming between them.
.before she slipped away....
stepping off the sill and to the ground- the silence still carrying around her, around them before she paused before a servant's door.

The hesitation was palpable, silence clinging yet clear.

Then sound came back in a rush, like a wave, and she stood a moment, heart pounding as she listened for sound on the other side. Then.. when she felt it was safe enough to pass, Vaelyn disappeared inside.