(no subject)
Mar. 26th, 2017 07:16 pmLincoln looked at him with something like recognition. Nicaise felt a flicker of hope, but then Lincoln began to tremble, to shake. It was horrible. When Damen threw the phone at him he fumbled and nearly dropped it, and his own fingers were unsteady when he brought up the calling screen and typed in the number.
He talked with the woman who answered, letting her know of the situation and their location. She told him to stay on the line with her until the ambulance came, so he held the phone to his ear, still watching Lincoln and Damen with wide eyes.
He lowered the phone from his ear a moment while they waited. "Is he going to die?" he asked Damen in a frightened voice.
As Nicaise spoke on the phone, Damen focused his attention on the man beneath him. He had stopped shaking, but remained unconscious, much less intimidating with his eyes closed and lips parted. Damen felt for the man's pulse, assuring himself and Nicaise both that he was still alive.
Aware that he could rouse at any moment, Damen was reluctant to relax completely, one hand still curled around the man's forearm, holding him to the ground. 'I don't know,' he answered honestly, then added at the sight of Nicaise's worry, 'If the medic hurries, I don't think so.'
Holding a hand just above the man's mouth, he determined, once again, that the man was still breathing. He remembered a moment from a medic out in battle and carefully rolled the man onto his side, his heart pounding with the possibility he could wake at any moment, that he could be just as dangerous in that moment if not more so in his disorientation.
'You said his name is Lincoln?' he asked, glancing over at Nicaise who still held the phone to his ear but was no longer speaking.
He talked with the woman who answered, letting her know of the situation and their location. She told him to stay on the line with her until the ambulance came, so he held the phone to his ear, still watching Lincoln and Damen with wide eyes.
He lowered the phone from his ear a moment while they waited. "Is he going to die?" he asked Damen in a frightened voice.
As Nicaise spoke on the phone, Damen focused his attention on the man beneath him. He had stopped shaking, but remained unconscious, much less intimidating with his eyes closed and lips parted. Damen felt for the man's pulse, assuring himself and Nicaise both that he was still alive.
Aware that he could rouse at any moment, Damen was reluctant to relax completely, one hand still curled around the man's forearm, holding him to the ground. 'I don't know,' he answered honestly, then added at the sight of Nicaise's worry, 'If the medic hurries, I don't think so.'
Holding a hand just above the man's mouth, he determined, once again, that the man was still breathing. He remembered a moment from a medic out in battle and carefully rolled the man onto his side, his heart pounding with the possibility he could wake at any moment, that he could be just as dangerous in that moment if not more so in his disorientation.
'You said his name is Lincoln?' he asked, glancing over at Nicaise who still held the phone to his ear but was no longer speaking.
[11/5] mending?
Nov. 16th, 2016 10:10 pmIt was foolish perhaps, a ridiculous, romantic gesture that would have doubtlessly made Nikandros roll his eyes.
But it had been days since Damen had last seen Laurent, days since Erasmus had abruptly gathered his few belongings from Damen's dwelling and relocated to his own domicile on the other end of town. Days since Damen had spoken with Erasmus to find the reason behind his hasty departure.
Days since the dust had settled.
And now Damen stood outside Laurent's door with a bouquet of flowers and a carefully wrapped box of chocolates. It was a custom here, he had learned. A courting custom. It didn't strike him as quite as meaningful as the books he'd already given Laurent or the painting of which they'd spoken. But he could only hope the sentiment would be clear.
Or, at the least, he could hope that the news he brought might be enough to calm Laurent's ire.
Resting the bouquet in the crook of his arm, Damen knocked upon Laurent's door. And waited.
But it had been days since Damen had last seen Laurent, days since Erasmus had abruptly gathered his few belongings from Damen's dwelling and relocated to his own domicile on the other end of town. Days since Damen had spoken with Erasmus to find the reason behind his hasty departure.
Days since the dust had settled.
And now Damen stood outside Laurent's door with a bouquet of flowers and a carefully wrapped box of chocolates. It was a custom here, he had learned. A courting custom. It didn't strike him as quite as meaningful as the books he'd already given Laurent or the painting of which they'd spoken. But he could only hope the sentiment would be clear.
Or, at the least, he could hope that the news he brought might be enough to calm Laurent's ire.
Resting the bouquet in the crook of his arm, Damen knocked upon Laurent's door. And waited.
it's not a date unless somebody dies
Oct. 13th, 2016 09:08 pmSince Erasmus's arrival, there had been little opportunity for Damen to spend time alone with Laurent. A boy raised as a slave, raised to serve to such a degree as Erasmus, could not be left alone to fend for himself in a world as strange as this. And so Damen had taken him in, taken him under his wing to an extent. Laurent, upon learning that Damen now shared a dwelling with the boy who had been raised to become his personal body slave - even if that boy was still unaware of Damen's true identity - had sworn to not set foot in Damen's apartment.
In truth, Damen did not quite understand the upset, though he knew Erasmus was likely to drop to his knees out of sheer habit should the man he knew only as the Prince of Vere were to enter his presence.
It was partially that reason, but largely that Damen had found himself longing to be near Laurent more and more with each passing week, that found him in Laurent's terrace, lounging upon the chaise with Laurent pressed against his side. Dutch had shown him quite some time ago how to operate the television and had suggested the notion of staring at with Laurent as a courting activity.
Though it had taken some time to find anything both he and Laurent could agree worth watching, Damen could now see the appeal. It was a quiet even. Relaxed. The majority of Damen's focus was centered on the press of Laurent's arm against his own, Laurent's slow and even breathing, the light brush of Laurent's hair upon Damen's shoulder. But even so, he was hardly uncomfortable.
'If I happen to fall asleep right here, will you attend me?' he asked after a long, silent moment, his lips quirked into a faint grin as he smoothed a hand down Laurent's arm.
In truth, Damen did not quite understand the upset, though he knew Erasmus was likely to drop to his knees out of sheer habit should the man he knew only as the Prince of Vere were to enter his presence.
It was partially that reason, but largely that Damen had found himself longing to be near Laurent more and more with each passing week, that found him in Laurent's terrace, lounging upon the chaise with Laurent pressed against his side. Dutch had shown him quite some time ago how to operate the television and had suggested the notion of staring at with Laurent as a courting activity.
Though it had taken some time to find anything both he and Laurent could agree worth watching, Damen could now see the appeal. It was a quiet even. Relaxed. The majority of Damen's focus was centered on the press of Laurent's arm against his own, Laurent's slow and even breathing, the light brush of Laurent's hair upon Damen's shoulder. But even so, he was hardly uncomfortable.
'If I happen to fall asleep right here, will you attend me?' he asked after a long, silent moment, his lips quirked into a faint grin as he smoothed a hand down Laurent's arm.
(no subject)
Oct. 2nd, 2016 02:02 pmWithout a kingdom to return to, an army to command, or a plot to uncover, there was a great deal less to occupy Damen's time. He'd spent the majority of his life in training, either for battle or for ruling and, while being captured and sent to Vere had halted that as much as finding himself in this city, he'd still had some means of usefulness even in Vere.
Perhaps, in many ways, he'd been more useful there than ever before.
Here, however, was a different story entirely. In some ways, it was a relief. Peace was far preferable to war, after all.
But he could never quite shake the boredom.
Visiting the gym was essentially the highlight of his days. He'd mastered the machines after some time and had even joined a few... classes as they were called. It was the closest he'd found to continuing his training and Damen threw himself into the motions, pushed himself mentally and physically and left every day with that familiar thrum just under his skin.
Today was no different and Damen breathed in the brisk autumn air as he exited the building, hiking the bag holding his sweat-soiled clothing higher up on his shoulder as he made his way back to his dwelling. Nice as it was, perhaps Laurent would be amendable to an afternoon walk.
Perhaps, in many ways, he'd been more useful there than ever before.
Here, however, was a different story entirely. In some ways, it was a relief. Peace was far preferable to war, after all.
But he could never quite shake the boredom.
Visiting the gym was essentially the highlight of his days. He'd mastered the machines after some time and had even joined a few... classes as they were called. It was the closest he'd found to continuing his training and Damen threw himself into the motions, pushed himself mentally and physically and left every day with that familiar thrum just under his skin.
Today was no different and Damen breathed in the brisk autumn air as he exited the building, hiking the bag holding his sweat-soiled clothing higher up on his shoulder as he made his way back to his dwelling. Nice as it was, perhaps Laurent would be amendable to an afternoon walk.
[8/5] a not-date, probably
Aug. 4th, 2016 05:45 pmFollowing their conversation on the beach, a conversation that had turned much more antagonistic than he had expected, Damen thought it best to wait a number of days before calling on Laurent.
In the meantime, he filled his time as he had prior to Laurent's arrival, albeit he admittedly found himself frequently distracted.
He couldn't simply pretend Laurent wasn't here, couldn't go about his days as he had before knowing there was now someone else in this strange place that remembered his own world. That remembered him. And the fact that that person was Laurent of Vere made it all the worse. Why him, Damen couldn't help but wonder.
After very nearly a week, Damen used the writing feature on his phone that Noazerny had shown him to message Laurent and they made arrangements to meet at a tavern almost perfectly equidistant from Laurent's terrace and Damen's apartment.
Only, when Damen arrived, clad in the pair of shorts and simple sleeveless top he'd grown accustomed to wearing, he found himself turned away at the door.
'I'm sorry, sir, but we have a strict dress code.'
'A dress code?' Damen replied, shaking his head. 'But I'm meeting someone. A friend. We've come to dine.'
The man only stared at him a moment with a look Damen had come to recognize as indicating this was something he should know. 'Please feel free to return when you're dressed appropriately,' he said with an air of finality.
Frowning, Damen ran a hand through his hair and glanced down at himself, unclear on how what he wore could somehow be considered inappropriate.
In the meantime, he filled his time as he had prior to Laurent's arrival, albeit he admittedly found himself frequently distracted.
He couldn't simply pretend Laurent wasn't here, couldn't go about his days as he had before knowing there was now someone else in this strange place that remembered his own world. That remembered him. And the fact that that person was Laurent of Vere made it all the worse. Why him, Damen couldn't help but wonder.
After very nearly a week, Damen used the writing feature on his phone that Noazerny had shown him to message Laurent and they made arrangements to meet at a tavern almost perfectly equidistant from Laurent's terrace and Damen's apartment.
Only, when Damen arrived, clad in the pair of shorts and simple sleeveless top he'd grown accustomed to wearing, he found himself turned away at the door.
'I'm sorry, sir, but we have a strict dress code.'
'A dress code?' Damen replied, shaking his head. 'But I'm meeting someone. A friend. We've come to dine.'
The man only stared at him a moment with a look Damen had come to recognize as indicating this was something he should know. 'Please feel free to return when you're dressed appropriately,' he said with an air of finality.
Frowning, Damen ran a hand through his hair and glanced down at himself, unclear on how what he wore could somehow be considered inappropriate.
it was going to be a beautiful day
May. 18th, 2016 08:47 pmAfterward, Damen found his way back to the tent, weaving and swaying with his pants held up with one hand. Laurent stirred from beneath his furs, laughing as the ground beneath Damen swayed and lurched. 'Stop,' he warned, walking on unsteady legs toward his own pile of furs. 'If you laugh, I'll follow over.'
And he did just that, collapsing into the pile with a grin and closing his eyes. His muscles were still thrumming pleasantly, mind fuzzy from the drink and activity. 'Halvik had a lot of girls,' he said, exhausted and utterly sated.
'Stop laughing,' he said when he heard another snicker, glancing over to see Laurent with his head propped one on hand.
'This is instructive. I've seen you put half a dozen men in the dirt without breaking a sweat.'
'Not right now, I couldn't,' Damen said. The low ceiling of the tent began to swim and Damen closed his eyes again.
'I can see that,' said Laurent. 'You're relieved of your regular duties in the morning.'
'That's nice of you. I can't get up. I'll just lie here. Or did you need something?'
'Oh, how did you know? Take me to bed.'
Despite himself, Damen laughed, a low thing halfway stuck behind a groan. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the furs up over his head and sleep swiftly dragged under.
If he dreamt, he did not remember it. He woke slowly. Peacefully. The furs beneath him were unbelievably comfortable and the drink he had been given the night before, he was pleased to note, had not left him with an throbbing head.
Taking a deep breath, Damen rolled to his side and stretched his legs as the morning sun peeked through the front fold of the tent.
Damen blinked his eyes open, but his mind could not making any sense of what he was seeing.
The body was not Laurent's. Nor was it Kashel's, nor any of the other women he could remember exhausting him. And there were no furs.
Fear gripped him and held tight and Damen scrambled from the bed, his feet landing on the soft fabric of a rug. Only when Damen looked down, he noted that the rug extended to every corner of the room and that these corners connected walls the likes of which he had ever seen before.
The body in the bed was a man, as broad and tall as Damen but blond like Laurent. He looked like a warrior. Like a soldier.
'Where have you taken him?' he demanded in Veretian, shoulders hunched, unlaced pants barely clinging to his hips. He had no weapon but his own brute strength, but he was prepared to fight.
And he did just that, collapsing into the pile with a grin and closing his eyes. His muscles were still thrumming pleasantly, mind fuzzy from the drink and activity. 'Halvik had a lot of girls,' he said, exhausted and utterly sated.
'Stop laughing,' he said when he heard another snicker, glancing over to see Laurent with his head propped one on hand.
'This is instructive. I've seen you put half a dozen men in the dirt without breaking a sweat.'
'Not right now, I couldn't,' Damen said. The low ceiling of the tent began to swim and Damen closed his eyes again.
'I can see that,' said Laurent. 'You're relieved of your regular duties in the morning.'
'That's nice of you. I can't get up. I'll just lie here. Or did you need something?'
'Oh, how did you know? Take me to bed.'
Despite himself, Damen laughed, a low thing halfway stuck behind a groan. Rolling onto his side, he pulled the furs up over his head and sleep swiftly dragged under.
If he dreamt, he did not remember it. He woke slowly. Peacefully. The furs beneath him were unbelievably comfortable and the drink he had been given the night before, he was pleased to note, had not left him with an throbbing head.
Taking a deep breath, Damen rolled to his side and stretched his legs as the morning sun peeked through the front fold of the tent.
Damen blinked his eyes open, but his mind could not making any sense of what he was seeing.
The body was not Laurent's. Nor was it Kashel's, nor any of the other women he could remember exhausting him. And there were no furs.
Fear gripped him and held tight and Damen scrambled from the bed, his feet landing on the soft fabric of a rug. Only when Damen looked down, he noted that the rug extended to every corner of the room and that these corners connected walls the likes of which he had ever seen before.
The body in the bed was a man, as broad and tall as Damen but blond like Laurent. He looked like a warrior. Like a soldier.
'Where have you taken him?' he demanded in Veretian, shoulders hunched, unlaced pants barely clinging to his hips. He had no weapon but his own brute strength, but he was prepared to fight.