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[goldtoes]

I'm still not sure this is a good idea. [ One of the House war strategists is talking as he leans over the map table, pinning areas of territory and marking out the border with their biggest stalemate, a point of contention with one of the only supply routes into the North. ] The other staff says the boy-king has been nothing but hell since he's arrived. [ Perrin pauses, punches another pin through the parchment. ] ... more than usual.

[ And he isn't wrong. They had come in early in the morning, just after dawn, in carts pulled by thick-coated draft horses; it's all unusual. The boy-king, Kyrnar, is seen by almost no-one even as he's stashed away like precious goods, tucked into his quarters with a pair of enormous kingsguard at the door who look like they could snap somebody's head off with a flick of their wrist.

There's something off about all of it.

Not least is the fact that he's on time for this meeting, which happens almost never; something smells off about him, too. The chilly smell of ice and omega sweetness has been replaced with something gentler - more a mark of motherhood than saccharine fertility. He slinks in, still so thin he might shatter (though Idris has never managed to break him, so there) as he gingerly takes his seat, white-blond and sharp-eyed and already agitated. He looks - unwell. A touch pale, cheeks flushed, seated uncomfortably as if he isn't sure how to.

It's warmer, down here, and though there's a pelt draped over his shoulders, the rest of his clothing is replaced with things more appropriate for summer. On his bone-thin frame, several months pregnant is enough to show, and out of protective instinct more than conscious decision, he drops one hand to cradle the curve of his round little belly as he leans forward to tap on the map with breakable fingers. ]

Quickly, then. I have no inclination to be down here longer than I must. Talk.

Comments

[goldtoes]

Picky, picky, you have such high standards... [ Kyr hums at him, singsong and playful, but he nods. His hair is... er, less than desireable, but the usual braids and rings and rows take hours to do even with experienced hands. ]

I suppose. Tell me something interesting about you. Something I don't know. [ He lapses into content silence as Idris bathes him, narrow hands splayed cozily against the underside of gentle, pregnant curve - and, after several minutes, reaches up to grasp his wrist and press the free hand to the skin, very specificially against the left side where the barest flutter of movement flickers against his fingers. A tiny smile pulls at his mouth. ]

2020 IS ALMOST DEad more celebratory tags coming soon!!!

[gremyr]

[ Idris grunts in objection; he does not have high standards. The opposite, really! He's always been lax and easy to please... Except, perhaps, with horses. Those are important for many things, only the best will do. And food- also very important, if a little indulgent, but surely that's forgivable. And architecture, which is expected to be sound while easy on the eyes without being ostentatious. Maybe he has particular preferences for a few more small things as well... That's not so much to expect, though, is it? Everything is much less wasteful in the long run when something is done correctly from the beginning... Oh, hell.

His lathering slows to a pause, his eyes staring blankly at the smooth surface of the water below. ] I... I have high standards. [ He says it like he's disappointed. Kyr asked for something interesting he doesn't know, not something he'd plainly stated moments ago. But the realization is new for Idris, so it evidently counts as fresh, unknown information.

He huffs. ] I- damn. [ He'd like to sass, but the words won't quite come to him. Then his hand is commandeered, pressed against Kyr's belly, and the salty attitude melts away rather quickly. A grin brightens him when he realizes what the flutters mean. ] ...Is it making fun of me? It is, isn't it. Stop making me sound like a fool in front of my pup. [ Idris' complaining is warm despite the words, and though he teases, he does wonder- does it hear him? Does it know who he is?

His index finger lightly taps against Kyr's skin, greeting the little thing inside. ]

THANK GOD WAVES MY HANDS IN THE AIR but i actually care very much

[goldtoes]

You what? [ Kyr is laughing, leaning in to press a kiss to Idris' jaw in an effort to soothe the distressing revelation he's just, apparently, sparked. ] I was teasing. And, [ he quirks a tiny smile, slender fingers winding through Idris' to lace them atop warm skin, and from beneath it there's a flutter in response to the tap. ] you never look a fool. Although, if they were making fun of you, I'd have to point out that half of them are from me, and I think the first thing I ever said to you was probably making fun of you, so...

[ So the apple maybe didn't fall far from the tree, and Kyr was under no impression that he was an especially nice or generous person. ]

[gremyr]

Hmm. [ Idris is too easy. The corner of his mouth curls in to a lazy smile, the kiss and words melting him just as well as the faint beats of movement under his hand.

The first thing Kyr said to him had been something jarring and rude, hadn't it? The memory makes him chuckle. ] Well, I doubt whatever this one is saying packs the same sort of punch. You had at least a few of my people doing their best to knock you dead through will alone. [ It was only magial ability they lacked... Lucky for Kyr.

He gives Kyr's belly a little rub before his washing resumes. ] All the movement is a landmark occasion, isn't it? You should have a full-time attendant around this time, I think. [ It's common here, anyhow. ] Have you brought yours?