Title: Ascalon, Upturned
Ship: Dion/Terence
Terence-centric, Character Study, Terence & Bahamut, Implied Sensuality, Rating T+
“Have I overstepped? If I have not yet, then let me now.”
Terence wants a word.
part (1/2)
~1k.
---
"Terence," Dion teased. "I can hear you thinking."
So he was, though not for lack of trying. Sleep would have been far more welcome than thought.
It would be Greagor's Day tomorrow—or, if time had slipped past on quieter feet than either of them had realized, it was Greagor’s Day today. A holy day of the highest degree, so named for Her indomitable will. A day for prayers, for wishing, for bringing light to others during this, the longest night of the year, even if that light was as slight and fragile as a candle’s flame. The Goddess’ ceaseless war against darkness came to its head on this night, and Her people, loyal soldiers that they were, would only be glad to stand with Her.
Every year the great battle raged, and every year when it seemed that perhaps night would win at last, She would triumph again. Slowly, the days would grow longer, and surely, the darkness would retreat—by Greagor's sacred mercies; holy; holy.
Tonight Dion would pass over the capitol on Bahamut’s wings, a beacon to the people and a testament to Sanbreque’s might, its will, and its faith—glorifying the Holy Emperor, barely drawing the notice of Their dull and glutted Eminences, boring Prince Olivier to tears. The curse would crawl further up his arm for the privilege.
It didn’t bear thinking about, especially with Dion’s heart beating steady beneath his ear. Terence closed his eyes. He had decided a long time ago he would never ask anything of Dion on the Goddess's day, but…
"You should be far too tired for thinking.” Sensing imminent movement, Dion placed a kiss on the crown of Terence’s head. On any other day, the strategy would have been sound. "I have not left you wanting, have I?”
Huffing, Terence turned on his back. Let Dion see for himself how he had left him.
He could not even have pride at the sound of his soft inhale. With thought, disquiet had caught itself against him, like cloth on rough skin. He went still, anticipating the dip of the bed as his Prince settled beside him. Terence saw gold hair, the curve of his cheek. He turned from them and held his breath.
“Tell me,” he heard Dion say.
In all the years Terence had been privy to them, the Prince's rooms had been kept clean, orderly, and as tastefully appointed as the glory of Sanbreque might allow. That had not saved them from beautiful, sugared scenes of war, their subjects—victors and the vanquished—resplendent in their sticky frosting of plaster. Terence had long since committed every sickly detail of the frescoes surrounding them to memory. An idle mind could do far worse.
One sleepless night he had found a small golden dragon, tucked deep in the corner of the frame the walls made, quite beyond notice. The creature was not one of any special significance—there were fiercer wyrms, to be sure, bolder and more beautiful besides—but he liked the steady purpose he saw in its face, its rearing posture and clean white talons, the space it dared to take. That the painter had bothered with it at all when it seemed quite superfluous to do so had endeared it to him in the first place; the gilt scales, of course, took close second. He looked it in the eyes now, speaking low but true:
"I would ask an audience with the King."
From the very corner of his eye, Terence saw Dion stiffen, then masterfully recover. If Terence did not know his Prince so well, so attuned to any sign of stillness in him, he might not have noticed it at all.
"He will not hear of it," Dion said gently. He reached for the fine, freshly shorn hair behind Terence's ear. "I—"
Will not, Terence wondered. Was he truly so particular? So proud? What of the people, then, who spent their prayers each day on—
He shut his eyes for a moment to think, allowing himself the fullness of the pleasure of Dion’s touch. He was always wanting. It couldn’t be helped.
"You do not want His attention," Dion added, even gentler. "Much less His regard."
Terence's right hand gathered, trapping his heartbeat inside his fist. It would be ridiculous to try to play it off, or to hide it from Dion, whether beneath a pillow or sheet or a lie. He placed it instead over his chest, clasping it tight to better hold his peace.
Dion reached for him again, tracing over the prominence of his knuckles. As he did, as he ever had, he made a space for himself, threading his fingers between Terence's and bringing his hand to his mouth for a kiss.
"It's a day for wishes, Terence,” he began, his voice tender as his touch. “Here is mine: stay. Sleep. To have you like this is a rare gift. A chance to weather the night with you by my side—I would be the worst sort of fool not to take it."
It was clumsy, but Terence had not exactly been fleet footed and sure himself. He was satisfied that he had at least broached the subject of permission. Without that, only forgiveness—if it were granted—remained. He told himself the scriptures held that ambition was sacred. Whatever Greagor had not given, She meant as a test of will, of love. He was resolved.
"I will wake you before first light," Dion promised, pressing close. “I would see the sun rise with you by my side.”
Terence relented. He put his back to the window, rolling the half turn he needed to bring Dion into the circle of his arms. It was easier than he expected to give himself over to sleep that way, even with the twinkling blue light of the Mothercrystal and the solstice decorations reflected in the warm brown of Dion’s eyes.
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hehehehe i was tagged by @cheatghost to post 6 characters i relate to so here we go!
1. nandor the relentless from what we do in the shadows - i too am a giant himbo
2. holland march from the nice guys - biggest idiot that just coincidentally is good at his job-- also i too make references to things im obsessed with constantly (he referenced hitler at least 5 times in the movie--- for no good reason)
3. will graham from hannibal (nbc) - delusional autistic mess that WOULD fall in love with a cannibal murderer given the chance
4. eliot waugh from the magicians - sarcastic gayboy with too many emotional problems-- also i would spend an entire lifetime falling in love and living with my best friend (and then come back to the current timeline and our bond would be unbreakable)
5. eddie munson from stranger things - apparently i have big ole cow eyes too (i dont know that i agree but @a-little-unsteddie thinks so and i have it on good authority that they know a lot about me) also; i would have flunked hs twice if this was the 80s too, and i am loud, autistic, and gay
6. charlie spring from heartstopper - so gay and full of love for my people----- sweet lil dork too i think (and i wanna play the drums so bad but i have no space for it)
SORRY THIS IS SO LATE IT'S BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR FOREVER BUT I WAS WAITING TO BE ABLE TO FINISH IT ON MY COMPUTER ------- thank you for the tag lou <3333
im gonna tagggggg.....
@a-little-unsteddie @rhaenyyras @riality-check @someforeignband @sailing-through-hawkins @highkingpenny @corrodedcorpses & anyone else who wants to do this !!
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