[SPOIL OF WAR AU]

[homosexuals]

SPOIL OF WAR AU

after all we all are prisoners. of our memories, our desires, our limitations, our disappointments… in the end we are terribly tragic creatures.

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[apologetics]

I suppose we will have to sit in the moonlight one day and you will see for yourself. I cannot share all my secrets, Hawk. But the proprieties of court aren't necessary when no one is nearby enough to see.

All the same - hold me to my word. Someday, of course. I will meet you in the gardens tomorrow afternoon.


[ sometimes, when tim works late, he flips through the book of their letters, touching the indents of hawk's words and imagining what those fingertips might feel against his skin. it's forbidden, really, that he allows himself to wonder this at night when he's laying awake. it's foolish to want to wander with his hair streaming loose and robes left behind to see if he might find him.

but he does none of this. instead, he arranges for their lessons in the gardens, and after meeting hawkins at the fountain and guiding him deep into the grounds where few go. it's in a circle of tall, beautifully colored flora that he's set up a spot for them - a blanket and some food, books and papers spread out. everything in full bloom, they're practically invisible from any foot path. ]

This is just one of many spots you may find some privacy, when you are busy and asked after often as King. I feel it's important for even a monarch to have places they may go to rest.

[ tim is sitting with his legs tucked to one side, a book in his lap on etiquette. he's worn lighter robes today with the weather, his hair scooped up into a messy chignon of wavy, loopy curls, getting it up off his neck while they sit in the shade of flowers. ]

You must keep this secret for me - I steal away here myself sometimes when I need to.

[homosexuals]

[this might be the first place within the castle that has felt like a true sanctuary - somewhere without the pressures of a new culture and watchful, prying eyes at every turn. it holds more solitude even than the safety of his own room behind closed doors, tranquil and fragrant and so removed from the opulence of the rest of the court that it almost reminds him of what home was once like before it had been ravaged by war. but most of all it's the ease and familiarity with which tim moves within the space - the near liquid pool of his less constricting robes, the way one thigh peeks through the sheer material as it's curled up against his body with a book resting against it, the curls of his hair flowing in pretty tendrils along the sides of his face. there is something ethereal about him here in sunlight, but equally alluring is the promise of moonlight that he knows is being offered to him under the guise of the lessons now.

will he come tonight, hawk wonders? or will tim find he's had his fill of hawk's wry commentary and sparkling blue eyes, even if it's not the history and the mention of a king he's giving his full attention, but rather the man himself for the beauty of every exceptional curve of his visage and the clandestine meeting he's been so strategically introduced to. maybe it's selfish to want more. certainly a risk, danger lurking about even if tim insists this place somehow escapes the soldier's patrols. hawk is not in the business of acting as if there are not eyes everywhere.]

I wouldn't dream of it. And - as a future King, I could hardly consider myself fair if I were to take away your only place of pure solitude. What kind of reward is that for a Counselor and a constituent most generous to share it in the first place?

[he leans in, conspiratorial after making a show of glancing about and lowering his voice. his gaze shifts too, briefly to tim's lips before it drags slowly back up to his eyes. have they always had the richness of honey in their center? he remembers them looking more like the delectable draw of amber in a glass - fine ale or something sweet.]

Your secret is safe with me. And this spot - it is ours alone, now.

[hawk leans in slightly, shifting so he slides in closer to tim.]

Anything you say here is between Hawkins Fuller and Timothy Laughlin. No titles, no judgment. What do you think?

[apologetics]

[ hawk is stunning in the bright light of late afternoon, the sun warming his skin, making his eyes sparkle in a way he never sees inside. being outdoors suits him, he realizes, all strong muscles and sturdy build. he settles beside him and tim finds himself already startled by how comfortably the man leans into his space, heat rising up into the high points of his cheeks.

a background of flowers, greenery, bright sun and blue sky makes him look like something out of a painting. part of him wants to tell the court painter to paint him here among nature, sun warm and soft, like the heavens themselves smiling down on him. hawkins fuller will be a good, kind leader. a king that tim can only hope to serve. ]

As future King, all of this in the garden will be yours, so you may do with it as you see fit you know.

[ he smiles, the motion dimpling his cheeks a little, scrunching up his nose behind his spectacles. but there's no denying the way hawk's eyes track to his lips, the way he slides in closer. their letters have ignited something in him. he's had trysts with men before, hidden little things of passion but no affection. necessity, less true desire. but when he looks at hawkins fuller, he feels burning in his gut.

want.

he fidgets with the book in his lap, fingers flipping the corner of one page idly, thumb running over the smooth paper. ]

I'd like that, though. This place being - well, ours. Hawkins Fuller and Timothy Laughlin. We were blessed to have names that tie up the tongue. [ he huffs a little, a laugh, briefly tipping his head up, eyes fluttering closed to admire the sun. ]

It will be very difficult to focus on studies, which is what we should be doing. But it is lovely outside, and I'll admit perhaps when I shouldn't that the company may be lovelier.