FIC POST!
when you were a fever; for forelock who loves Alexei and Raven, and for conrart who just loves Raven. SPOILERS FOR MYORZO AND BACTION. ~1000 words.
"You're a very strange man."
That's the first thing Commandant Alexei ever says to him. Not, "hello," or, "pleased to meet you" or even, "congratulations on your promotion."
It's not how he pictured their first meeting, exactly, but that's all right. Alexei's not exactly what he pictured either.
Schwann Oltorain doesn't feel anything particularly inspiring about being in his presence. Or maybe it's just that he'd been expecting more, after all the stories. The man was a legend, a symbol for the knights, and legends often tended to dull when one looked at them too closely.
"One hell of a war we're fighting here, sir," he says in reply, and inwardly he cringes at what his mother would think if she ever heard her son had sworn in the presence of the famed Commandant Alexei.
Great first impression right there. Well done, Schwann.
Alexei only looks at him with mild interest, so that Schwann feels kind of sized up and kind of like a bug at the same time. It's a little weird, but he'll go with it. A lot worse things have happened since his arrival at Mt. Temza, after all.
"Indeed, Captain," Alexei says finally. "Indeed it is."
*
He remembers what it was like-excitement, fear, lust, all pumping through his veins like a whirlwind and sending his head around in circles.
He is a calmer man, now. Perhaps one better-suited to the ideals of a captain, but he still remembers.
"I thought you'd be pleased," says Alexei, "honored at the very least." There's something different about his voice, Schwann thinks, until he realizes that Alexei's voice is exactly the same as it's always been. What's absent is the thrill-of adrenalin, of other things-that once ran up his spine at the sound of it. "Really Captain Schwann, so few men get a chance at a second life."
"We're going to lose the war, aren't we?" Schwann asks, to distract himself from the pulsing in his chest-red light where there should be movement.
"We've already lost," says Alexei, in his slate grey Commandant's voice. "It is time to turn your eyes to the road ahead, Captain Schwann. Rest up. Your life belongs to me now, and I plan on putting it to good use."
*
Five years pass like ten, and twice that feels like a lifetime. He is an old man at thirty, a respected member of Altosk and trusted by the Don himself.
"What of these guilds?" Alexei murmurs to himself, and Schwann almost tells him to go to hell-the privilege Alexei denied him. That, on top of everything else.
"Do whatever you want." Schwann-Raven now-adjusts the line of his coat idly. Magenta with yellow trim. Raven liked bright colors, he'd decided, and billed the whole wardrobe to the Imperial Knights.
Plus, bright colors offended Alexei's sensibilities and that made him feel all warm and cozy inside.
At least, it would have.
"That tone is unnecessary," Alexei says. "I am not one of those willful children you now travel with."
"Hey," he says, teasing his hair up at the back with both hands. It'll take some getting used to, this new style, but he's willing to commit to the lie. "It's Raven now. Raven."
*
The princess wears little white gloves, and when she takes his hand the soft cotton catches against the calluses on his fingers, his palms.
He can't help wishing Yuri'd taught her to fight a little better, but this lesson is all Raven's to teach. You can't trust everyone. More important than learning how to fight, everybody had to learn what to fight, how to look at the world with that kind of awareness.
It was a kindness he was doing her, but even without a heart he didn't feel exactly right about it.
"I'd have expected you of all people to understand," Alexei says. The sand crunches under his feet, sends up clouds of dust that make Raven want to cough and cough until he can breathe easy again.
Somehow he thinks it's not so simple as all that.
They're standing over the ruins of Yormgen, like archeologists at a dig site, except it's the middle of the night and the ones doing the digging are all soldiers. And how weird is that, that Yormgen is nothing but ruins when he can still smell the yellow flowers blooming, the salt of the sea and Yuefan's perfume.
"That's the sage's house," he says, just to be stubborn.
"The world is in need," Alexei says, ignoring him. "I do not expect others to see it as I do, but I will fix it."
"Awful big decision to make all by yourself, isn't it?" The tone of his voice is offensive, even to his own ears. It's Raven, not Schwann, only he doesn't remember what Schwann sounded like in the first place. Or what words sounded like with conviction behind them.
Passing the time with words is better than passing the time in silence, after all.
"I have made peace with the path I've chosen," Alexei says. The stars above their heads shine like frost gathering on a dark lake. "You ought to do the same."
Raven wants to ask him how it is a man with no heart's supposed to choose anything, let alone a path, but he gets the feeling that not asking those questions is kind of a part of it. Comes a time when every man's got to stand on his own two feet.
Wasn't it Yuri who was always reminding them of that?
"You're going to have one hell of a fight on your hands come morning," Raven says finally, reaching up to scratch his neck. He's not even sure whether he means the kids, or himself, or all of the above.
The Commandant seems to know, though, and isn't that just like him?
"I would expect nothing less," he says, and turns around to go to bed, satisfied. Things will be decided tomorrow, one way or another.
When Raven sleeps, he dreams of Yormgen and the yellow flowers.
"You're a very strange man."
That's the first thing Commandant Alexei ever says to him. Not, "hello," or, "pleased to meet you" or even, "congratulations on your promotion."
It's not how he pictured their first meeting, exactly, but that's all right. Alexei's not exactly what he pictured either.
Schwann Oltorain doesn't feel anything particularly inspiring about being in his presence. Or maybe it's just that he'd been expecting more, after all the stories. The man was a legend, a symbol for the knights, and legends often tended to dull when one looked at them too closely.
"One hell of a war we're fighting here, sir," he says in reply, and inwardly he cringes at what his mother would think if she ever heard her son had sworn in the presence of the famed Commandant Alexei.
Great first impression right there. Well done, Schwann.
Alexei only looks at him with mild interest, so that Schwann feels kind of sized up and kind of like a bug at the same time. It's a little weird, but he'll go with it. A lot worse things have happened since his arrival at Mt. Temza, after all.
"Indeed, Captain," Alexei says finally. "Indeed it is."
*
He remembers what it was like-excitement, fear, lust, all pumping through his veins like a whirlwind and sending his head around in circles.
He is a calmer man, now. Perhaps one better-suited to the ideals of a captain, but he still remembers.
"I thought you'd be pleased," says Alexei, "honored at the very least." There's something different about his voice, Schwann thinks, until he realizes that Alexei's voice is exactly the same as it's always been. What's absent is the thrill-of adrenalin, of other things-that once ran up his spine at the sound of it. "Really Captain Schwann, so few men get a chance at a second life."
"We're going to lose the war, aren't we?" Schwann asks, to distract himself from the pulsing in his chest-red light where there should be movement.
"We've already lost," says Alexei, in his slate grey Commandant's voice. "It is time to turn your eyes to the road ahead, Captain Schwann. Rest up. Your life belongs to me now, and I plan on putting it to good use."
*
Five years pass like ten, and twice that feels like a lifetime. He is an old man at thirty, a respected member of Altosk and trusted by the Don himself.
"What of these guilds?" Alexei murmurs to himself, and Schwann almost tells him to go to hell-the privilege Alexei denied him. That, on top of everything else.
"Do whatever you want." Schwann-Raven now-adjusts the line of his coat idly. Magenta with yellow trim. Raven liked bright colors, he'd decided, and billed the whole wardrobe to the Imperial Knights.
Plus, bright colors offended Alexei's sensibilities and that made him feel all warm and cozy inside.
At least, it would have.
"That tone is unnecessary," Alexei says. "I am not one of those willful children you now travel with."
"Hey," he says, teasing his hair up at the back with both hands. It'll take some getting used to, this new style, but he's willing to commit to the lie. "It's Raven now. Raven."
*
The princess wears little white gloves, and when she takes his hand the soft cotton catches against the calluses on his fingers, his palms.
He can't help wishing Yuri'd taught her to fight a little better, but this lesson is all Raven's to teach. You can't trust everyone. More important than learning how to fight, everybody had to learn what to fight, how to look at the world with that kind of awareness.
It was a kindness he was doing her, but even without a heart he didn't feel exactly right about it.
"I'd have expected you of all people to understand," Alexei says. The sand crunches under his feet, sends up clouds of dust that make Raven want to cough and cough until he can breathe easy again.
Somehow he thinks it's not so simple as all that.
They're standing over the ruins of Yormgen, like archeologists at a dig site, except it's the middle of the night and the ones doing the digging are all soldiers. And how weird is that, that Yormgen is nothing but ruins when he can still smell the yellow flowers blooming, the salt of the sea and Yuefan's perfume.
"That's the sage's house," he says, just to be stubborn.
"The world is in need," Alexei says, ignoring him. "I do not expect others to see it as I do, but I will fix it."
"Awful big decision to make all by yourself, isn't it?" The tone of his voice is offensive, even to his own ears. It's Raven, not Schwann, only he doesn't remember what Schwann sounded like in the first place. Or what words sounded like with conviction behind them.
Passing the time with words is better than passing the time in silence, after all.
"I have made peace with the path I've chosen," Alexei says. The stars above their heads shine like frost gathering on a dark lake. "You ought to do the same."
Raven wants to ask him how it is a man with no heart's supposed to choose anything, let alone a path, but he gets the feeling that not asking those questions is kind of a part of it. Comes a time when every man's got to stand on his own two feet.
Wasn't it Yuri who was always reminding them of that?
"You're going to have one hell of a fight on your hands come morning," Raven says finally, reaching up to scratch his neck. He's not even sure whether he means the kids, or himself, or all of the above.
The Commandant seems to know, though, and isn't that just like him?
"I would expect nothing less," he says, and turns around to go to bed, satisfied. Things will be decided tomorrow, one way or another.
When Raven sleeps, he dreams of Yormgen and the yellow flowers.