[ Admittedly, it's easier to convince Leo than he expects. But Laslow's not about to complain, not when he feels so happy and is desperately chasing away the thoughts of this only being a good (for once) dream.
Leo's hand feels heavy against his back, but its weight is comforting. Concrete. Real. He falls forward easily, arms wrapping around his torso to hold him. ] ... Thanks. [ Not really having a comfortable place to rest his head, he leans it gently against Leo's and inhales deeply.
They’re alive. Weeks - months, maybe even years from recovering from the war, sure. But they still draw breath. That's enough for now.
Without thinking, he squeezes Leo tighter - and instantly regrets it, as his body screams in protest and he winces. ] Ah- [ For the record, armor really is uncomfortable against nearly fatal wounds. He laughs sheepishly and settles back in the comfortable but loose embrace. ] I'm fine, I'm fine. [ A quick response, to assuage Leo's worries.
The words become a mantra - I'm fine. I'm fine. - over the subsequent weeks, as he spends days drifting in and out of consciousness, as he returns to the quarters where he and Peri dwelled (he doesn't touch anything of hers. can't bring himself to do it. tells all the staff to leave it be, he'll get to it eventually), as Camilla takes her leave with Beruka and Serena in tow (his heart aches, watching the two wyverns with their riders take to the skies, and he only imagines Leo feels worse), as he regains his strength and is officially sworn as Leo’s third retainer. Sometimes it's a lie to chase off worries, other times the truth. But usually just a reassurance to himself, to remind himself that the only way now is forward, despite how easily it might be to fall back and dwell on Xander, Elise, and Peri.
It's the same as when his mother and father died, or his friends' parents – think too long, or too hard, and his feet would get stuck in the muck of nostalgia. Now that he has something – someone, too – to work for, he can't afford the luxury of dwelling in the past.
Sure, this means he's not letting himself mourn completely, but it's fine. Right? He's spent far too long dead to the world for his taste.
Having finished his assigned tasks, he knocks firmly on the door to Leo's room. Maybe Leo could give him more busy work, or something. ] Milord, it's Laslow. May I come in?
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Leo's hand feels heavy against his back, but its weight is comforting. Concrete. Real. He falls forward easily, arms wrapping around his torso to hold him. ] ... Thanks. [ Not really having a comfortable place to rest his head, he leans it gently against Leo's and inhales deeply.
They’re alive. Weeks - months, maybe even years from recovering from the war, sure. But they still draw breath. That's enough for now.
Without thinking, he squeezes Leo tighter - and instantly regrets it, as his body screams in protest and he winces. ] Ah- [ For the record, armor really is uncomfortable against nearly fatal wounds. He laughs sheepishly and settles back in the comfortable but loose embrace. ] I'm fine, I'm fine. [ A quick response, to assuage Leo's worries.
The words become a mantra - I'm fine. I'm fine. - over the subsequent weeks, as he spends days drifting in and out of consciousness, as he returns to the quarters where he and Peri dwelled (he doesn't touch anything of hers. can't bring himself to do it. tells all the staff to leave it be, he'll get to it eventually), as Camilla takes her leave with Beruka and Serena in tow (his heart aches, watching the two wyverns with their riders take to the skies, and he only imagines Leo feels worse), as he regains his strength and is officially sworn as Leo’s third retainer. Sometimes it's a lie to chase off worries, other times the truth. But usually just a reassurance to himself, to remind himself that the only way now is forward, despite how easily it might be to fall back and dwell on Xander, Elise, and Peri.
It's the same as when his mother and father died, or his friends' parents – think too long, or too hard, and his feet would get stuck in the muck of nostalgia. Now that he has something – someone, too – to work for, he can't afford the luxury of dwelling in the past.
Sure, this means he's not letting himself mourn completely, but it's fine. Right? He's spent far too long dead to the world for his taste.
Having finished his assigned tasks, he knocks firmly on the door to Leo's room. Maybe Leo could give him more busy work, or something. ] Milord, it's Laslow. May I come in?