marlowemuses | Fools in Love, for gentry

Gansey was all right with the quiet. It allowed him some time to think—over time, he supposed, he could soften how Laurent felt about the situation. How that being naive was not the worst thing in the world; those who took advantage, those who manipulated trust, those who used their power for nefarious purposes were the ones to blame. But, they both knew that their positions didn't allow for too much dreaming. Gansey was the kind of man that wanted to believe anything. The royal blood in him, however, compelled him to see the logic in what Laurent had to say. Neither of them could afford to be taken advantage of.

He continued to brush Laurent's hair with his fingers. When he heard who it was, Gansey pressed his lips together again. It was a sticky situation. His uncle? Civil war was no laughing matter. Especially against such a strong opponent—it was almost enough to make Gansey curse, and he never cursed. It was decidedly uncivil.

"You'll be my husband," he said, curling a lock of hair around his finger, "and once we're married, my kingdom is yours. You'll have our full support." There was no doubt in his mind that his mother would feel the same, assuming that Laurent remained true to them. Assuming Laurent would win the favor of the kingdom (and no doubt he would, charming thing), the people would be fully on board with supporting the king's consort.

Their fingers wound together and Gansey squeezed Laurent's hand to assure him, "I will stand with you through anything."

"The symbol of you should be more than enough, along with an entourage befitting a visiting royal heir and his husband." Laurent kissed his cheek, quickly warming to the idea of justice if he had such strong odds of winning.

Brow furrowing slightly with thought, Laurent studied his face. "You've changed me," he said, surprised by the realization. "In just a few days. You've utterly won my trust and coaxed me to discard my defenses. With you, I'm always safe, always adored. And it has changed me."

Bemused and awed, Laurent kissed him with soft reverence. "I love you," he murmured against Gansey's lips, grounded again in trust and love for Gansey.

Gansey's lips finally quirked back into a smile, returning the kiss with equal reverence. He was inclined to follow whatever Laurent thought best; it was his home, and he knew how sharp the barbs were. At the very least, Henry would be happy to hear that they would be going on a trip. If there was anyone to take along, it was that one.

Tracing along the side of Laurent's face with gentle fingers, Gansey leaned in to give his fiance another soft, adoring kiss. "I love you too." Laurent was the first one he ever said those words to—beside his family, of course, but it was a vastly different kind of love. And if Gansey had his way, Laurent would be the last person he'd say them to.

"I'm giving you nothing less than you deserve. You should always be adored and loved. As your lover, it's my privilege to give it to you." Certainly so, if the puppy dog eyes he gave Laurent all too often were any indication of how much affection he truly had. The fact that he now knew that Laurent had suffered so much at the hands of his uncle... it made Gansey want to give him more love and affection than ever before.

"You've changed me too, you know. I've never felt so—attached to anyone before. I didn't know my feelings could be so strong." Tugging their twined hands up, Gansey pressed Laurent's hand to his chest, so that his lover's palm was flat over where his heart was beating. "You're what I've been looking for, for so many years. The piece of my heart that was missing."

Laurent smiled at the words, utterly charmed. His cheeks flushed, staring at Gansey and then dropping his eyes shyly, but he couldn't bear to look away for long. Within moments his eyes were drawn back up, grinning irrepressibly as he watched his lover.

"You should probably put a shirt on," Laurent said, though his fingertips traced idle circles on Gansey's chest as he said so. "Much as I shall hate to lose the view. We ought to get some kind of dinner. And see the tailor, if I haven't completely drained the working hours of the day."

"As you wish," he said with a smile, reaching out for his tunic. Much as he would love to lounge around and embrace Laurent for the rest of the evening, there were things to be done. Surprises to be had. And he would not want his morning excursion to go to waste.

Moving so he could pull on his shirt, he continued, "The tailor would not mind at all, even if he decided to retire for the evening. One look at you and he'll be begging to put you in some of the latest fashions." Gansey laughed, "I'm rather old-school, I guess you could say. My choices bore him to tears. Ah, or maybe the tears aren't from boredom." Gansey often dressed like he was well into his golden years, when he had to dress up. Classic, he called it. Old, Helen called it.

"And we'll sneak something from the kitchens before we head out." Stretching, finally fully dressed with even a pair of shoes, he offered Laurent his arm so they might head down to the main hall.

"What colors do you wear? Mostly blues?"

"Mostly blues," Laurent confirmed, as they tidied themselves up and prepared to leave the room. "Blue and gold are the colors of the Veretian heirs, with full gold for the king. I've always worn a very dark blue, because it makes me look untouchable. I suppose I might branch out a bit, here. Are there any colors I should favor or avoid, for political reasons?"

He was pleased at the prospect of being fashionably dressed, and hadn't forgotten the promised surprise. He had a strong suspicion as to what it was, but would never want to spoil Gansey's surprise by hinting as much. Especially since he had a surprise of his own just waiting for Gansey to put his hand into his pocket.

They headed down the spiral stairs together. Gansey gave the question some thought, "Our colors are generally greens and silvers. The King and Queen usually wear something green—even if it's merely an accent piece. There are occasions when we are expected to wear all white or all black."

Once they reached the bottom, Gansey held the door open for Laurent and then closed it behind them, making way down the hall toward the tailor's rooms. Yet to stick his hand in his pocket, the young prince remained unaware of what playful scheme Laurent had pulled.

"We tend to avoid red. It has a long history of being worn by rebels or kingdoms we've been at war with. Not that it's never worn, of course, but we at the very least tend to stay away from it."

From the smells wafting down the hall, dinner was almost ready to be served. They turned away from the hustle and bustle of the court and the dining hall, however. The tailor was not too far from there, for the sake of convenience.

"I think you would look very lovely in any color you decide to wear."

"Good thing I don't much like red," Laurent said, turning pale and shuddering a bit. He was glad to be distracted by the smell of food, and smiled as they arrived at the tailor's workroom.

All smiles and charm as he entered, Laurent allowed Gansey to make introductions, then began to chat with the tailor with what he wanted and the colors and fabrics he preferred. He wanted mostly outdoor clothing that the two of them could go riding and adventuring in, but that would be suitable if they were called into a formal situation. Happy to try some of the more adventurous fashions, Laurent approved several designs. The tailor made quick work of his measurements, and then they were free again.

Relaxing once the measurements were done, Laurent hugged Gansey again, cuddling into his arms.

Gansey was content to allow Laurent to take control once the introductions were made. Standing back, that was when he slipped his hands into his pockets to relax against the wall. With an arched eyebrow he took the small square of paper from his pocket—he didn't think he had anything in them—and looked at the note. It made him smile instantly. What a sly cat, indeed. When had he done that?

Gently, Gansey folded the note again and returned it to his pocket. It was something he would keep. The idea that there might be more didn't even cross his mind.

When Laurent finally returned to his arms, he buried his face into his lover's hair. "I love you too," he said, quite happily, leaving a light kiss against his lover's forehead once he pulled back enough to do so. "How about we grab some food and head to the gardens? There's still a surprise I want to give you."

Upon Laurent's agreement, he offered his arm once more and lead the way to the kitchens. They were busy, at the height of meal time, but Gansey was able to snag a few plates of food and slide them into a basket that they could steal away. "I usually don't like to eat dinner with the court," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "I make enough appearances to satisfy them, and then spend the rest of the time on my own."

Laurent smiled happily as he was embraced and kissed, pleased that Gansey had found his little note.

Keeping hold of Gansey at all times for reassurance, Laurent took the basket, hooking Gansey's arm around his waist and stealing a sweet kiss. "Now to the gardens," he said, forgetting all about their earlier conversation and anything in the world that might cast a shadow upon their love.

He kept the basket away from any gallant attempts to take it from him, grinning and stealing kisses. "Your hands have better things to do," he teased, bumping his hip against Gansey's and almost tripping them both up out of playful enthusiasm.

He was still laughing as they tumbled out into the gardens, blushing but unabashed by the amused look they got from some passing courtiers.

Of course he tried to grab the basket. However, it was deftly held away from him, despite his best attempts to snag it. Not that his lover didn't make a most excellent point; Gansey laughed, hooking one hand around Laurent's hips so that he might playfully tug him close, one bump not quite good enough.

Gansey paid no mind to the amused courtiers, focused on teasing his fiance. There were plenty of young lovers that tripped around the gardens in laughter, grabbing one another and sharing kisses. It was, in fact, one of the oldest traditions of the castle. Why else have beautiful gardens if you weren't going to enjoy them?

And enjoy them they would. Gansey lead Laurent through the maze-like bushes to the heart of it all, where there was a grand tree with a wooden swing hanging from the branches. It was a swing large enough to fit two. Gently, he dropped down onto one side, and pat the seat beside him so Laurent might sit as well.

"This is mainly where I take care of the flowers," he said, glancing out at the blooming roses and lilies. It had grown dark since their last excursion outside; now, they had the moon and lanterns to light the area, along with fireflies.

"It's beautiful," Laurent said, taking his seat and lifting his feet off the ground. He leaned against Gansey's side, securing his arm only loosely around the cord on his side of the swing and otherwise trusting to Gansey to keep him safe. Smiling, he gazed out across the garden, admiring the beauty of the place by moonlight. It was a far more serene experience than anything in his life before. Romantic, and what a simple pleasure it was to have a little romance in his life. "I feel entirely addled with love," he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment to enjoy the warmth of Gansey pressed beside him.

"Good," Gansey said, resting his palm against the small of Laurent's back. "That's the idea." While Gansey had never been much of a romantic in practice before... he wanted to try. For Laurent. Even if he was more or less a dusty scholar who spent too much time with his mind on the far past, even he could clean up quite nicely. It was so much better than playing along and pretending, as he'd always done before. This time, it felt genuine.

Reaching into the basket, Gansey helped himself to a hot roll of bread, biting into the warm little loaf quietly. While he ate, he was content to enjoy the quiet of the garden and the gentle breath of his fiancee beside him.

Finishing up the loaf, he licked some crumbs off of his thumb before he asked, "Would you like your surprise now?"

Laurent leaned over for a couple of bites of the bread, chewing contentedly. After Gansey licked his thumb clean, Laurent idly offered his own hand to be licked, smiling playfully.

"Yes, please," he murmured, kissing Gansey's neck just along the hairline, all secretive smiles as his breath teased Gansey's skin.

Oh, giving Gansey the chance to suck Laurent's fingers was dangerous. But the boy managed to behave, leaning on to catch those lovely, slender fingers between his lips and suck on them gently, lolling his tongue playfully against the pads.

The kiss to his neck, right there—it was one of his more sensitive spots and he almost shivered right on the spot. It was highly distracting. Enough so that he had to remind himself that Laurent had answered him; there was a gift to give, and no time for him to sit around gaping.

"I—" he breathed, blinking slowly, reaching for the pocket against his chest. "Yes. Here." Out of it he tugged a small blue silk bag, with a silver ribbon tied around its top, keeping it closed. With care, he pressed the package into Laurent's hands so he might open it.

Inside was a locket. Golden in color and fairly simple at first glance. The chain was smooth as silk and quite fine, delicate yet strong. The heart was about the size of a thumbnail and, along its outside, were finely detailed roses and leaves. A one of a kind locket, painstakingly designed.

"So even when we're parted, you'll know that you always have my heart," Gansey explained, green eyes glittering in moonlight. Cheesy? Absolutely.

Laurent smiled with delight at the locket, letting it dangle against his palm as he admired it. "May we never be parted," he murmured, turning his head to kiss Gansey's throat again. His own heart was pounding, and he pressed closer, feeling his chest ache with vulnerability and affection.

"It's lovely, Gansey." Unable to look away from studying the details of the little heart, he felt along the edge to see if there was a clasp. Veretian lockets, he knew, would be designed with a secret compartment.

Gansey liked it very much when Laurent kissed his neck like that. With a soft hum of adoration, Gansey watched as his fiance studied the details of the heart. What would a locket be without a secret compartment? There was a small clasp so that it could be opened, leaving enough room for something very small inside. Anything about the size of a thumbnail.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, folding his hands on his lap as he watched his lover. In the moonlight, the other man looked sublime. "I considered giving you something more traditional but... when we're married, you'll receive the signet ring, along with the family band. It's all very political—this can just be for us."

Closing the gap between them, Gansey pressed an affectionate, light kiss against Laurent's temple.

Laurent smiled, glowing with affection and trust. He tugged at Gansey's hands, displeased that they were resting in Gansey's lap rather than hugging and touching him. "Put it on me, please?"

Turning, Laurent lifted his chin to offer his neck, leaning back against Gansey. He held up the ends of the locket, trusting Gansey to put it on him. "I love it, Gansey. Thank you."

Laughing, Gansey took the delicate chain between his fingers and reached out so that he might clasp it around Laurent's lovely neck. Draping it around his lover's collarbone and then gently lifting it up, he hooked the latch in the back and then smoothed the necklace down, admiring how well the color played off of the fair color of Laurent's hair.

"It looks very nice," he murmured, dipping his head so that he could press a kiss against the nape of Laurent's neck. It had struck him that this needed to belong to his fiance; he'd seen it in a shop in town a few months back and thought it charming, and when he had thought of a gift, it was the first thing that spring to mind. Like something had made him see it on purpose, already knowing who it was supposed to be for.

Wrapping his arms around Laurent's arms loosely, Gansey smiled. "You're welcome." It was his pleasure, truly, to lavish his fiance with gifts. That was new for him as well—wanting to give someone something out of genuine affection, and not merely obligation. Even his own family teetered between the two sometimes.

"I don't think I've ever been happier." He said that after a moment's hesitation, slow with words. "I'm almost afraid for tomorrow to come."

Languid and comfortable, Laurent toyed with the little locket, considering the hollow within and debating what he wanted to put there. The warmth of Gansey's arms and affection lulled him, and he let his eyes go low-lidded, disinclined to move.

"Tomorrow?" Laurent asked, lifting his head with concern. "Why? What is happening tomorrow?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe everything."

Gansey was also quite disinclined to move. The weight and warmth of Laurent in his arms was nothing short of amazing. "But I don't want this moment to end," he sighed, a tad dramatic, rubbing the curve of his cheek against Laurent's shoulder.

"I would very much like to stay like this with you forever." Time, sadly, would keep going. Going and going—and if Laurent was with him, he was okay with it. But a man was allowed some selfish dreams.

"What do you mean, maybe nothing, maybe everything?" Laurent squirmed against him, displeased at the prospect of there being something of significance that he didn't know about. He sat up partway, twisting so that he could study Gansey's face. "Gansey, I don't like surprises that aren't gifts. What's happening tomorrow?"

"There are no surprises," he promised. "I'm merely thinking about the inevitable flow of time, how incredibly linear it is, and how one will never know what the next day will bring. Pointless musings." He shrugged, "I'm sorry if I worried you. A bit of a bad habit, those."

And a hard one to shake when one was prone to idle anxiety. Not an altogether crushing sensation, but one that lapped like waves on the shore, gently eating away at the bank.

Glancing away from his fiance, he studied the moon, big and bright against the dark sky. "Times like these... I wish I could freeze them, or hold them in my hands. But there's no mastering something so much greater than ourselves. It makes me feel small—humbles me, if you will." Looking back to Laurent, Gansey offered a sheepish smile.

"Sorry. Rambling."

Laurent sighed, his own wave of panic subsiding once he was reassured that there were no surprises. Frustrated, he sank back against Gansey's shoulder, resting his head there. Gansey's baseless worrying irritated him--Laurent always figured he had plenty of real problems to worry about, why waste energy on possibilities?--but it was a small enough pet peeve to endure.

"What if time isn't linear?" Laurent said, in hopes of derailing Gansey's train of thought back into more positive territory. "I've encountered cultures where the concept of time doesn't exist at all. You can't hold it, or touch it, or see it. It doesn't matter. It just distracts you."

Turning his head, Laurent kissed the side of Gansey's throat, letting his lips linger a moment too long, warm with promise. "From this," he murmured, breath warm against the skin.

"Tomorrow," Laurent said, rising to his feet and shooting Gansey a tempting smile. "I was planning to ask you to tie my wrists and suck my cock. But if you stay in this moment forever, you'll never get there."

He took a step backward, all playful temptation. "Your choice."

It was an interesting prospect. Time not mattering, that it was merely a distraction, and he considered it. Very Gansey-like; always entertaining the possible and impossible, the likely and the unlikely. He wasn't sure how he felt about the notion that if it could not be touched it didn't matter—he would argue that things such as love and memories were also similar but they mattered quite deeply.

Would, of course. Would. Time as a distraction was a question. Laurent as a distraction was a certainty. Especially talking like that.

Which was why Gansey's mouth opened and closed quite uselessly for a good minute before he managed to tug on the collar of his tunic and clear his throat.

"A rather simple one," he admitted, gaze flicking from the ground up to Laurent, mesmerized as always. That was one way to win a debate that hadn't even really started. One day, he decided, he would somehow manage to be the one making Laurent wonder if the room had gotten several degrees hotter.

For now, he was a pile of putty in his lover's hands. A thing he honestly did not mind.

Laurent stepped back and Gansey stood, attempting to catch his love around the waist.

"I will always choose you."

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