Chapter 327: A Shoulder To Lean On.

Chapter 327: Chapter 327: A Shoulder To Lean On.

​"...Ah shit, I wonder if the Second’s heard what happened," Montrel curses aloud; the intersection before Drogger’s office looming up ahead.

It’s convenient timing because that’s exactly what Rogard was thinking.

Ever since they left the infirmary he’s been wondering just how exactly he was going to get to Drogger before the whispers did, and without making himself seem too suspicious.

This is probably the sort of situation Drogger should hear about from him and not the castle rumour-mill, and while he’d wager gold he now doesn’t have that Drogger isn’t the type of person to just believe what he hears, it’s also the sort of thing he’d probably not appreciate finding out second hand.

​"Hmm, probably not; I heard Ynoro saying earlier he’s been holed up all day," Gandy hums with a grimace, and while it’s not quite the perfect opportunity to speak with him alone, Rogard’s been making up worse excuses for weeks now, so he grabs it with both hands.

Maybe a little too desperately, in hindsight.

​"Ah, since we’re here, how about I go and catch him up?" Rogard offers innocently, and would really, really appreciate it if Khobi kept his face to himself.

Unfortunately, his brilliant plan gets foiled when Montrel says that they’ll wait for him. "No need," he waves him away, scrunching up his nose, "You guys go on ahead.

I just remembered that there’s actually something else I wanted to talk to master about, anyways."

​Khobi , can you stop ?

​"Seriously?" Gandy snorts in disbelief.

"You’re already thinking about training?"

​"What can I say, I’m a dedicated soldier,"

Rogard sniffs, just the right amount of playful and offensive to not raise suspicions, "Unlike some people."

​"Brat," Montrel snorts, not meaning it, "C’mon, can’t it wait? We’re not gonna just ditch you after you got beaten up –" Uh, rude. He did not get beaten up. " –Captain will understand if you’re not at training tomorrow."

He appreciates the support; really, truly, honestly he does, but he really needs to talk to Drogger. Alone, ideally.

​And so he turns to the only person here who can give him an out.

​"Khobi...?" he says, expression hopeful. It’s a plea and a confession all bundled up into one little word, and it makes Khobi raise an eyebrow.

A judgemental one, at that.

​Need to talk to Drogger, huh , it what it seems to say.

​Fine, you caught me, he glares back.

​Khobi snorts. It sounds a lot like, I knew it .

​Meaningfully, Rogard glares back at him.

​Quit gloating, and help me out here.

​Khobi’s eyebrow twitches, but he sighs and shrugs out of Rogard’s grip.

​"...It’s fine," he says, straightening up and testing out a couple of tentative steps.

His knee looks like it’s giving him a bit of trouble, but he soldiers on, adding, "Rogard can handle himself. We don’t need to babysit him."

​" –That’s not the point," Gandy gripes, but Khobi is already limping off down the hallway, waving back at him, "...We’ll see you at dinner, yeah?"

​"Yeah," Rogard assures them, already turning to split off down the opposite corridor, "I’ll be there soon."

...

When the knock comes, Drogger immediately wants to hurl something at it.

As it is, the only things within reach are things he needs so he has to settle with scrubbing a hand back through his hair in irritation.

What part of don’t let anyone disturb me was so difficult to understand?

​"Come back later," he grinds out, for what feels like the eight hundredth time today.

He stopped being polite about it about seven hundred iterations ago.

He knows that holding court is part of the king’s duty, and he knows that sending out aid to even the most far flung corners of the kingdom is part of maintaining said kingdom, and as a Captain he is happy to deal with it, but he would appreciate being given some damn time to do so.

"I’m busy !"

​Whoever it is either is either deaf or has a death wish, because the door creaks open anyways.

​Always a bad move. He already has a thousand requests to sort through.

​" –What did I just say?" he growls, reaching for his cup of tea.

​And then he looks up to see just what kind of idiot has disobeyed a direct order.

​It’s Rogard.

​And he’s covered in blood.

​"...Hi, master," he greets weakly, and Drogger’s cup hits the ground and shatters.

He’s out of his chair so fast it tips; feet carrying him the full length of the room in only seconds so that he can put his hands on Rogard’s face and in his hair, skimming and tracing, touching the bruises and cuts.

The blood’s dried, and it doesn’t seem to all belong to him, but shit .

​"Rogard," he whispers, holding him at arm’s length so that he can look up into his face, "...What happened ?" It’s not a good sign that Rogard doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

​"...I uh, got in a fight?" Rogard offers sheepishly.

​"A fight," Drogger echoes flatly, because while that’s exactly what it looks like and he’s used to seeing him with scraps and cuts from training, it’s never been anything quite like this.

Rogard looks an absolute wreck, and none of the fights he’s gotten into at the training grounds have ever left him looking so burnt out. Not like this.

" With who ?" Rogard swallows, fidgeting with one of the buttons on Drogger’s shirt so that he has something to do with his hands.

​"...My father’s guards."

​Drogger doesn’t understand.

​"His guards," he repeats on a whisper, "Why would –"

​"I walked out," Rogard says quietly, voice uncharacteristically small as his hands start to curl into the fabric of Drogger’s shirt, "...I finally walked away from him. And he didn’t like that."

​Oh.

​" Rogard ."

​At the sound of his name, Rogard lets out a choking breath, and that’s all Drogger can stand before he reaches out and takes him in his arms; wrapping his arms tight around him and holding him close so that he knows that he’s here.

And just like that Rogard deflates, sagging into him like there’s no energy left in him to hold him up, and it suddenly strikes Drogger just how hard that must have been; how much he’s been holding in and holding back and bearing all by himself.

​His arms tighten.

​No more.

​"Are you okay?" he asks, reaching up to run a hand through Rogard’s blonde hair. It’s crusty with dirt and dried blood.

After a beat, Rogard nods, then sighs into the crook of his neck as he returns Drogger’s embrace.

​"I also...might have told him," he adds, apologetically, "...About you, and me. I think he snapped. A little."

​At that, Drogger pulls back just enough to give Rogard an incredulous look.

​"You tol... Without –" Drogger can’t comprehend this. He hadn’t really believed that Rogard’s father would try something the way Rogard was convinced he would, but he’d been hoping they could tell him together.

So he could be there, if something did happen. " Rogard , what were you thinking? Why would you --" Rogard just chuckles and gives him an apologetic smile.

​"Who knows~" he chirps on a sigh, "Father was...being father and...I guess this is what they mean when they say that love makes people do strange things~"

​Drogger’s immediately heart fails him.

​"... Love?" The word falls from Drogger’s lips in a whisper. Does Rogard...?

​He had no idea.

​Rogard immediately curls in on himself and looks away, like he’s only just realised what he’s said, and Drogger hates the way he feels like he still has to pretend, like this.

​"Oh, did I say love...?" he chuckles weakly, and Drogger reaches up to cup his cheek, heart hammering, and a helpless smile spreads across his face and up into his eyes.

​"Yes, Spidra," he says evenly, so that Rogard knows that it’s fine. That he can feel whatever it is he’s feeling without fear, or shame, or whatever it is he’s feeling now. "You did."

​Rogard .

​(Rogard never knew it was possible for his name to sound like that. For someone to say his name like that.)

​"...Sorry, master," he murmurs, forehead feebly dropping down onto his shoulder, "I didn’t mean to..."

​"What are you apologising for, idiot?" Drogger snorts gruffly, extracting him from the crook of his neck just enough that he can brush a lock of his hair back off his face.

His brow pinches as he finds a new scrape there, already starting to mottle into an ugly purple.

​" I don’t know ," Rogard confesses, voice hitching and his lip starting to quiver.

Drogger sighs and leans forwards just enough that their foreheads lightly knock together. It takes a moment, but eventually he feels him start to relax. "Master?" he ventures after a long moment.

​"Mhmm?"

​"...Would it be all right if I stayed with you tonight?"

​"Of course," Drogger tells him, and pulls him back into a tight embrace, "For as long as you like."

​"...Forever?" Rogard ventures quietly, voice small and cheeky, but at the same time just that little bit hopeful.

Drogger sighs again, but the look that accompanies it is fond and earnest and reassuring.

​" For as long as you like ."