"Oh, you say that now, but they grow up so fast," Rook teased as he turned his head to lightly kiss the bend of Emmrich's leg just above his kneecap. "A marvel and testament to Davrin's hard work that bird hasn't gone chewing on Manfred's tibia."
Then Emmrich went into colorful detail about his life back in the Necropolis. Rook was lulled into feeling as though he were being told a story while trying to picture every detail in his mind. All the while, he couldn't quite help the sinking feeling in his gut. The apartments sounded wonderful, with how Emmrich described them, and he had no doubt they were as comforting and homey as the older man conveyed it. Rook had even chuckled when he cottoned on to Emmrich's emphasis on how sturdy the furniture was.
All of it told as if Emmrich were at his home's threshold, holding the door open to invite Rook in. That was what gave Rook pause, his hand flexing over the rumbled bedsheet in thought.
— It was beneath the earth, out of the sun, no matter how many tapers and candelabras adorned it. Rook would take a difficult day with the sun beating down on his back rather than an easy one in the dark. He liked visiting the Memorial gardens because Emmrich loved them, and the man's affections for anything beyond Rook's understanding were infectious and terribly endearing.
But life with miles of rock above my head? Good practice for the Deep Roads. The thought came unbidden, and the moment it settled in his mind, Rook's heart lurched. That was unkind, and Emmrich's lack of subtlety was genuine and made a warm feeling pool in his chest. Rook was being ridiculous if (—when) they came to that fork in the road, and it wasn't as if Emmrich would keep him down there like a canary in a mine.
"Close to the kitchens? You'd want for nothing," Rook said full well knowing he'd be the bane of its staff whenever his condition demanded he be fed as if he were a one-man standing army.
"It sounds lovely," and Rook meant it as he stamped down his fears.
Emmrich roused him from his overthinking with a gentle pat on his head. Rook obliged by sitting himself upright onto his knees, waiting patiently for Emmrich to lay back down again. Once he had, Rook situated himself where his upper body was between Emmrich's legs, his head pillowed on the other man's sternum, and his own legs curled up so they weren't hanging off the edge of the bed. This was how Rook preferred to sleep when he could. Despite the disparity in their size and weight, Rook liked to listen to Emmrich's steady heartbeat while holding him. For his part, Emmrich was less restless in his sleep with Rook on top of him.
no subject
Then Emmrich went into colorful detail about his life back in the Necropolis. Rook was lulled into feeling as though he were being told a story while trying to picture every detail in his mind. All the while, he couldn't quite help the sinking feeling in his gut. The apartments sounded wonderful, with how Emmrich described them, and he had no doubt they were as comforting and homey as the older man conveyed it. Rook had even chuckled when he cottoned on to Emmrich's emphasis on how sturdy the furniture was.
All of it told as if Emmrich were at his home's threshold, holding the door open to invite Rook in. That was what gave Rook pause, his hand flexing over the rumbled bedsheet in thought.
— It was beneath the earth, out of the sun, no matter how many tapers and candelabras adorned it. Rook would take a difficult day with the sun beating down on his back rather than an easy one in the dark. He liked visiting the Memorial gardens because Emmrich loved them, and the man's affections for anything beyond Rook's understanding were infectious and terribly endearing.
But life with miles of rock above my head? Good practice for the Deep Roads. The thought came unbidden, and the moment it settled in his mind, Rook's heart lurched. That was unkind, and Emmrich's lack of subtlety was genuine and made a warm feeling pool in his chest. Rook was being ridiculous if (—when) they came to that fork in the road, and it wasn't as if Emmrich would keep him down there like a canary in a mine.
"Close to the kitchens? You'd want for nothing," Rook said full well knowing he'd be the bane of its staff whenever his condition demanded he be fed as if he were a one-man standing army.
"It sounds lovely," and Rook meant it as he stamped down his fears.
Emmrich roused him from his overthinking with a gentle pat on his head. Rook obliged by sitting himself upright onto his knees, waiting patiently for Emmrich to lay back down again. Once he had, Rook situated himself where his upper body was between Emmrich's legs, his head pillowed on the other man's sternum, and his own legs curled up so they weren't hanging off the edge of the bed. This was how Rook preferred to sleep when he could. Despite the disparity in their size and weight, Rook liked to listen to Emmrich's steady heartbeat while holding him. For his part, Emmrich was less restless in his sleep with Rook on top of him.
"Can't wait to see it."