Fe Aspec Week Day 1: Coming Out
WOO It's aspec week time!! 💜💚 To no one's surprise I'm starting off with Lukas :3 I know we have the wonderful support convo when he and Python sort of come out to each other, but I was always curious about the loose ends that it brings up -- how he comes out to/is treated by his family, the woman he's left behind, his fellow nobles, etc. This drabble doesn't really answer any of those questions sadfsadf but it's coming from that thought 😂
Father,
I am writing to you now, so soon after my previous letter, as there is something I have yet to confess. It may be difficult for you to hear, but
The sentence stops abruptly, a small dab of ink at the corner of the ‘t’ where the pen had rested a moment in contemplation.
A man sits back at his at a desk. His candle illuminates the page, displaying a few brief lines at the top. He dips his pen in ink time and time again, but the page remains mostly empty.
At first, the man believes his problem to be a lack of words. No title exists for men like him. He’s well-educated and well-connected in the army; he has an extensive vocabulary for how the upper and lower class categorizes its people. Whether it’s a scholar’s dull terminology, vulgar common language insults, or the carefully chosen phrasing of a gossiper, none of the usual descriptors fit him. All he has are the distantly connected criticisms he’d heard his whole life: “heartless,” “cold,” “detached.”
When the candle burns lower, however, he realizes the real issue. He has far too many words.
Where would he even start? Should he describe his contentment with his life here? How not one of his fellows ever brought up the lack of a woman at his arm, or how dinners with the King and Queen themselves were filled with pleasantries that never touched on his romantic endeavors? Whatever his father had been preparing for, it had never come.
Or should he begin earlier, when he was first accepted by this group of people? He wasn’t sure if he could properly convey all that he experienced on that fateful night, speaking softly with the unit’s archer – a man he’d come to call one of his truest friends. The man had heard for the first time in his life that there were others like him. He heard that they were content. They were whole.
He could go back further and describe the moment that the realization first hit him. How his father had been right in a sense. Just as he said, one day when the man was grown, he would be in the arms of another, and everything about himself would suddenly make sense. There was only one difference. He’d been forced to bury that clarity, since it wasn’t the same kind that everyone else came to.
Or should he start even further back? He could recount all little hints that haunted him across his youth. His dreams for the future never quite aligned with those of his peers. Nothing ever seemed to align. His choice of stories to read, of games to play, of jokes to make. He wouldn’t ever claim he was mistreated as a child, but everyone would agree that the signs had appeared even then.
The man sighs. Where is the beginning, when one has always been this way?
The clock strikes on the hour. It is late, and he will need to be at his sharpest tomorrow for drills and meetings. He has no more time to fret over words about his past.
The man tries a new method, and wonders what his friends may write about him. He can’t resist a dry smile. He knows that he can never, under any circumstance, allow them to exchange any correspondence with his family.
But the exercise gives him an idea.
He writes out a single statement. Then he blows out the candle and heads to his bed.
there is nothing broken about me.
Cordially,
Lukas
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kliff and the friends
last minute submission for day two of @fe-aspec-week 2024!! this one is a little thrown together because i had an idea at the last minute but! here goes!!
—
Kliff has never been particularly fond of other people.
He used to think he just got unlucky, stuck in a tiny village where no one understood the concept of personal space. He dreamed of the day he’d escape them, get out, go anywhere but here, and meet people who were actually decent.
Then he started going to school in the next town over, and with each new person he met, that dream died in front of him. Each and every one of them—over-familiar like Gray, clumsy like Tobin, naive like Alm, or disgustingly romantic like Faye. He hated it. He came back to Ram Village with a disappointed letter from his teacher and a new will to tolerate these idiots so he could safely ignore the rest. He might not fit in, but at least they know him well enough to leave him alone while he’s reading.
—
The war comes on suddenly, like a storm rolling in overnight, and things change. Kliff learns what fire spells can do to a human being, and Gray stops joking about hitting Tobin with his sword, and Faye picks up a lance for the first time, insisting she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her friends. Tolerable acquaintances become battle-allies, people you can trust to have your back. People who could die beside you, any day. There’s no room out here for petty bickering, but sometimes it also feels like there’s no room to get attached.
When the war is over, Kliff thinks, they’ll go their separate ways. He probably won’t even miss them.
—
Tobin flags him down at camp one day. “Hey, Kliff!”
He rolls his eyes. “Tobin. I thought you knew not to interrupt me while I’m studying.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have questions about magic! That counts as study time, right?”
Now Kliff is intrigued, though he refuses to give Tobin the satisfaction. “Since when do you care about magic? I thought it was too complicated for you.”
Tobin settles beside him, keeping a safe distance, but not bothering to ask whether he minds the company. “Well, I don’t really get it. But I want to learn. You know—for the war.”
He sighs. “I don’t know what Alm or Gray did this time, but you’re better with a bow than you’re ever going to be with magic. Focus on getting better at that.”
“Healing magic,” Tobin corrects. “I want to learn healing.”
“What? Why?”
“C’mon, seriously? I’m worried about you guys! I want us to go back to Ram when this is all over—all of us, together. Even if we’re not all planning to stay.”
“…All right, then. I can try to teach you.” Kliff grins. “Though I wouldn’t count on your ability to learn it.”
—
Faye catches him off guard in the middle of an overcrowded mess hall. She’s saying something, but he can’t understand her over the din of too many hungry soldiers. Eventually, she gives up and beckons to the door.
Kliff follows her, plate in hand, out to the cool night air. “What was that for?”
She shrugs. “You looked like you wanted to go outside.”
“I—” He pauses. Mess hall never used to bother him more than any other time around camp, but now that they’ve been getting more recruits, it has been getting louder and louder. He’s never liked loud noises, either. “I guess I did.”
Faye walks a little farther away from the tent, towards the woods. He follows her, and they settle together at the forest’s edge—still in earshot of the camp, but safely away from the clamor of the mess hall.
“I miss Ram,” Faye says quietly, after they’ve been eating for a bit. “Seeing this many people in one place reminds me how far we are from home.”
Kliff snorts. “It just reminds me of school. They always crammed too many people into the common areas for lunch.”
“So you didn’t like leaving then, either?”
“I liked going to school,” he answers. “I didn’t like the people there.”
“What kind of people do you like?”
He thinks on this. “The quiet kind.”
Faye smiles and nods. They eat the rest of their meal in silence.
—
Gray looks out for him during fights.
At first he’s convinced Gray is just showing off, jumping in dramatically and kicking down a mage in mid-chant before they can fire another spell at Kliff. But then it happens a second time, and a third time, and Kliff is more than certain that it’s intentional.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Kliff says, the next time Gray takes a blow for him.
“Do what?” Gray asks. “Look super cool while I’m saving the day?”
Kliff regrets that Gray is too focused on the battle to see him roll his eyes. “Protect me. I can look out for myself.”
“Oh, that? I’m just practicing for next time one of the girls needs saving.” Gray pauses to skewer another incoming mage. “Gotta keep my skills sharp and all that!”
“Gray, I’m serious. Can you stop joking around?” Kliff fires off another spell, stopping an approaching cavalier in their tracks. Now there are no more distractions—Gray will have to talk to him.
Gray turns to face him. “Look, I know you can take it, okay? But that’s not your job. If you’re up in the front lines taking hits, you won’t have the energy to cast your spells. So you do your job, and I’ll do mine, yeah?”
He sighs. “Fine.”
“Great! Now how about a ‘thank you’ for saving your ass?”
“In your dreams.”
—
Alm brings him a book from town.
“Here,” he says, unloading it off a pile of rations and weapons. “They had this on sale at one of the booths. I thought you might get some use out of it.”
Kliff inspects it. It’s a neatly-bound red tome, with gold embossing on the front. It looks well-used, but it’s holding together nevertheless. He flips it open, skimming the table of contents, and frowns.
“I hate to break it to you, but this is a book on magical theory. It’s not going to teach me anything I don’t already know about battle casting.”
Alm looks a little offended. “I know,” he says. “I just figured you would like it. You liked learning about magic at school, didn’t you?”
“I did, but—” He frowns again, turning the book over anxiously in his hands. “We’re in the middle of a war. Did you spend army funds on this?”
“Don’t worry, I spent my own money on it. No funds wasted.”
“But—” Kliff stammers. “Why? What’s the point? What do you get out of this?”
Alm sighs. “It’s just a gift. We may be at war, but we’re still people. I want you guys to be happy—at least, when we’re not having to kill people.”
“Oh,” Kliff says. “Uh. Thanks.”
Alm smiles, bright as ever. “Any time.”
—
The war continues, and Kliff keeps dreaming about the places he’ll go once he’s free to travel as he pleases. He’s not sure what kind of people he’ll meet out there, but—he thinks—if they’re anything like the ones he met in Ram Village, he hasn’t got anything to worry about. Other people may be unpleasant—clumsy, naive, romantic, and over-familiar—but they’re still worth knowing, every once in a while.
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