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[bardische]

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[massochism]

On the contrary, you haven't troubled me at all. I count myself lucky to have been able to see you for who you really are.

[head shaking, he offers Basch a smile before opening the basket to start taking out the little parcels of food and fruits. it's nothing spectacular, but it's filling and hearty. good enough for a meal and some relaxation, talking as they see fit.]

[bardische]

[ Was this who he was? A wandering, unmoored man with no purpose and no home? His history irrelevant?

It's easier to focus on the food, taking the parcels from Olivine and unwrapping them gently. ]

It's been a long time since someone else prepared my food.

[massochism]

[well, all Olivine was thinking about was the "you're not a monster" part... though his views on many things are complicated, truthfully. similarly, he's quite happy to move through the conversation without much ado.]

Has it? I hope you find it pleasant, then. When we're on the road, I'm happy to do the same as well... I'm used to cooking for myself on journeys, after all. [delicate fingers split a hunk of bread, that sheepish little laugh in his tone again.]

[bardische]

[ You don't need to cook for me sits on his lips, but he hides it in a bite of food. Fresh, hardy bread and good cheese. Foods he hasn't had in awhile, and certainly not together. ]

We can share the duty [ He offers instead. It is a nice way to give thanks. ] I am good at hunting and cooking on a fire.

[ He's not sure what the laugh means. Is Olivine uncomfortable? Trying to ease Basch's worry? It's been so long since he was regularly with people, and he wasn't good at it then. ]

[massochism]

That's fine by me. I can hunt, but I'm not particularly good at it... I much prefer foraging.

[He seems... really excited to just be traveling with someone, actually. As to the laugh, well... it's none of those, but he can't explain without being asked, not knowing it's a question. In fact, the priest has already moved past that laugh altogether, eating with careful poise—but not quite delicately.]

Mm, do you normally like spices? I may pick a few sachets up if it suits you.

[bardische]

[ That gets a real smile out of him. ] And I'm passable at foraging but much prefer to hunt. We will be a good team, then.

[ For the few days this lasts. He has to keep his face from wincing when Olivine asks his preferences. Because getting attached, having someone who cares about him -- that will be harder to leave than Olivine knows. Even if he could never turn it down. ]

Whatever you prefer. [ Except he already knows enough to know the priest won't accept that. ] But, yes, I do like them.

[massochism]

It seems so. I have to admit, I'm looking forward to it.

[It probably seems ludicrous that he's gone from his gentle caution at a werewolf to this warmth, but that's honestly just Olivine. Even without acknowledging the odd thrill of seeing him as a wolf and a Wolfman, that's true.

And his answer is a dismissal to a degree—for reasons both clear and hidden to the priest. He has no concept that they're honestly both hurting for companionship based on their selves, not their status.]

Alright. I'll get a few before we leave, then.

[bardische]

[ After they eat, Olivine returns to town once more for provisions, giving Basch a moment to collect himself, and then they're off.

The week passes quickly and warmly. Basch cannot remember being this at ease on the road, certainly not since before the curse. They are indeed a good team, and there's a satisfaction to providing for someone else that he'd forgotten over these long months. Between that and how often Olivine eases conversation out of him after months of little to no use of his voice, he hardly feels like himself. Or maybe more like himself than ever.

Perhaps that's why he finds himself pleased to earn smiles or laughter from the other, just the novelty of having a person to serve once again. He'll be sorry when this company is gone, but not sorry for letting it happen.

Still, each night, he watches the moon with sobering calculation. He will transform soon. And he can't have Olivine alone with him when that happens. Not when he attacked his own prince.

So, finally, he suggests they go to town for more supplies -- this time together. He leaves out that he plans to leave Olivine there. He hasn't figured out how. He's never been subtle or much for spy work, but...if nothing else...he can show the early signs and spook the villagers. Already this morning, he feels his hair thickening beneath his clothing, the nails on his feet becoming claw. ]

[massochism]

[in turn, Olivine is vibrant and warm throughout their time together. the week itself passes so easily, so smoothly that even he almost loses track of it—by the time Basch suggests they go to town for supplies, he's surprised to realise how long it's been.

he's quick to agree to go, though, trying not to let the guilty feeling of ignoring his duties slip in. after all, watching over Basch is part of those duties, finding ways to assess the danger of this man. that it provides him comfort is just... incidental. right.

it'll be the first time the blond has seen him interact with people, too. this little town is much less secluded, and the response to his presence is... immediate, vibrant even. cries of Your Holiness are frequent, often accompanied by the insistent offers of everything from fruits and vegetables to medical supplies and everything in between.

it'd be overwhelming for most everyone, and though Olivine seems to be fairly used to navigating this, he... doesn't seem to get through very quickly, especially when any of the villagers decide to squabble over what he might need—without his input, naturally.]

Ah—please, it's quite alright! You need to provide for yourselves first, I'll only take what I need and happily pay—

[what kind of person would I be, asking Your Holiness to pay for anything? God would surely strike me down immediately—]

[bardische]

[ At first, Basch thinks the people here just know him, and that it is a good place to slip away, even if he'll miss the priest's company. But that is selfish, and he's already hurt too many people with his selfishness.

It's when folks start arguing over what Olivine may want without consulting him -- and more or less cornering the two of them while they do it -- that Basch feels a pang of protectiveness. ]

Let him speak [ he says, not realizing how much it comes out in a growl. But there's something deeper under it, something he can't quite put his finger on, but the sense that these are Olivine's people is gone. This is more like being in a foreign court than anything. ]

[massochism]

[Olivine exhales a breath when Basch speaks up, glancing to him with a pang of appreciation in his expression. it's enough to stop them arguing, between the growl and everything else, so it's... enough.]

Ahem. Thank you for your kindness, but as I was saying, it would be ill-fitting for me to abuse your kindness. You have friends and family to support, after all.

[it's enough, too, to get them to stop arguing—though they certainly glance to Basch himself with some wary curiosity. he's with Olivine though, so they don't look at him with too much concern; reluctantly, they agree to a price and eventually disperse, leaving the two with their supplies, at least.]

... sorry about that. People can get... a bit enthusiastic sometimes. Thank you for your assistance.

[bardische]

[ He's been a guard so much of his life. He's used to being overlooked. Prefers it even. But right now he stands close, wanting to be clear Olivine has an escort.

Except he really, really needs to leave. He waits, until it's just the two of them, but still he doesn't move. ]

Does this happen often? We don't have your priests where I come from.

[ Religion that requires an intermediary is something he doesn't personally have much familiarity with, even if he respects it means a good deal to others. ]

[massochism]

Ah—it depends. I think I mentioned it before, but... people do appreciate me quite a lot, since I'm often the one helping with their troubles.

[it really does make it all the more clear that he's not really "part" of these communities, more than he is something they look at with awe and appreciation. something kind of above the "normal" human, even.]

In some of the territories, it isn't nearly so... much, though. Especially where people are less devout.

[settling the supplies in arm, he glances to Basch, quiet for a brief moment.]

Mm... it's getting close to the time, isn't it? [he hadn't talked about it, but Olivine has been keeping an eye on the time. honestly, he doesn't know how best to help the man-turned-werewolf, but the idea of being alone again is...

well, that's just him being selfish. he made a promise, didn't he? that once Basch was healed...]

[bardische]

[ He frowns, gaze going to the people around them as he remembers the way the town folk acted. "Appreciate" isn't the word he'd go for. It feels like trying to curry favor, while outright ignoring what the priest says. He's seen it before with nobles or powerful mages. ]

So this entire territory is like this?

[ Guilt is clawing at his stomach, and something else...protectiveness, perhaps. It's not that he doesn't think Olivine can handle himself. It's that he shouldn't have to. ]

It it typical your kind don't keep Guards? [ It would be unthinkable, at home, but this country seems to have less of a military presence, which isn't all bad.

His thoughts are entirely on Olivine, until the other looks at him and asks that question. There's ice in his veins, and he looks away. ]

I should be far from the village by nightfall, and stay away at least five days to be safe.

[massochism]

I wouldn't say entirely, but there are many who are very... enthusiastic like this.

[Olivine shrugs, like he's used to it—which he is, really. it's not like he'd ever had friends, or really... knew what it was like to connect with people, before this. that's not an important fact right now though.

the question makes him blink, brows furrowing.]

Why would we keep Guards...? I'm capable of protecting myself, so I wouldn't like bothering someone with that anyway. [he does laugh softly, head shaking.] Plus, the knights all belong to the Kleinster Kingdom, in the Light Territory.

[Basch looks away and Olivine smiles, nodding lightly. it's mostly to himself, given that fact, but still.]

Then... I'll stay near here and keep an eye out, just in case. That way, you don't have to worry about the people here while you're out there.

[bardische]

[ He gives a small shake of his head, as much at Olivine as at himself. He’s not good with words on a good day, and right now he’s trying to control the growl in his throat and the increasing sense of pain in his legs. He can’t look at the crowd, because that uneasy feeling of wanting to protect his charge from everyone is what got him thrown out of the palace the first time. ]

Of course you can protect yourself. But a Guard can deflect or extricate unwanted attention. [ He sighs, frustrated. He sounds condescending. The Prince used to say as much, even if it was kind. The Prince could defend himself too. That wasn’t primarily what Guards were for. It was to give them room to breathe, less to worry about, someone to be a shield with over enthusiastic subjects. Someone who was safe to talk to.

But he can’t be that for Olivine. Not with what he is.

Some bizarre, traitorous part of him had expected the priest to argue his leaving, and now he’s almost disappointed he hasn’t. But none of that is fair. None of this was ever more than a week of supervision to make sure he wouldn’t maul the town.

Still, he can’t help asking quietly, ] Will you be alright here? [ He doesn’t mean safety. ]

[massochism]

Ah... [there's a soft chuckle he gives then, weight shifting as his gaze drifts off to the distance. truthfully, he doesn't seem condescending to Olivine—just different. kind.] It wouldn't do for a priest to be unavailable to their people. We are their succor in times of need.

[that's definitely rehearsed, the kind of rhetoric ground into someone over a lifetime. it's true enough, and well... Olivine is what he is.

just like his inability to ask to join Basch, to... ask him to stay a little longer. the time that's passed is just something he has to get through, until the regrets are too far and too small to cause him trouble.

Basch asks that and Olivine's gaze turns to him again, brows furrowed.] Me...? There should be nothing to worry about, here. I try to spend as much time as I can keeping busy, so there shouldn't be too many other incidents.

... Will you come back, after? I know you don't need me, as you're healed now, but... I'd be happy to see you again.

[bardische]

Do you need to be available one hundred percent of the time? [ It's not his place. He clenches his hands into fists, too-hard nails digging into his palms. The nobility and important generals he guarded needed their time to be with safe people, or alone. The crowds could be never-ending. It wasn't something he envied them. This town is smaller; Olivine is a professional. But it still doesn't feel right.

But what can he do? Another few hours and he might take a swing at someone. Or worse. He has to go. And he can't take Olivine with him, because -- because he'll be too dangerous. Even if he were selfish enough to ask.

Olivine's question catches him by surprise again, eyes wide and mouth slightly open as he struggles for an answer. ]

It's usually safer not to go back anywhere I've been. [ An honest answer, but not one that feels right. ] I didn't need you this week either, I -- [ Definitely not what he wants to say. He should go. His head is already so clouded, and he can feel his frustration hot in his veins. ] I'd like to see you again, but I can't put you at risk.

[massochism]

[the way Olivine looks away says that the answer is, more or less, definitely a yes... and that it's probably not right. honestly, if he himself were just a little bit less devoted to his role, it would probably be easier.

there are other priests, after all, who receive warm commentary from the townsfolk—but it's nothing like their apparent reverence for Olivine.]

I have space and time for meals and sleep and the like, of course. We're still human, after all.

[Basch explains, gives his answer, and for a moment, Olivine is torn by it. his normally warm demeanour seems more listless, tired. with everything that's happened it's probably natural, but it doesn't help the way he tenses when the blond speaks that.

of course, he'd known that, too. Basch has survived this long, in whatever places he's been, will be. and of course it would be better if he just... kept going, right? because, like he says, it would be a risk. his smile is a little thinner than he'd like, but he manages it.]

Ah... of course. If you think it would be a risk, I wouldn't want you to regret it.

[honestly, if he knew how much it was affecting Basch, he might be a little less agreeable about it. for now, he can only assume that this is just how Basch feels on the matter. they're both idiots.]

[bardische]

[ That warmth he's gotten used to -- the warmth he genuinely thought was some sort of airs while looking after him -- breaks again. Coupled with that answer, every inch of Basch's long life as a Guard is screaming that this person is not safe here, not alone.

He holds back a growl, barely, because he doesn't want Olivine to think it's directed at him. At all. ]

I would regret hurting you [ He says. Low, tense, pleading in his eyes. He's not good at this. He doesn't know what to say.

Whatever snarl of thoughts he's working through, they're sidelined as a new group of followers come up, utter disregard for their clearly tense conversation as they begin piling praises and offers on the priest, like Basch isn't even there. ]

[massochism]

Basch, you wouldn't hurt me—

[no matter what. but his commentary is interrupted by the tide of followers arriving, a wave of noise that hides the faint sigh that escapes him.]

Thank you for your kindness, everyone—

[this smile is forced, as close as it is to the one Basch has seen so many times. a hand rises as he shifts, glancing apologetically to the other man before continuing speaking.]

—but as you can see, I'm currently assisting this gentleman in finding lodgings. If you'll allow me some time, I'll be able to accept your warm regards properly then.

[the lies come surprisingly easily to him, all things considered. it's really just because these aren't... actually important things right now, but he does still feel bad just commandeering his connection with the blond to get through this.]

[bardische]

[ Yes, Basch would never hurt him, but when he’s transformed—

He’s hurt someone else he never would have hurt. But he doesn’t get a chance to protest, not before the Priest’s attention is taken again. Anger flares, and underneath it the guilty bile of jealousy. He hates himself for it. He has no claim on this man. But his frustration at the intrusion is warranted, and he can’t keep all of his boiling blood under control.

It’s so easy to step between Olivine and the crowd, even if his hand reaches for a sword that hasn’t been there in months. Fine. He doesn’t need it. Olivine doesn’t want this, and he’s large and assertive. That’s all that matters. ]

The Holy Father asked for space. Will you disrespect him so?

[ he sees their wary faces, their momentary pause to this obstruction, their attention already back on olivine. He’s too far gone to temper his thoughts. All he knows is this is madness, and leaving olivine here is worse than leaving him alone in the woods. ]

With me [ he growls, hand closing on Olivine’s wrist. He winced, the limb slender and delicate, the action to aggressive. He slides his hand further down, closing around the other’s and pulling him single mindedly away from here. ]

[massochism]

Ah—

[the sound he makes when a hand closes on his wrist, tugs him forward, is not surprise, nor is it displeasure. it's something softer, more intimate, trapped in the space between them and lost to the larger group in the constant din of noise they make.

for once in his short life, the priest doesn't feel guilt as he stumbles along behind the taller man for a moment before catching up. he doesn't feel the pull to look back at them or worry overmuch about their murmuring as some unknown traveler pulls their precious holiness off somewhere else.

it'll probably cause a stir later. Olivine's not unused to that, though... everything he does, when he deviates from the church's doctrines and mores, causes a stir. Basch feels more important.]

Basch... [his name is quieter on Olivine's lips, almost shy. the crowd is gone, after all, and they're already at the edge of the village.] Sorry... for all the trouble.

[bardische]

[ Some part of Basch had been worried that Olivine would resist. If he'd told Basch to stop, he would have. He's relieved, though, that the man follows him so easily. He doesn't think past that, just that the town is a bad place for him.

But then they're out of the village, and his actions are catching up with him. Now what? The problem is the same, and he hasn't made it any better--

Olivine's voice, quiet and weak, has him turning around the face the other man, iron in his eyes, but his own voice is soft, his grip firm but not crippling. ]

You shouldn't apologize for their behavior. Someone of your recognizability needs a Guard. I would-- [ He would offer his services, in exchange for a purpose again, but the words are stolen as his back tenses, eyes screwing shut and a low sound of pain in his throat. His grip tightens to much, only for a second, and he's sure Olivine can feel the claws there.

His eyes are sadder, panting as he says ] I would have gladly served that role for you. But I'm of little use like this. [ That's the worst part of this curse, really. Not the pain, not the transformation. It's being a danger to others, and thus having no purpose, no community. ]

[massochism]

Basch—

[his grip tightens and Olivine inhales a soft breath, a shiver running down his spine at the prickle of claws. ah... he really should have just let him go. but...]

That's not true. [spoken quietly, as he steps in closer and gently takes the blond's hand in his own. soft, warm energy traces between them, easing any pain there might be there; it won't stop the transformation, surely, but...] I don't... know if they would agree to me having some kind of Guard anyway, but... I can protect myself, and help you. And... in turn, if you wanted... you could be there for me.

[there's a plea there in his gaze when he looks up at Basch, uncertain but still warm.]

We... we could try it, for now? Since we're already here. [I don't want to be alone again.] And if it doesn't work out and you're worried, then that will be that.