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[bardische]

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[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.

[bardische]

[ Olivine isn't leaving. He doesn't need Basch, no, but he isn't leaving. He knows what Basch is and his kindness hasn't wavered.

Maybe it's just because he hasn't seen what he's capable of. But it's harder for Basch to believe that than it was a week ago.

The cool of Olivine's magic soothes through his veins, and his thoughts feel clearer. He'd almost forgotten the Priest could do that.

But he doesn't like the plea in Olivine's gaze, and for the first time he wonders if the desire to stay with him is as much for Olivine as himself; the other does not seem able to admit discomfort or needing help. This is foolish, and selfish, but-- ]

If I hurt you, if I try to hurt you, you have to leave. Before you decide, you need to know that I left my post and my country because I hurt an old friend during transformation. I cannot promise I'll be myself. [ That the old friend was a prince is irrelevant. He would have left whoever they'd been. He'd sworn then not to endanger anyone else.

But right now, leaving Olivine feels...dangerous. He's not sure for which of them. ]

[massochism]

[Olivine is more used to danger than Basch thinks, perhaps. more than just the frustration of trying to get through a day with devouts constantly clamoring for attention, even.

as Basch makes his limitations, Olivine is quiet, considering. not that they're hard to agree to—not that he's worried in the least. but it's what the older man deserves.]

... Alright. If something should happen and I may get hurt by staying, I'll leave. I don't intend to make you worry about me. I won't let you hurt me while you're not yourself.

[his soft smile returns, fingers squeezing the other's rougher hand, stroking gently over the back of it. he can do this. this... it's good, right? they won't like it, but they never do anyway.]

In that case, we have what we need, if you want to go.

[bardische]

[ Olivine likely is used to more danger than Basch is giving him credit for; he knows so little about clergy, and in this half-transformed state, all he can think is how concerned he is for the priest’s safety.

He doesn’t register that that hasn’t ever happened before.

He lets out a sigh of relief, nodding as Olivine agrees to his terms. Because he wants the priest safe. But he also, so selfishly, wants the priest nearby. Maybe it’s just how soothing that magic and that touch to his hand is in the midst of this process. ]

We should get farther from the village while I’m still…lucid.

[ And human. He knows it’s not going to be long before ear and tail reappear. And that feels oddly embarrassing on top of dangerous. ]

It won’t…interfere with your duties?

[massochism]

No, this is arguably part of my duties, too.

[Olivine's smile is small, but it's earnest. there's truth to the statement—watching over Basch is in some way protecting the people of Klein, even if the one he cares about right now isn't from here at all. that's his secret, they don't need to know it.

another gentle squeeze and Olivine starts forward, slow enough that he won't outpace the taller man unless he doesn't move at all.]

Let's be off, then. I'm sure we can get plenty of distance in a reasonable time.

[the rest, they can handle as it goes. he can prove himself to Basch, one thing at a time. he wants to.]

[bardische]

[ Basch doesn't like the idea of being a problem for Olivine to solve, or something to protect the villagers from, but right now he's willing to bear that humiliation. It's easier, when Olivine is the one who leads. He's not pushing anything the other doesn't want, even if he still feels like he's lying by omission.

But he hasn't omitted anything, really. It just feels like Olivine doesn't hear the truth to it. That he's dangerous.

But he nods, matching pace, not pulling away from Olivine's hand but not keeping it there either. It doesn't feel his place to choose.

He expected to have some time still, but its hardly a few minutes before he hisses in pain, eyes screwed shut as the familiar tension gathers against his skull, heralding the change of his ears on the way. ]

This is...fast... [ He pants. ] I don't...something's off... [ He winces again, cradling his head as the skin and hair shift too fast, stomach knotting at the sudden onset of too many, too-crisp sounds. ]

[massochism]

[It's an excuse, more than anything. Olivine has no intention of "solving" Basch, no need to really worry—but it's enough to keep things civil. Mostly civil.

The walk... well, it was uneventful for the first few minutes, at least. At the pained hiss, his attention turns sharply back to Basch. He's quite sure the man wouldn't have let him stay so near or move so slowly if the trouble were so close at hand, so his brows are already furrowed in concern before the taller man confirms his fears.

So, what to do? He doesn't know enough about werewolves, isn't sure what might help, but—things like this are normally caused by some change in essence, right?]

It's alright. [He doesn't know if that's true. The best he can do is make sure they're not somewhere too open as the horrible crisp sound of shifting rises up into the air. Seeing it in reverse is nothing for preparing oneself for this, and he can feel his stomach twist and his heart ache for empathy.

Still, there's a calm there as the priest raises a hand, familiar warmth flowing from his fingertips to sink into Basch's body. Soothing and deepening the well of energy available for the transformation itself, but not attempting to repair. Not yet, when he doesn't know if that will cause more problems.]

Just breathe. I'll take care of you. [His gaze is firmly locked on the former guard, soft when he speaks again.] I haven't forgotten my promise.

[He won't let the other man hurt him. Not like this.]

[bardische]

[ It's not alright but...the guilt and panic ebb away with Olivine's voice and touch. His breathing comes deeper, more even. He's no magical theorist, but whatever Olivine is doing, it eases the tension that's deeper than tissue.

He's never been with someone, while the change is happening. Even at the palace, he'd requested to be locked in his chambers and then the dungeon for safety. The few medical healers who had examined him had been unable to do anything.

Perhaps the style of magic was just different here. Regardless, he was grateful.

Slowly, he opens his eyes. The weight on his head tells him that his ears are fully changed, even without reaching to touch them. ]

Thank you [ He whispers, not pulling away. He knows they need to get somewhere more private, but he needs a moment to center himself. ] That helped. We should...get as far as we can while I still can. The other changes can be worse.

[massochism]

[something about the way magic uses the area's energy, perhaps. Or it could be nothing of the sort; as long as it helps, Olivine is happy to do it.

Seeing it now, he finds himself stricken by how... nice those ears look, how they fit him well. The last time had been much more charged, and at the end of the transformation besides, so there's certainly a moment of admiration while the other centers himself.

It isn't until he speaks that the priest lets that energy fade, smile soft.]

I'm glad it helped. And—of course. If you're ready to move again, we can go at any time. Will you let me try to help with the other changes as well?

[there's no expectation there, just a question as he offers himself to lean on, should Basch need it.]

[bardische]

[ Basch notices the eyes on him, and he doesn't quite resist the need to look away. He must be unsettling to look at, a reminder of the monster he is. But Olivine's seen worse, and he isn't going to send the Priest away if he doesn't want to.

He's just braced for being left. It's the only rational way this ends.

He does nod though. It's...nice not to hurt so badly. And gods help him, to not be alone. It will hurt worse, next time, but right now he doesn't care. ]

Whatever you're doing is helping thus far.

[ Against resisting the urge to scratch at his large, furred ears. One swivels, catching some sound in the distance, then both flatten in concern in displeasure at the sound of villagers, furthered by how embarrassed he is at these emotions being on display in such a grotesque way. ]

This way. [ Toward quiet, into the forest. Where he belongs. ]

[massochism]

[Really, if he liked at Olivine's face, he'd not be so sure of his expectations. But for now, he'll make do with a hand on Basch's wrist, not quite where he wants it but as close as he dares. It's... to keep himself from falling behind, he tells himself.]

Right... lead the way.

[He wants so badly to comfort Basch. Wants to reach up and slide his fingers along those ears, rub the scalp at their base where the skin must be sensitive. Maybe... maybe when they've reached their destination. At that point, he can at least ask.

The forest wraps around them and the sound of civilisation dies down to a muted sense of quiet. Olivine's attention drifts between his companion and the surroundings, taking in all of it with quiet fascination.]