fic - friendwangst, Van/Stef, 1500 words
Oct. 4th, 2013 11:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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last_herald_mageKAT <3 /fails always
tbph, the first thing I tried to do was a melodramatic AR that totally crash-landed. it's that thing where, if you touch any kind of AU, you realise that this ship is completely terrible and the only reason it's canon is because canon is stupid and cruel and you can't make it happen without being equally stupid and cruel so you ragequit forever ie. almost half a week. So instead I tried for some cute friendbonding fluff, and thus ended up with this grim thing. This ship :(
"Van?"
He'd expected Stef, and had somehow known it would be Stef, but the knock at his door hadn't sounded like Stef - Vanyel was used to Stefen neatly tapping out bars of refrain, riddle-riffs from songs they'd shared that he'd expect Vanyel to have placed before he opened the door, so for a moment he'd believed the faltering hand must belong to someone else. Stef had stumbled in almost before Vanyel called out to him to enter, shrunken and shivering.
"I'm alright," Stef mumbled before he could even ask, and wavered to his usual chair. Enough of a sign that he wasn't - he didn't usually shy from voicing physical complaints to make bids for Van's attention. "Just tired, and..."
He's hurting somehow - Van coldly looked for another ploy, maybe a more subtle tack than the previous attempts, but Stef hardly had the strength to lay a trap. He's probably burning through energy without thinking about it, he speculated, and watched Stef shiver his shoulders convulsively. "You're freezing."
"You don't need to waste fuel on me -"
Vanyel narrowed his eyes, and busied himself with building up his neglected fire and igniting the new coals with threads of magic - thin ones, because when he reached for his strength he found it wasn't so much better than Stefen's. "You're too low on energy to keep yourself warm. It's not separable - the strength to keep going, physically, and the strength you put into your Gifts is much the same thing, and non-mages can't replenish it except with rest. Stef, you're a much more limited resource than the Palace coal stores."
"Flattered, I'm sure" Stef replied acidly. Van fought for words that weren't condescending or cold or too close to the bone, and Stef picked them up abruptly before he found them. "I'm sorry. Not been this tired in years. I'm not even used to, to even thinking of what I do as being something I can run out of. Doesn't make sense yet."
"Thought you could do anything?" Vanyel's smile was returned, but halfheartedly, as Stef pulled his arms around himself and leaned his face toward the fire. He remembered being this young, taking difficulties this ungracefully. "You're finding your limits, Stef. It happens to all of us."
Stef shrugged, looking despondent at the very idea of it. "It's a long time since anything I did was this hard..." His face seemed to fold like wet paper. "He's getting worse, isn't he? I kept trying but I knew he was still feeling it and I, what am supposed to do?"
You thought you could do anything and there's nothing you can do about death. He felt Stef's helplessness, shared it too keenly, pressed his lips tight together while he considered what to say. He is hurting, and Van fought the urge to give up on clumsy words and just reach out and touch him. No. I can't risk treating him like I would any other friend - or worse, like more than a friend. Stef leaned tiredly on the arm of his chair, curled his knees up to chest, and Van's resolve almost wavered. I want to comfort him...
Stef raised a weary eyebrow, and Vanyel realised he was responding more like a wooden log than a friend. "Shouldn't have complained, I guess. You're more worn out than I am -"
"No," he said, shaking off his confusion. "Dammit, you're not a trained Healer - have you ever watched someone slipping away from you before? You've never been taught how to handle this day in day out. And it's hard however many times you've seen it, and when it's a - a friend -"
"He's the king, Van. I know he's your friend, but -" The look on his face was uncharacteristically honest. "I just thought I could help. I didn't know I was going to feel for him so personally."
"You're not a trained Healer," he said again. "And Randi has his charms, doesn't he?"
"Yes," and Stef looked to him in confusion, clouded reddened eyes. "I keep thinking, I'm going to miss him so much." Van met his gaze, felt something fragile and unknowing. Child, have you never lost someone? It seemed farfetched that Stefen had reached manhood without knowing grief, but - he's been...detached. No family, and he doesn't even expect to feel for people - he's been protecting himself, Vanyel realised. And now - he isn't.
Stef blinked tiredly, and his eyes fell from Vanyel's, leaving Van to gnaw over the Empathic insight - one of those jolts of awareness that he was sure was true, but didn't know what to do with. Stef had only ever pretended to show him vulnerability before now. This time it was real, and there was nothing Van could do, and it was more difficult and provoking than any sign of infatuation. Stef, I want to care for you. I want to be there for you. And not like you're a so-called 'nephew' - He swallowed hard and tightened his Mind-shields, brimming with guilt. There wasn't anything he could give except weak words. "I'll miss him too - but I won't mourn someone still living. I don't have many friends," and he let the word linger, "but I'll treasure every moment I have with them."
"Van," Stef asked quietly. "How long does he have? Because if he keeps getting worse -"
"I doubt he'll get any worse immediately," Van assured him flatly. "Randi's been having these cycles of pain for years, but they've gradually escalated. You'll see him get a little better again and then worse again over the next few weeks."
Stef sagged against the wing of his chair, hair falling in his eyes. "Gods. Then you might find me crawling back here like this in a while -"
"You're always welcome," Van promised. Stef's other question had been hanging for years, a stale smell in the Palace hallways that only a newcomer would have mentioned. Stef deserved to know. "I don't know how long he'll hang on for. We've heard the Healers and the Foreseers argue it out; they give him another one or two winters. I know Randi; he'll stay with us as long as there's work to do and he's strength to do it." He closed his eyes, and leaned his cheekbone on two crooked fingers. "I'm sorry I can't be of more comfort."
Stef shook his head. "You're being you. If it was coddling I was after, I would have gone to Breda -" He sighed. "I just wanted to - not be alone."
"It's all you can ask for, sometimes." When one can ask. When there's anyone to ask. Mostly, I've lost people and been alone - and his heart spasmed with unwelcome longing. He turned his face to the fire, bidding his folly to leave him and let them get on with being friends. He needed that, too much to sully it with inopportune lust. "It's been hard to find anyone who'll talk about it," he said quietly. "Everyone's either too distant from him to dare or so close we don't burden each other with words."
"And there I go interloping." Van was surprised to feel the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
"I do," he replied, wonderingly. Stef was so easy to talk to, and he'd often found himself saying more to Stef than he'd expected he could say to anyone. The Bard was a good listener, and he sometimes had a way of grasping things that Van couldn't put into words. Which helps, when I'm as short of words as I am of people who'd want to hear them. "I want you to know something," he added. "I know Randi seems at a low, but - you're the only person who doesn't know how much you've done for him. You're the best thing that's happened to Randale in years. You don't know what his bad days were like before you were there for him."
Stef's face twisted. "If they were as bad as today -"
And he knows, doesn't he? He can tell when someone's in pain. Vanyel had long since given up on the 'how' of Gifts, but Stefen's knot of talents might be strangest he'd ever seen; yet as so often, those Gifts had appeared when and where they were needed. "There haven't been many days in the last year when Randi could function for long without pain-muting drugs - and he doesn't like what those do to his mind. So believe me, you've transformed him. You've given him strength and reason back. You've done more than anyone ever has to make his life better - and that's all we can do for each other. I realised that, a few years ago, that when you lose someone all that really matters is having good memories of them..."
It wasn't a particularly cogent statement, but through eyes prickling from smoke and heavy conversation, he saw Stef nod, accepting this unknown. He's been learning so much so fast. He's young, but there's more to him than I ever expected. "I will," Stef mused. "I keep wishing I'd known him when he was younger."
Van sighed longsufferingly. "Are you trying to get me to tell you stories?"
Stef shrugged off the accusation. "I thought you might want to."
"I do," he realised, a step behind Stefen once again. "I really do."
tbph, the first thing I tried to do was a melodramatic AR that totally crash-landed. it's that thing where, if you touch any kind of AU, you realise that this ship is completely terrible and the only reason it's canon is because canon is stupid and cruel and you can't make it happen without being equally stupid and cruel so you ragequit forever ie. almost half a week. So instead I tried for some cute friendbonding fluff, and thus ended up with this grim thing. This ship :(
"Van?"
He'd expected Stef, and had somehow known it would be Stef, but the knock at his door hadn't sounded like Stef - Vanyel was used to Stefen neatly tapping out bars of refrain, riddle-riffs from songs they'd shared that he'd expect Vanyel to have placed before he opened the door, so for a moment he'd believed the faltering hand must belong to someone else. Stef had stumbled in almost before Vanyel called out to him to enter, shrunken and shivering.
"I'm alright," Stef mumbled before he could even ask, and wavered to his usual chair. Enough of a sign that he wasn't - he didn't usually shy from voicing physical complaints to make bids for Van's attention. "Just tired, and..."
He's hurting somehow - Van coldly looked for another ploy, maybe a more subtle tack than the previous attempts, but Stef hardly had the strength to lay a trap. He's probably burning through energy without thinking about it, he speculated, and watched Stef shiver his shoulders convulsively. "You're freezing."
"You don't need to waste fuel on me -"
Vanyel narrowed his eyes, and busied himself with building up his neglected fire and igniting the new coals with threads of magic - thin ones, because when he reached for his strength he found it wasn't so much better than Stefen's. "You're too low on energy to keep yourself warm. It's not separable - the strength to keep going, physically, and the strength you put into your Gifts is much the same thing, and non-mages can't replenish it except with rest. Stef, you're a much more limited resource than the Palace coal stores."
"Flattered, I'm sure" Stef replied acidly. Van fought for words that weren't condescending or cold or too close to the bone, and Stef picked them up abruptly before he found them. "I'm sorry. Not been this tired in years. I'm not even used to, to even thinking of what I do as being something I can run out of. Doesn't make sense yet."
"Thought you could do anything?" Vanyel's smile was returned, but halfheartedly, as Stef pulled his arms around himself and leaned his face toward the fire. He remembered being this young, taking difficulties this ungracefully. "You're finding your limits, Stef. It happens to all of us."
Stef shrugged, looking despondent at the very idea of it. "It's a long time since anything I did was this hard..." His face seemed to fold like wet paper. "He's getting worse, isn't he? I kept trying but I knew he was still feeling it and I, what am supposed to do?"
You thought you could do anything and there's nothing you can do about death. He felt Stef's helplessness, shared it too keenly, pressed his lips tight together while he considered what to say. He is hurting, and Van fought the urge to give up on clumsy words and just reach out and touch him. No. I can't risk treating him like I would any other friend - or worse, like more than a friend. Stef leaned tiredly on the arm of his chair, curled his knees up to chest, and Van's resolve almost wavered. I want to comfort him...
Stef raised a weary eyebrow, and Vanyel realised he was responding more like a wooden log than a friend. "Shouldn't have complained, I guess. You're more worn out than I am -"
"No," he said, shaking off his confusion. "Dammit, you're not a trained Healer - have you ever watched someone slipping away from you before? You've never been taught how to handle this day in day out. And it's hard however many times you've seen it, and when it's a - a friend -"
"He's the king, Van. I know he's your friend, but -" The look on his face was uncharacteristically honest. "I just thought I could help. I didn't know I was going to feel for him so personally."
"You're not a trained Healer," he said again. "And Randi has his charms, doesn't he?"
"Yes," and Stef looked to him in confusion, clouded reddened eyes. "I keep thinking, I'm going to miss him so much." Van met his gaze, felt something fragile and unknowing. Child, have you never lost someone? It seemed farfetched that Stefen had reached manhood without knowing grief, but - he's been...detached. No family, and he doesn't even expect to feel for people - he's been protecting himself, Vanyel realised. And now - he isn't.
Stef blinked tiredly, and his eyes fell from Vanyel's, leaving Van to gnaw over the Empathic insight - one of those jolts of awareness that he was sure was true, but didn't know what to do with. Stef had only ever pretended to show him vulnerability before now. This time it was real, and there was nothing Van could do, and it was more difficult and provoking than any sign of infatuation. Stef, I want to care for you. I want to be there for you. And not like you're a so-called 'nephew' - He swallowed hard and tightened his Mind-shields, brimming with guilt. There wasn't anything he could give except weak words. "I'll miss him too - but I won't mourn someone still living. I don't have many friends," and he let the word linger, "but I'll treasure every moment I have with them."
"Van," Stef asked quietly. "How long does he have? Because if he keeps getting worse -"
"I doubt he'll get any worse immediately," Van assured him flatly. "Randi's been having these cycles of pain for years, but they've gradually escalated. You'll see him get a little better again and then worse again over the next few weeks."
Stef sagged against the wing of his chair, hair falling in his eyes. "Gods. Then you might find me crawling back here like this in a while -"
"You're always welcome," Van promised. Stef's other question had been hanging for years, a stale smell in the Palace hallways that only a newcomer would have mentioned. Stef deserved to know. "I don't know how long he'll hang on for. We've heard the Healers and the Foreseers argue it out; they give him another one or two winters. I know Randi; he'll stay with us as long as there's work to do and he's strength to do it." He closed his eyes, and leaned his cheekbone on two crooked fingers. "I'm sorry I can't be of more comfort."
Stef shook his head. "You're being you. If it was coddling I was after, I would have gone to Breda -" He sighed. "I just wanted to - not be alone."
"It's all you can ask for, sometimes." When one can ask. When there's anyone to ask. Mostly, I've lost people and been alone - and his heart spasmed with unwelcome longing. He turned his face to the fire, bidding his folly to leave him and let them get on with being friends. He needed that, too much to sully it with inopportune lust. "It's been hard to find anyone who'll talk about it," he said quietly. "Everyone's either too distant from him to dare or so close we don't burden each other with words."
"And there I go interloping." Van was surprised to feel the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. "You know you can talk to me, right?"
"I do," he replied, wonderingly. Stef was so easy to talk to, and he'd often found himself saying more to Stef than he'd expected he could say to anyone. The Bard was a good listener, and he sometimes had a way of grasping things that Van couldn't put into words. Which helps, when I'm as short of words as I am of people who'd want to hear them. "I want you to know something," he added. "I know Randi seems at a low, but - you're the only person who doesn't know how much you've done for him. You're the best thing that's happened to Randale in years. You don't know what his bad days were like before you were there for him."
Stef's face twisted. "If they were as bad as today -"
And he knows, doesn't he? He can tell when someone's in pain. Vanyel had long since given up on the 'how' of Gifts, but Stefen's knot of talents might be strangest he'd ever seen; yet as so often, those Gifts had appeared when and where they were needed. "There haven't been many days in the last year when Randi could function for long without pain-muting drugs - and he doesn't like what those do to his mind. So believe me, you've transformed him. You've given him strength and reason back. You've done more than anyone ever has to make his life better - and that's all we can do for each other. I realised that, a few years ago, that when you lose someone all that really matters is having good memories of them..."
It wasn't a particularly cogent statement, but through eyes prickling from smoke and heavy conversation, he saw Stef nod, accepting this unknown. He's been learning so much so fast. He's young, but there's more to him than I ever expected. "I will," Stef mused. "I keep wishing I'd known him when he was younger."
Van sighed longsufferingly. "Are you trying to get me to tell you stories?"
Stef shrugged off the accusation. "I thought you might want to."
"I do," he realised, a step behind Stefen once again. "I really do."
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Date: 2013-10-07 08:31 pm (UTC)Also, because I am an extremely anal archivist, I went and created author tags for all of us /fails with you /no one else will put up with me
/looks at timestamp, fml I could have had this on Friday, but I didn't feel like going to the library then /internet ennui
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Date: 2013-10-08 04:44 am (UTC)<3 ! I can't get over the fact that they were originally FANDOM FRIENDS and I just want to think of them
arguingbantering about music forever ;__;unrelated q: your OCs, can I borrow them? Because um.
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Date: 2013-10-08 05:37 pm (UTC)omg y ;___;
and omg is it Micah because ;________;
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Date: 2013-10-09 12:02 pm (UTC)seriously, I don't know this is going anywhere, but I'm trying.
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Date: 2013-10-09 08:24 pm (UTC)Also, sometimes the point of an AU is to be even more stupid and cruel than canon... ;)
To Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron:
I hope I find you well, and that you will forgive me for being unspeakably gauche and coming straight to the point. I am in something of an unusual situation, and in need of your assistance. Two weeks ago in Three Rivers, a young man with the Bardic Gift was arrested for using his Gift to enthrall passersby, while his accomplice picked their pockets. Quite a tidy little racket, I’d say. They probably could have gotten away with it indefinitely, had the accomplice been less greedy. Enough people noticed that every time they stopped to hear the lad perform, they ended up minus their purses or other valuables, that the local city watch began an investigation and caught them in the act. However, the local magistrate feels that the matter is outside her jurisdiction, since the lad is Bardic Gifted. But since he’s not and never has been a Bardic trainee, we have no actual authority over him; compounding the issue is the accomplice to theft charge, and that is certainly not a matter for the Bardic Circle to deal with. The situation is without precedent, and neither of us knows what to do with the boy. I am, frankly, at my wits’ end. I would be forever in your debt if you would agree to arbitrate the case. Since you have the Bardic Gift yourself, I feel you are our best choice of Herald in this matter. I have already enclosed the specifics of the case, so you can familiarize yourself with them, if you are available to do so.
Your most thankful servant,
Bard Dellar, Dean.
Hoping I can at least finish tweaking the first chapter of this today. It's at the point where if I hold on to it much longer I will be crippled by self doubt. :/
Sob, I ran out of time, looks like it won't get posted today. Goddammit I was on a roll, too. Wah.
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Date: 2013-10-10 04:13 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2013-10-12 03:50 am (UTC)ffff I love everything you've done with Stef. I also love how Stef-centric stuff leaves a lot of room for just making shit up.
lol jobs :( I need to post about mine again...sigh, I don't even know what I've fallen into at this point. :/
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