A BLACKOUT [Lang]

[Vaet Qou]

The sun was high, the blue of the sky shrouded behind thin white clouds. It was another day in the Fire Kingdom; a day full of routine and labor. After the war, he had sensed a wave of fear within the Fire nation, and noticed the changes that came with it. Younger Fire Fey buckled down and attended their magic classes, while their parents decided it was best to take their celebrations in stride, and to use their cunning and seductive nature to defend the Kingdom if there was ever an attack. Vaet, who was now in one of the chambers of the Kingdom, could not witness the building strength. It didn’t matter. The pride of Fire burned no matter where he went.

Summer was around the bend, and it made him restless. He felt as though his powers, body and soul had hibernated during the winter and were searching for a way out through his pores. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leaned the small of his back against the table behind him. The room had always been magnificent -- there were shelves of oil with weak flames flickering through out the darkness, for there were no windows. Occasionally, the flames would glare off the golden statues in the room, bringing attention to the bright red cushions adoring the chairs.

Although he had been early, he felt irrational agitation. Vaet wanted to blame Lang for being late, and he wanted to blame Lang for it being Spring, for the bad breakfast he had this morning, and for the way his neck hurt from his sleep. Because it would be easy to blame Lang, and although the Ruler would deny it; it still would be easy to point that finger. He channeled his anger on his friend for a second longer, before the irritation made him feel like a slug. Glancing away from the room’s structure, his chin met his chest to see that his fingers were curled into his palms.

Vaet unfurled his fingers, ignoring the indent his fingernails left in his palms. Sighing loudly, he dropped his arms from his chest, and used his left foot to push back the nearest chair. Lethargically, he placed himself within the chair and decided to watch the door to the chambers instead. Maybe he shouldn’t have came so early, and it was good Spring was coming -- Summer would be following it, and the breakfast wouldn’t have been so bad if he just ate slower, and he really did need a new pillow. Unfortunately, the only defeat he knew was himself.

[Lang Na]

But it was a time of celebration.

Lang could feel it, could sense the earth waking up beneath his feat, could feel its heat beginning to emerge from under that darned layer of cold, and it was thrumming with energy, like an engine revving up until it burst full-speed into action. In a sense, Spring was one of his favorite seasons, ripe with promises that Summer would bring into fruition, but it was the wait, the anticipation, the chase, that was always funner. Like an echo, Lang himself felt the excitement that came with the turning of seasons, as he was always susceptible to great influences. So while Vaet was in a sour mood this morning, his best friend was in quite the opposite, and the doors to the chamber burst open, the Ruler appearing behind it.

They had spent too many years in each other's company for Lang not to notice the air of sullenness around Vaet. It wasn't a particularly uncommon state for his friend to be in either, unfortunately. Their personalities had always starkly contrasted in that regard. To him, Vaet was more like a simmering flame, waiting like an animal to pounce. Lang's quick steps slowed to a stop, and before he reached the set of table and chairs, Lang paused, head tilting back as he glanced over Vaet, appraising. "Fall off the bed this morning?" he asked, leaning on the edge of the table and crossing his arms over his chest. "Ah, but no, your mood's worse than that. Someone kick you off the bed this morning, then?"

[Vaet Qou]

His stare pierced the door; mind starting to wander until it opened, bringing natural lighting in. Vaet lowered his lids, trying to make out the silhouette until it revealed Lang. At the first prod, he didn’t react, but it was the second that his face suddenly appeared guilty. The guilt was short lived, disappearing to an apologetic glance, to an irritated one. Vaet had always changed his expressions, to see if the Ruler could pick out the genuine one. And then Lang approached closer, now leaning over the table.

Vaet backed into his chair, trying to find something witty to retort with. “I don’t know,” he finally responded, “Did you do it?” His right hand lifted, placing his forefinger under his chin and raising his brows, as though the question had been a serious inquiry. “With what little room I had in the bed, I wouldn’t doubt if that was you.”

Of course, Vaet had never been the promiscuous type. He had a type of personality that made him feel as though he was standing on the edge of the cliff, and he worried that he would fall forward or the ground would cave beneath him. Not many could put up with Vaet, and that made him even more thankful that Lang had stuck around. “No, no, I was cold all night. It couldn’t have been you.” At last his hand dropped from his chair and he straight up in his chain, using his own weight to rest his arms on the table.

Vaet found himself drawn to Lang’s presence, unaware that his movements were truly like a fire; ablaze one second and then nearly embers that were close to dying out.

[Lang Na]

Lang grinned in response. If Vaet was in fit condition to verbally spar, then it must not have been something of great concern. "I'm not so sure of that," he answered, waving a dismissive hand. "Between the three others sharing the bed, I wouldn't have even noticed you." The Fire fey were a people of a great many passions, after all. Monogamy was a relatively rare thing, indeed, and it usually took a long time for people of their culture to settle on just one other. He stayed where he was, neither drawing towards nor moving away as Vaet approached. "You must've been cold, being left out while we had all the fun."

Of all the people in the kingdom, the one that posed the most threat to his position and his well-being was the one that stood in front of him right now, ironically enough. Yet fear had never been part of their dynamic, even in times when their resolve was tested. Lang met Vaet's gaze, chin raising. He was not the type to back down. "Next time, you should just speak up. I'm a good friend, Vaet. I would've shared."

[Vaet Qou]

The two had always threw joking, invisible fists. Vaet welcomed them, but couldn’t help but feel some resentment toward Lang’s choice of words. Born with the spirit of wanderlust, he had also knew the appreciation of a good home and a good friend. And to share what little he held dear to, bothered him immensely. All the while he was unsure where the heat was coming from, but it was enough for Vaet to step out of his chair, his palms folded on the table for support. He leaned forward, allowing their noses to barely touch.

It had been a very predictable approach: he would grin, tell Lang off and probably share a few laughs. But he didn’t feel as though that would suffice. He had been in a bad mood when he got here, and he felt the fingers of restlessness shake at him. Vaet’s eyes dropped, as though he was staring down upon Lang. “A good friendly merely would have offered, not wait to be asked,” and while he had wanted to continue to keep his sorrowful approach; he ended up caving.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile, and he reached his right hand up to place it firmly on Lang’s left shoulder. “Actually, I am surprised. Usually it’s me trying to cheer you up. Well, take a look at you!” Vaet backed away, giving his friend a good once over, as though this persona didn’t fit the Ruler of Fire. “You’re practically beaming, I could hear the dance in your step, I swear.” Giving the other male a little nudge with his hand, he had to probe, “Good news? Or did you really share a bed with two other people last night?”

[Lang Na]

"Maybe both," Lang answered, his grin all sharp teeth and challenge. The temperature near them kicked up just a notch, though whether by intention or sheer response to his emotions was hard to say. The shoulder under Vaet's hand was hot, rather than warm, and even through the layers of fabric, it was easy to feel the heat licking off the skin. Unfortunately for him, Lang had not, in fact, shared a bed with another person that night, let alone two. It would've been quite disastrous if he had, being that he had been restless, perhaps as a result of the oncoming day, perhaps because of Spring in the air, and having to fare with two other temperaments was not something he was prone to doing when he was not first content himself. Thankfully, unlike Vaet, he had woken up much recovered.

"I enjoy the end of winter," he explained, jesting done with for now. He did not shrug away Vaet's hand, merely standing under the weight of it, glancing out the windows at the fiery walls that enshrouded their kingdom. In the winter, the color was dulled by the volcano's efforts to stay ablaze while the world around it succumbed to ice. In spring, it was like a flush returning to an unhealthy palor, and in summer, it was a flame in full bloom. He turned back to Vaet. "And you? What was that long face about?"

[Vaet Qou]

In Lang’s presence, Vaet never got the impression that the ruler would forget his position and become a lustful being. While they were known for being flighty, that applied mostly in relationship and battle -- not for actual power. If anything, the power, the heat, was what really kept this place intact. Vaet stared at the whites of the other male’s teeth, and simply nodded. While they had dwelled in a volcano and danced with the heat, he never really felt the temperature until he was around Lang. It was an uncomfortable heat, and he politely removed his hand from the other male’s shoulder.

He was awed by the other’s voice, and the choice of words. It was a personal choice to share what he was thinking. And while Vaet enjoyed the rising power with the end of Winter, he had hated the limitations they had to actual get out and use it. Sometimes, he had felt like he was trapped within his own Kingdom. Vaet was really like his parents after all. Meeting the ruler’s dark eyes, he had wanted to turn away, to brush off his troubled mind.

“It’s one of those days. I woke up, and asked himself, ‘Are we getting anywhere?’ I am loyal to only you, Lang, and yet I can’t help but feel as though I have already betrayed you,” at last Vaet’s clouded vision faltered, and he had reached his right hand to the side of his hip. He had held it there, his fingers feeling an object, wondering if he would have to use it. “I agree with the Fire Kingdom and where it is going, but I disagree with our alliances, quite often. And while I see the disadvantages of being alone, I can’t feel anymore safe with them.”

Instead of using the chair, Vaet let go of his hip, to pick himself up to sit at the edge of the table. His back was facing the ruler, and his eyes were watching the golden statue. “I am convinced that our own game has trapped us here. Waiting, waiting… for that message, for that order, for that sign. Unpredictability is the best, but why do I feel that this is so predictable?” Only then, his head turned to glance over at his shoulders, questions apparent, fear, and curiosity. "While I protect the nation, will they protect me?"

[Lang Na]

This time, it was Lang's hand that fell on Vaet's shoulder, and the ruler circled around the warrior, coming to a stop in front of him. He closed his eyes, leaning forward until their foreheads bumped lightly, and this time, the temperature was only mildly warm, comforting and content. "I'd protect you," Lang answered easily, because the answer came easily to him to begin with. It was something akin to common sense, something he had never had to think about. It just was, one of those things you took for fact, for the sheer belief of it rather than a proved empirical outcome. His mouth quirked into a smile as he drew away.

In a way, both he and Vaet had the same innate trust in their kingdom, in so much that compared to any of the others, they were sure that theirs was equally if not more so brilliant (leaning more towards the 'more so'.) In times of war, however, weaknesses were deadly, and standing alone was a weakness, and letting the Ice Kingdom band against them was a weakness, even if Vaet's inherent dislike for their people was common knowledge. The previous ruler had forged these alliances based on greed, but that didn't mean they couldn't be used for better goals. "And I have a nation. Does that count?"

[Vaet Qou]

Only a second, a minor touch, and Vaet was already in the process of being embarrassed. He had regretted filling Lang’s head with his insecurities. The Ruler needed strong followers, no matter what. And he had wanted to be selfish, get lost in their friendship and reminisce about when things used to be easier. The bump on his head was a second reminder, that he did have a brain and that it would have to be used correctly. Yes, Lang would protect Vaet, but Vaet would protect Lang first. At this point, they’d probably get each other killed trying to protect one another. “Haha,” he laughed nervously, moving his left hand to rub the his knuckles against his unusually burning face.

“No wonder the ladies like you, such a flatterer,” the shakiness was still there, but it was residing when he decided it was safe to go back to where they were: the present. “You are the nation,” he corrected, for that was all Vaet knew. These alliances still didn’t matter to him on a personal level, but he knew as a whole, the alliances would make up for resources they didn’t have. Lang didn’t have to say it: working with your polar opposite is really beneficial. Immortal enemies, now reunited. “Also, that does count. I am sorry, I like to have my me moments.”

Vaet slipped himself off the table, moving to push a chair out toward the ruler. “Have a seat, My Liege,” his voice was smooth, inviting, while a liquid smile floated onto his face.

[Lang Na]

Lang raised a brow, but he moved towards the seat nonetheless, falling down on it with enough aplomb to kick his feet on the table as well. Such uncouth behavior had no place in the formal court, but as it was, there was only Vaet and himself in the room, and there was no need to put on masks and faces for each other. He was not of noble blood, after all, and had not been brought up to learn which silver spoon was to be used first. Even in polite company, Lang sometimes forgot the new set of 'manners' bestowed upon him as Ruler.

Lang tilted his head back, looking up at his friend, who was standing behind the back of the chair. "I am me," he corrected, almost like an after-thought. "Not the nation. I just have a lot of people willing to do what I say nowadays. I'm still me." Still the boy Vaet met in school, still the same one who fought with him day after day before they learned together, still the same person who grew up alongside him. People often changed after acquiring power, wealth, and prestige, but as far as Lang was concerned, these were things he had always had - power in his confidence, wealth in friends, prestige in his own code of personal honor. It was not something people could give him, just as it was not something people could take away.

He raised a hand on the arm of the chair - a sturdy, yet not uncomfortable stone, as anything else would melt in such harsh conditions - waving at Vaet. "But in the meantime, lowly servant, feel free to wait at my beck and call and feed me grapes."

[Vaet Qou]

His eyes narrowed when the other male wanted to argue that he wasn’t the nation. Vaet had a theory about what a nation was, and who was importance in it, and that never came with titles. Before a ruler, Lang was a citizen and before a citizen, he was a friend, and that was a nation he wanted to protect. Without that glimmer, he would simply fade away and do weaving for the rest of his life -- hating it. He couldn’t even fathom the type of life-style he could have had: decent wife, annoying child, and he doubt there would be any real hope besides thinking to himself, ‘We are all doomed!’

From this position, there was faith. Vaet ignored the command, or even the talk as being a servant. Instead, he plopped himself down in the chair he had been sitting in when Lang first entered. “Would it turn you on if I fed you grapes, or are you that big of a glutton to not really care?” he threw the question out there, a hint of sarcasm, but deep down inside he was really curious. Banter was easy to play by ear, but too much of it had caused the perception of Lang to be distraught. Vaet didn’t actually think that Lang had found him attractive, or anywhere near it.

They were seductive by nature, and it was easier to make fun of the normal life-style most Fire Fey led. These positions came with sacrifices. While Lang was sure to think about his answer, Vaet reached down to pull out a couple of candles. He placed them out on the table neatly, as though they were for decoration. Vaet then turned back into chair, crossing one ankle over the other. Using his finger, he pointed at the candle closest to him and lit the wick. Not that he needed the finger, but it was like an arrow, ready to aim.

“I wish you had a sister, or were a girl, this job would be a lot easier for me,” he voiced aloud, pausing, “What about your mom? She still around?”

[Lang Na]

Lang raised his brow at the candles, before turning that look to Vaet, incredulous. He had been ready to answer the first question with another sly turn-of-words, an easy, witty answer that, much to Vaet's misfortune, would not have held much weight to it. Half the time, what they said when bantering was not to be taken for truth. However, the answer never made it to the audible ear, preoccupied as the ruler is with the second part of their conversation. "You want to wait on my mother?" he asked, wincing a little at the thought. The fire Vaet lit flared. While older fey were certainly not above taking younger lovers, that particular pairing was a little... "I think you're a little bit young for her, Vaet."

[Vaet Qou]

A smile stretched on his face, the white of his teeth barely showing. He was humored by the idea of Lang’s mother. It wasn’t like she was an old lady by looks, plus, it never hurt to explore the mature side. “Well, yes, but I am sure she is a rather nice woman.” Quickly, he leaned forward so that he could blow out the flame that he had just created. Then he paused, his eyes wide and he turned to look at Lang. The red in his eyes were obviously eyeing the other male up. “You know, there are magic that can change…”

The smile turned into a grin, and he leaned to his left, over the arm-chair to be near to the ruler’s space. “Here, I will close my eyes and see what it would be like if you were female,” Vaet half-closed his eyes, of course leaving just enough room to see between his eyelashes. He assumed the kissing stance, face held out, as though in waiting. He didn’t expect anything, besides being smacked or pushed away.

[Lang Na]

Challenges were a weakness for Lang. He felt uncontrollably drawn to any challenge posed to him, like a moth to the flame. His mother was, in fact, a 'rather nice woman', if not a little vain, as some fire fey tended to be (as Lang tended to be; perhaps it was inherited). Like his mother, he was no stranger to a measuring gaze, and he neither shrunk away nor ducked from it. Instead, he smirked back, one corner of his mouth tucking up into his cheek, as he rested his head in one palm. He looked relaxed, which was why, when he made his move, it was all the more sudden.

In a flash, Lang leaned forward, over the table, fast enough that his hair and bandanna flew over his shoulder, swept in his back-draft. With one hand flat on the table, and the candlelight flaring into a near blaze that melted half the wax in one go, Lang tilted his head, leaned forward, closer, close, until they were a breath apart. Instead of closing the distance, however, he opened his mouth, breathing out a gust of air so warm it was almost like a heated caress. At that distance, he batted his eyes in jest, knowing that Vaet was definitely still able to see it, and threw his voice into a high falsetto, imitating a court woman. "Oh, my lord warrior, how fare ye today? I had this wonderful dream about laying in bed with Ruler Lang, and oh, how dashing he was!"

[Vaet Qou]

The swift movement caused Vaet to open his eyes immediately, staring at the other male, almost going cross-eyed. He didn’t back-up like he normally would have, instead, he fought his reflexes and decided to wade his way through his own challenges. However, Vaet’s lids twitched uncontrollably, as though they were about to water from the sudden contrast of air on his face. He didn’t even need to turn his head to see that one of his candles had practically been diminished. “Y-yeah,” was all he could reply, “He’s unfathomably handsome.”

Vaet’s prows furrowed and at once, he had sent the irritating heat back onto Lang, using his mind to get it away from him. He had hated to dwell in others heat for too long, it usually felt like a second coat of skin would grow. So close, too close, Vaet thought his mind was going to pull him into a pool of insanity. For some reason he was angry at the other male, and he tried to find the logic behind it. There was a hush in his thought process of all of a sudden, an assurance he had been seeking for. It was like a needle, pricking him, gnawing at his bone for some closer. Finally, it had all made sense.

“I need water,” he said, and moved his hand up as though he was going to shove Lang’s face away for him. Instead, he simply took a step out of the chair, and backed out of the confrontation all together. He had made it to the night-stand near the golden statues and poured a small glass of water out of a crystal basin. Vaet took a sip, the water degrees temperature to compared to what he had been feeling before. Yet, the glass was sticking to his hand, a sign that if he held on too longer it would melt, and hurt his palm.

Vaet placed the glass down. “I hate spring,” was all he said, turning to face the ruler, a pure sign of hatred all over his face.