Displaced Prince

When Dave slipped his arms around Paris and pulled him close to kiss him goodbye, Paris smiled softly and gave himself up into the embrace, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. The night before was still vividly etched on his mind. How he'd felt when Dave's hands had closed around his wrists and the complete sense of security and safety that had filled him to know that Dave wouldn't let go, in any sense of the word, no matter how he'd tested his grip. Paris had pondered on how he was feeling earlier that morning when he'd woken in their bed, all still wrapped up in Dave's arms. He trusted his lover completely, knew how strong their relationship was without needing any kind of proof, but perhaps what they'd done the previous evening had been a physical confirmation of that trust.

Paris could feel Théo at the back of his mind, obviously trying not to demand that Paris shift out, but antsy to be there all the same. Paris sighed and stepped back from Dave with an apologetic smile. "I guess I'll see you later." Paris let himself fall back into nothingness as Théo shifted in.

Théo gave Dave a curt nod, not having yet forgiven him for his rash suggestion about Éomer at the meeting at Pete's place. He watched, fascinated as always, as Dave's features formed themselves into Faramir's face, and his hair grew into the familiar waves.

( Faramir! It is good to see you! )

Happens sometime after Dave finds out about Jed's shift, and after Théo and Éomer's picnic

A Ringwraith.

Long after Dave had fallen asleep, Paris had lain awake, his mid whirring, until finally, not wanting to disturb Dave, he’d slipped from the bed after placing a kiss on his lover’s shoulder and pulled on a pair of jeans. He padded downstairs and slipped his boots on and grabbed a sweater on the way out of the door.

The air was still chilled at this time of the morning outside, and he wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm, feeling vulnerable in the light of what Dave had told him earlier that night.

A Ringwraith.

He shuddered, a bone deep shudder that left him colder than ever, and felt little surprise when he felt the tiny buzz in his head that let him know Théo was close. And this time, he took comfort from it. He didn’t really want to be alone, but Dave had looked tired enough when they’d spoken about this earlier, and he didn’t want him worrying about anything else, about him. He’d put up a brave front for him, reassured him that there was nothing they couldn’t face together, but deep down, he was shit scared.

He’d taken care of himself for so long before he’d arrived in Wellie, knew he could handle himself in a tight spot, but now? Now there wasn’t just himself to think of. What if Dave’s reckless nature got him into danger? What if Paris couldn’t get to him, couldn’t save him? Couldn’t … he couldn’t …

Paris let himself into the stables and gave Laurelea a pat and stroke of welcome before reaching Cavalo’s stall. The big gelding stuck his head over the door, and butted his head against Paris chest, leaving it there as Paris tangled his fingers in the dark mane and let out a sigh.

Théo could feel so many emotions running through his shift and not for the first time thought it would be easier if he could just read Paris thoughts. Fear, concern, anxiety, underlaced with a grim determination.

“Paris, there is something wrong. Please tell me what it is that troubles you?”

“You once told me that if I needed your help, all I had to do was ask. You said you were forever in my debt.” He rested his head against Cavalo’s forelock and the horse whickered softly, as if he understood the human’s distress.

“I am in your debt. Ask, and whatever it is you need, I will aid you.”

Paris teetered on the verge of telling him everything. Jed, the Ringwraith, his own fears and concerns, but he stopped himself. He knew Théo well enough to know he would want to act straight away, and while that made sense to Paris too, they had to decide what to do first, and that wasn't down to him. It was something that everyone needed to be involved in.

"It's nothing. Just ... just a bad dream set me off thinking, that's all."

"Hmmm ... A bad dream drew you from the warmth of your mate on a cold night to seek the solitude of the stables?" Théo wasn't convinced.

"Yeah, that's all it was." Paris let out a long sigh and scratched Cavalo behind the ears before turning and heading back out of the stable door.

"Paris?" Théo knew he was being lied to, but knew Paris to be an honest man, so assumed he must have good reason.

"Yeah?"

"When you need me, you know where to find me." His curiosity had been stirred, but he would try to bide his time until Paris was ready to tell him what was going on.

"Okay." Paris said quietly and he felt Théo leave as he walked back up the track to the cabin, still feeling uneasy but needing the reassuring warmth of Dave and their bed and the oblivion that sleep would bring.

Takes place about a week before Dinner for four

Paris: It’s a sunny winter’s day, and Sean has just finished giving me the grand tour of his new place. Well, their new place. It didn’t come as a huge surprise when Dave told me that Sean and Karl are together, not remembering how they both reacted when the other’s name was mentioned. And I’m happy for them. Sean seems to be good for Karl, given how happy he’s been the past couple of times I’ve seen him, compared to how he was earlier in the year when I know Dave was worried about him. And the place they’ve chosen for themselves is amazing, even the bathroom which is, well, different.

We finish saying hello to Smokey Joe in his new paddock and wander back round to the kitchen through the garden, which was why I called over in the first place. Sean still wants a new set of garden furniture, now to go with the new garden, and I wanted to get a feel for the place, which I think I have. And we’ve talked about styles and what are definite no’s, so I’ve got plenty to work with to pull together some ideas for them.

Thing is, I’m not the only one who was curious about the new house, but Théo’s curiosity about the bricks and mortar pales against his interest in Sean. I suppose he’s keen to meet Boromir’s shift. I’m beginning to think we need a social secretary to keep all our lives running smoothly, what with regular horseboy conjugal visits and now Faramir and Boromir wanting to spend time with each other. And I suppose now would be a good time to see if Sean would agree to Théo’s request. I nod and smile my thanks for the steaming hot mug of coffee he puts down in front of me, and decide to get straight to the point.

( Théo … Théodred wants to meet you. )

Théo: With a gasp, I am suddenly awake, forced from sleep by rapidly fading images, my heart hammering in my chest as I slowly get my bearings. Your arms and scent surrounding me are enough to begin to calm me and I turn in your embrace to face you as an involuntary shiver passes through me, and wind my fingers gently into your hair.

Nightmares never trouble me here, and it feels like an intrusion into our peaceful time together.

Éomer: My sleep is disturbed by something, and instincts and long years of training take over. I open my eyes, keeping perfectly still, trying to decide what woke me. As my eyes adjust I realise I am in Paris's warehouse . . . safe . . . no threats.

But something woke me and your weight against me is not heavy with sleep, but rather vibrating quietly with suppressed tension.

My voice is a husky rumble, thick with sleep.

( What is it, Théo? )

NC-17

Théo: After Dave leaves I relax on the couch. The pills have removed the restlessness I would usually be feeling while waiting for you to arrive, and I find myself quite happy to sit here, until I hear the bike pull up in the yard. I decide to go and greet you and ease myself off the couch, testing how much weight I can put on my injured foot. I take one tentative step, steadying myself with a hand reached over to the back of the couch, then another. But as I hear the door open, I run out of couch and overbalance just enough to land my full weight on my foot and the pain shoots through the effect of the medicine. I let loose a string of curses and sit down heavily on the arm of the couch to wait for you, brow furrowing into a frown at the deep throbbing of dull pain in my ankle.

Éomer: Karl had told me that the arrangements are to meet at Paris’s warehouse, for though it happens that Paris lives with his lover now, Théo prefers the warehouse. I know that this world has many people in it, so that men may refuse to take a wife if they do not desire it. In ours, we do not have a choice, but I am glad that Dave and Paris have found the happiness of their choosing.

I am concerned that I have misunderstood however, when I arrive and you are not waiting to greet me. I do not wish to intrude where I am not wanted and so I knock, calling your name softly. I am more perplexed when bade me enter without opening the door yourself, but my questions are answered by the sight of you with bandages around your foot.

( Is this your injury or Paris's? )

Brief NC-17 at the beginning

Takes place a few hours after Paris and Ryssa's celebration.

Théo: Since Paris is staying at the warehouse for a few days while Dave is away, I thought I would take the opportunity to shift in and finish reading the tale I started weeks ago. But the sight that greets me as I reach the bottom of the stairs is an unusual one. The low table by the couches is laden with small open boxes half full of food. There are dirty plates also and mugs and bottles so I can only guess that Paris and a friend ate here last night, although Paris is not one to leave such a mess until morning.

I consider leaving it as it is, but I will be happier sitting reading if it is out of sight, so with a sigh, I decide to clear it up into the kitchen, then Paris can deal with it in the morning. It only takes a few minutes, and once it is done, I find the book I want on the shelves and sit on the couch, relaxing and losing myself in the words.

Ryssa A glance at the clock through the crack in my eyelids confirms that it’s still the middle of the night. Never matters how much water I drink before I go to bed after drinking too much, I always wake up in the night wanting more.

( Padding down the stairs, I find myself face to face with Paris )

This is referred to at the end of this previous chat.

18th November 3014 Third Age
Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan

I sit by the hearth, tools laid out on the table in front of me, and a piece of leather long enough to wrap round a sturdy wrist pinned to a board by the two eyelet holes in each end. A leather thong lies near my tools, ready to slip through the eyelets when it is finished. There is a design marked on it, graceful and unstructured, based on the intricate knotwork that is so much a part of our lives, adorning as it does everything from the pillars in the Golden Hall to our armour. In the centre is a horse’s head, mane flowing, entwining with the rest of the pattern. Picking up a fine bladed knife, I set the point against the surface and begin to cut, taking care to penetrate no deeper than the grain of the leather.

( I lose myself in the work ... )

As I drive up to the cabin, Giz is sitting on the deck as usual, waiting for me. There's a cat flap for him to use in the back door, but I think he hears the engine as I turn off the road and comes to meet me. It also pisses Ise off that he's the first to greet me, slinking round my ankles as I dig out my keys to open the door and let her out.

We've both been living here almost full time since Christmas Day. I've stayed at the warehouse on the odd night that I have to work late or early, but apart from that, I guess this has become our main home, and there's a reason for that.

His name is Cavalo.

And unlike the rest of our motley crew, he can't be stuck on the back seat of the truck and driven into town for a few nights when the fancy takes us. I know the guys that look after Leelu could easily do the same for him, but I want to get to know him, let him get to know me, build that bond that Éomer talked about.

Dave isn't home yet, so I feed the furballs and grab a quick shower to get the dust out of my hair. As soon as I emerge, Ise is waiting for me, already used to a routine which is still new, but feels right and we head off down to the stables, leaving Giz curled up on the couch.

There's a whicker as I leave the trees behind and walk down to the paddock. I love the way he does that when he sees me, and comes straight over to the fence, tossing his head. He's feisty, full of spirit and he's mine. I climb over the fence and he walks towards me, butting his head against my chest. I run my hand down his neck as he snuffles at my pockets looking for the apple slices I always carry now. That was one of Éomer's hints. And that reminds me. Dave isn't the only one to thank for finding Cavalo, although I think it'll be in a different way.

Laurelea comes to greet me too, and I slip her an apple slice, not wanting her to feel left out. And I wonder if Dave will follow me down when he gets in. Maybe we'll be able to take them out together. Cavalo follows me over to the gate, and I slip out to get his combs and brushes. As I work on his beautiful chestnut coat, I think back to Christmas …

( It had been a quiet Christmas Eve. )

Ryssa: I finally persuaded Paris to abandon our usual haunt in favour of that quirky little café Sweet Pete introduced me to, and I can see by his face that he isn’t disappointed. I grin smugly as he finishes off his raspberry pastry.

Paris: Washing down the pastry with a gulp of coffee, I smile at the self-satisfied look on your face. “Okay, okay, I give in. This is way better than Starbucks.” We both reach for our jackets and I pick up the check, paying it while you pull yours on and we wander out into the street. “So you still on for dinner tomorrow night?”

( Ryssa: Absolutely. I can't wait to meet the stud muffin that is David Wenham. )

Follows directly on from this

We walk straight up the stairs to the second floor, and emerge into a huge room with a very tall ceiling. And what grabs me straight away is the view. A big part of the back of the house is glass, with a view out over an expanse of white sand down to the ocean.

It’s magnificent.

Even given it’s nothing but an empty shell now, there’s no doubt about it. I recognised the art deco influences from the exterior but inside is basically a blank canvas.

Mag-fucking-nificent.

As I’m walking round, Ryssa pulls open the glass doors and disappears outside onto the deck. As well as the room we walked into, there’s another next to it, and one at the back which must have been the kitchen at one time. Further through, there are three bedrooms, one with an en-suite, and a separate bathroom. The master bedroom also has access to the deck, so I open the door and wander outside.

The railings round the wide deck are rusted, and I run my hands over them, already counting up the costs of restoration. There’s a set of steps that bisect the deck and lead down to the sand, and soon it’s crunching under my feet. I turn and study the building, eyes drawn by the curving walls.

Ryssa joins me, tilting her face up into the sun.

“How many rooms downstairs?” I ask her.

“Four, with another bathroom.”

( Ryssa, this is a huge project. )