Wherever We Will Go
Aug. 27th, 2022 10:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seleniasTitle: Wherever We Will Go
Characters/pairing: Dimos/Rion
Fandom: Nier Reincarnation
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 684
Notes: Over edited, but w/e.
-
Rion’s hands shook. “’Anywhere,’ you say — I can’t possibly lead you anywhere good.”
The automaton stepped forward. “My prince,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”
Rion shook his head. “I’ll drag you down with me. You’re stronger, you can go further than me, you’re built for it.”
Dimos moved close. He bent down low, knees whistling softly. It made him feel small and wretched. “Is there fault with your legs?”
“Dimos,” Rion said warningly. “I’m tired.”
Rarely was there a question of who lead who. Today, Rion suspected, it wasn’t him.
“I’m tired,” Rion offered again. “I’m sick of losing. In everything.”
“The war is slowing.”
“People are still dying,” he fired back. “No one’s winning.”
Days and weeks and months went by where he trespassed from one town to the next, barely remembering to cross his fingers before the bombs went off.
Dimos gazed at him. Rion always wondered what metal thoughts he carried if not marbles; throwing in with him had to have been impulse at its worst. Still.
“Nevermind,” Rion sighed. He drew his staff to his side and clambered to his feet. His legs half asleep made him stumble. The landscape swam. So what.
“Rion. You’re not well.”
He couldn’t help it. “No, I’m not,” he burst out. “I wanted to give you freedom when we met and instead I’ve done nothing but stolen your time. And still, you insist on staying.”
The clockwork soldier steadied him, palms around his shoulders. Rion’s chest pounded. Thunder sounded in the distance. Nothing was more important than this awful feeling overtaking him.
“I’m not a leader,” Rion continued restlessly. “I’ve no army or allies. I’m wholly unprepared. I’ve enemies everywhere. You could be miles away from all of this.”
“Rion, sit down,” Dimos commanded. It spurred him. He knocked one of the hands from his shoulders.
“What for?! I’ll beg you to leave if I must but first just listen. I want you to live because I will not.”
The fantasy played its way out in his head in his loneliest moments so surely it was why it struck him now: never leaving the kingdom, Dimos at his side, helping him keep the peace at home. But would they be as close as they are now? Would his artificial skin still touch his and anchor him against the grief that violently gripped him, turned him ugly, made the madness of his father seem inherited?
“I have nothing but time.”
“What?”
“I have nothing but time,” the soldier repeated, his grip going soft. His pale eyes followed Rion’s. “Time enough to match yours.”
“Don’t you wish for a companion who can go further?”
“No.”
“You’re so stubborn!”
A gloved hand touched Rion’s collar and rested there. Suddenly it made him want. More time, more conversation, more arguments, more touch. But it didn’t matter what, just that he was undeserving of it — his own life’s possibilities shriveled up with each passing day.
Now — without a doubt his illness was spreading its warmth under his skin, making him confused, putting his weaknesses on full display.
Rion shivered. “You’re particular. I get it.”
“Yes,” Dimos said. “I have not been vague.”
Rion wrapped the man up in his embrace entirely, shoving his hands through the harness on his back. Machine oil and dirt stained his cheek. He pressed his mouth to where the mechanical clock whirred synchronously, then sighed. “I care for you a great deal,” he confessed. “But your devotion worries me.”
There. He’d said his part.
He’d even managed to stay on his feet.
“It will rain soon,” the soldier droned. “Worse case, snow.”
“Let it,” Rion whispered. One beat. Another.
“We should find shelter. Your fever is worsening.”
“Whatever you want, I’m not worried.”
“My prince.”
Rion laughed. “Only yours. You’re the only one who calls me that.”
Rion pressed himself into the skin that was offered to him. No light bled through the corner of his eyes. He was encased by mechanical hums and whirls. “Will we go?”
The soldier’s hat bowed. He tucked Rion impossibly further into his chest.
“Lead the way.”
Characters/pairing: Dimos/Rion
Fandom: Nier Reincarnation
Rating: all audiences
Word Count: 684
Notes: Over edited, but w/e.
-
Rion’s hands shook. “’Anywhere,’ you say — I can’t possibly lead you anywhere good.”
The automaton stepped forward. “My prince,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”
Rion shook his head. “I’ll drag you down with me. You’re stronger, you can go further than me, you’re built for it.”
Dimos moved close. He bent down low, knees whistling softly. It made him feel small and wretched. “Is there fault with your legs?”
“Dimos,” Rion said warningly. “I’m tired.”
Rarely was there a question of who lead who. Today, Rion suspected, it wasn’t him.
“I’m tired,” Rion offered again. “I’m sick of losing. In everything.”
“The war is slowing.”
“People are still dying,” he fired back. “No one’s winning.”
Days and weeks and months went by where he trespassed from one town to the next, barely remembering to cross his fingers before the bombs went off.
Dimos gazed at him. Rion always wondered what metal thoughts he carried if not marbles; throwing in with him had to have been impulse at its worst. Still.
“Nevermind,” Rion sighed. He drew his staff to his side and clambered to his feet. His legs half asleep made him stumble. The landscape swam. So what.
“Rion. You’re not well.”
He couldn’t help it. “No, I’m not,” he burst out. “I wanted to give you freedom when we met and instead I’ve done nothing but stolen your time. And still, you insist on staying.”
The clockwork soldier steadied him, palms around his shoulders. Rion’s chest pounded. Thunder sounded in the distance. Nothing was more important than this awful feeling overtaking him.
“I’m not a leader,” Rion continued restlessly. “I’ve no army or allies. I’m wholly unprepared. I’ve enemies everywhere. You could be miles away from all of this.”
“Rion, sit down,” Dimos commanded. It spurred him. He knocked one of the hands from his shoulders.
“What for?! I’ll beg you to leave if I must but first just listen. I want you to live because I will not.”
The fantasy played its way out in his head in his loneliest moments so surely it was why it struck him now: never leaving the kingdom, Dimos at his side, helping him keep the peace at home. But would they be as close as they are now? Would his artificial skin still touch his and anchor him against the grief that violently gripped him, turned him ugly, made the madness of his father seem inherited?
“I have nothing but time.”
“What?”
“I have nothing but time,” the soldier repeated, his grip going soft. His pale eyes followed Rion’s. “Time enough to match yours.”
“Don’t you wish for a companion who can go further?”
“No.”
“You’re so stubborn!”
A gloved hand touched Rion’s collar and rested there. Suddenly it made him want. More time, more conversation, more arguments, more touch. But it didn’t matter what, just that he was undeserving of it — his own life’s possibilities shriveled up with each passing day.
Now — without a doubt his illness was spreading its warmth under his skin, making him confused, putting his weaknesses on full display.
Rion shivered. “You’re particular. I get it.”
“Yes,” Dimos said. “I have not been vague.”
Rion wrapped the man up in his embrace entirely, shoving his hands through the harness on his back. Machine oil and dirt stained his cheek. He pressed his mouth to where the mechanical clock whirred synchronously, then sighed. “I care for you a great deal,” he confessed. “But your devotion worries me.”
There. He’d said his part.
He’d even managed to stay on his feet.
“It will rain soon,” the soldier droned. “Worse case, snow.”
“Let it,” Rion whispered. One beat. Another.
“We should find shelter. Your fever is worsening.”
“Whatever you want, I’m not worried.”
“My prince.”
Rion laughed. “Only yours. You’re the only one who calls me that.”
Rion pressed himself into the skin that was offered to him. No light bled through the corner of his eyes. He was encased by mechanical hums and whirls. “Will we go?”
The soldier’s hat bowed. He tucked Rion impossibly further into his chest.
“Lead the way.”
