#and adiran thinks he can be cruel and cold and walk away unscathed... but he cant

[thereluctantinquisitor]

How about 18, 24 or 37?

Thank you for the prompt! <3

37. Defy (850 words). In which Adiran’s older brother is recovering in the palace from a bad injury, and his visit to his room took a bitter, resentful turn.

“What? You think you can just show up half-dead, and that somehow gives you the right to tell me what to do? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m your brother, Adiran.” Even with his torso and leg thickly bandaged, Lorvain still struggled to sit higher in the bed. Breathing gingerly, he tried to speak through gritted teeth, his brow damp with sweat. “If you... if you would just listen to me—”

Any hope of that was dashed when Adiran barked a dry, bitter laugh. “Oh, so now you want to act like my brother? When you’re bed-bound with nothing better to do?” Still laughing humourlessly, he paced the length of the room, his footsteps a low counterpoint to the sharpness of his words. He wielded each one like a weapon - hurled them across the space between them. “You’re not trying to help me, so just drop the act. I’m not backing out of the tournament.”

His brother’s dark hair fell limp to either side of his face, its ragged ends barely brushing the tops of his shoulders. He was gaunt. Unusually pale. Some part of Adiran knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Not right now. But damn it, Lorvain gave up the right to tell him what to do a long time ago. Back when he had the chance to care. “Adiran, I am trying to help you,” Lorvain argued weakly. Despite Adiran’s derisive snort, he pressed on. “I know that tournament. The Red Fury. I fought in it when I was near your age. People die. All the time. And Crosus? Divider, if he” —a cough, sharp and short, wracked his frame, earning a second wince— “i-if I’d had to face a beast like that? I don’t... I couldn’t have...” Out of breath, Lorvain sank back down, shaking his head slowly. For a moment, standing in that sickly-smelling room, Adiran felt a twist of fear. A twist of truth, like a dagger in his gut, because Lorvain had always been the better duelist.

But it only lasted a moment.

“No.” He forced himself to snap out of it, nails biting crescents into his palms. “No. You don’t get to take this from me. None of you do.” He turned to glare daggers at his brother. “This is mine. I’ve worked for it. I’ve bled for it.” He ignored the way Lorvain cringed at that. “And you know what? I’ll win. I’ll win the whole damn thing while you watch from the sidelines with that fucking hole in your leg. I’ll defy you, and anyone who thinks I can’t do it!”

It took until the end of his speech for Adrian to realise he was shouting, his voice echoing against the heavy stone walls. Breathing hard, his mouth suddenly dry as sand, it took everything he had not to storm out of the room and leave his brother to wallow in his own self-pity. In that self-serving concern of his that was just another mask for his guilt. No - he didn’t get to lie there and feel better about himself just because he’d caught the wrong end of a blade. Not if Adiran had a say in it.

“You... You really think I don’t want you to succeed.” To Lorvain’s credit, the statement lacked his usual incredulity; that doe-eyed shock when someone in their damn kingdom didn’t love him just for breathing. “Adiran, I know I haven’t been... I haven’t been what you needed me to be. But I’ve always been on your side.” When Adiran didn’t dignify his bullshit with a response, Lorvain tried to move again, then cried out, his face knotting in pain. “G-Gods!”

At first, Adiran assumed it was just a convenient trick to get out of making a proper apology. But when Lorvain, teeth clenched, squeezed his eyes shut and arched against the bed, he knew something was actually wrong. In the midst of the spasm, Adiran almost went to him. He was surprised, really, when the urge arrived like a whip-crack out of nowhere. But he stopped himself mid-step. Forced himself to set his jaw and turn away until his brother’s rapid breathing began to even out again. No. He didn’t owe Lorvain anything. In fact, he planned to say exactly what Lorvain said to him, three years ago. Back when he’d actually needed him.

“You brought this on yourself.” Despite being exhausted from days of agony, Adiran still saw something in Lorvain tighten. Shiver. Break at his words. It should have felt good. Maybe even just. But instead, Adiran just felt off-balance and anxious, like the ground around him had suddenly dropped away, leaving him alone with nowhere to run. The feeling was so intense that he found himself speaking before he had a chance to stop himself. “Just... stay still. I’ll get the physicker.”

“A-Adiran...” His name was barely discernible, weak and gritted out from between Lorvain’s clenched teeth. “Please... wait...”

With a hollow feeling in his chest - one that he tried to convince himself was satisfaction instead of shame - Adiran ignored his brother’s plea and walked away.