#it didn't START as ryu's pov but it did turn into that whoops

[swindlersstole]

❛❛ Please stay with me tonight. I don’t want to be alone. ❜❜ Ferk !!!!!

now. before I get going on this, I DO need to stress that we settled this out of court, and you were very gracious and allowed me to do something that wasn’t ferk as long as you got your daily Faris intake. and I’m sorry I had to ask that of you but I am NOT a strong enough bear to write slash fanfiction about Fantasy Justin McElroy, involving Faris or otherwise. so thank you for understanding here’s some gay shit.

(post game spoilers, specifically post-Act 3 Hotto) also here’s some mood music

Faris was someone who lived for the moment, and in the moment. Cheery, lackadaisical, more carefree than a prince could probably afford to be, but he was, and when all was said and done, Ryu greatly relied on that. Faris had always been what he wasn’t, simple and loud but full of love and fun and light. Tomorrow was always another day, another gift, another chance, and it was Faris who reminded him that constantly.

He didn’t have many memories of his time under the fell dragon’s thrall, only fragments of fire and brimstone and his mother’s pleading voice. But he remembered Faris and his freedom, and the thought of a second chance helped keep some part of him alive in the beast.

How they became friends in the first place, Ryu couldn’t say. It simply happened, Faris would say, they were children, and it was what children did, and here they were now: a very simple answer, a very Faris answer, and an answer Ryu could not argue. Ryu did not argue Faris on many things, as it stood. He did not argue when Faris asked him to teach him of the plants of Hotto, rather than their steelwork. He did not argue when Faris would plead they spend more time in the springs than they did hunting. And he most certainly did not argue when Faris would ask to sleep in his room, scared of the darkness in an unfamiliar land.

It surprised Ryu now that Faris would ask for that final favor again. They weren’t children, anymore, and even if Faris was still faint at heart, Ryu knew he wasn’t as helpless as he may have believed. But Faris was insistent in his request, humble and meek but loud and clear.

“Please. Stay with me tonight.” He’d said. “I do not want to be alone.”

And Ryu, as with all other times, did not turn him away.

He watched Faris sleep now, the prince having rolled onto his futon long into the night, and onto the sleeve of Ryu’s robe--again, something he used to do when they were young and he was scared, but it seemed more telling now. A year’s absence had brought many chances to his old friend, many of which Ryu couldn’t name, but something was there that wasn’t before. Faris was different, bold as always but with the confidence now to match, and a way with words Ryu knew he could never attain.

Faris was, perhaps, not the wisest man, but he had the guile of twenty, and he never said anything without intent. And it dawned on Ryu then, as the sun dawned on the village, that his request was just the same. Like the rest of Hotto, Faris thought him dead for a year. Like the rest of Hotto, he must have mourned him. Cried over him. In different ways, perhaps he still was.

He was as relieved Ryu was alive, as he was scared that he was not.

It took much to make Faris frown, let alone weep, and it was a tragic sort of fondness that Ryu did not think he deserved, but was honored he had been bestowed. He wondered if Faris knew he had given it to him at all. It was always hard to say what he was thinking.

But the sun rose again on Hotto, and with it, Ryu and his duties. His mother would be expecting him to ready the shrine for the day, and much as he wanted to stay and ask Faris himself, it simply wasn’t an option this time. Another time, perhaps, but for now, if Faris was going to give him the gift of his care, then Ryu could do the same.

Near his bedding, Ryu kept a dagger. With one hand he grasped it, pulling it from his sheath, and he sliced a careful cut through the sleeve of his robe. With nary a sound, his arm was freed, and Faris slept on undisturbed, burying his face into the discarded cloth.

Satisfied, Ryu drew back, and smiled, watching Faris sleep for a moment longer. He would never be as loud as Faris, with his words or his actions, but he could be just as simple in his intent, and he knew that Faris would understand his meanings.

“I’ll keep on singing.” He whispered, to the rising summer sun, and the warm summer knight. “With you, I can go forward. Not lost, anymore.”