#pretending to be a shithead (by actually being a shithead)...isnt a strategy? it's an excuse

[flowerflamestars]

No Graves snippet

It was too easy, to sink into living the life the Archeron’s carved out.   By the time Lucien awoke the next morning, in a slightly too-short bed that was among the furniture that had come with the property, they were already gone. A note greeted him, in Nesta’s slanting hand: furniture at 11, trees at 1, stay to sign.   A fire he hadn’t lit, hungry red that spit sparks to ask him, have you lost your mind? He did not need to see Eris, much less hear him, to understand the actual sentiment, though it bled from the question the kitchen hearth threw at him by the time Lucien was done brewing tea: that city is a godsforsaken death trap. The messages the High Lord is sending do not come from a well man. Do you need help? Lucien would have very much liked to read those missives. He could imagine the demands: armies, promises, money. Based on what? The name of the most famous traitor in the land, who no one had been surprised to see commit atrocities in Hyberns name, even compelled. Not after how he’d spent the last few centuries ruling the North.  SAPLING, the fire yelled.   An extra four hundred years that touched only Lucien was near enough to level their ages, which made the tone feel very unfair. Still fond, though. He was not actually offended enough to let the fire scorch Nesta’s new kitchen.   “I’m fine,” Lucien said, aloud, his own voice proof and magic too. Eris was Vanserra enough to feel every path through a forest- to be both outraged and know that something fundamental was changed. “Stop worrying and stay alive, old man. I’ll see you on the battle field.”   He’d see him at the summit of lords, but it was a sure enough warning: Lucien, like Eris, inclined still toward a single truth.   To fight if they had to, to stop the sort of carnage Hybern was capable of unleashing on their land.