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Nom thinks that one of his least lauded, yet most important, skills is observation. Every fight is a dance of rapid attention, the smallest shift of the hips or shoulders, the angle of the blade, the place where his opponent looks- all of it counts, all of it is life or death. He picks up patterns quickly, he notices what others don’t. And, sure, he’ll be one of the first to admit he doesn’t always notice when it’s something nice compared to when it’s dangerous, but he will notice.
It’s how he finds himself stuck now.
Every day he sees Scott leave his home just before sunrise. He steps outside dressed simply for the hard work he does first, tending to their crops. The whole field of wheat, potatoes, and carrots are harvested, resown, and magically imbued. Their growth should take weeks or months, but Scott makes it take a single day each time. Crops he harvests last longer than what anyone else picks, so while he gets some help, it’s one of his daily duties. Without his blue cape it’s harder to see him in the fields, especially the wheat fields where his blonde hair blends in readily. But the way he smiles, the slight tilt of his head as he speaks with the crops, feels like a beacon that shines more brightly from the weak dawn’s light.
4c once told Nom that Scott speaks to the plants like people. Asking how they’re doing, thanking them for their bounty, updating them on kingdom comings and goings. He likes to watch the young mage in the fields and imagines the sort of things he must be saying. Mostly sweet and factual, the occasional exasperation thrown in. He wonders if Scott ever gets snarky in the fields the way he does with Nom.
He had been beyond delighted the afternoon that Scott forgot his company. Grinning evilly as they heard that Owain had dealt with “the freak” and then with his most innocent voice replied, “But Nom’s still here.” He’d been so self satisfied that the only response he had to Nom holding his shield up was to hold his arms out in invitation. Sure Nom got a few shrieks from the others as he bashed into the mage, but he’d heard the way Scott cackled as he fell into the water below. Nom had waited until he was sure Scott was in ear shot before grumbling, “I can’t believe that he hates me and thinks I’m a freak!” because he knew it would get another laugh.
He liked that Scott could actually relax like that around him.
After his morning crop work, Scott would stop at the castle to put it all away. Potatoes into the autofurnace and the rest in the keep. He always paused on the bridge to watch the sunlight slowly fill the Blue Kingdom. The little grass patch by the door was covered in wildflowers now, thick enough to feel spongy underfoot. Scott would watch with only the faintest smile, sometimes a small frown if he was in thought, surveying the work they’d done and noting what else was needed.
It was one of Nom’s favorite morning rituals to look for the mage up there. Face still shining with sweat and flushed with exertion. It wasn’t a look many would call beautiful, Scott flushed unevenly, blotchy with patches. The sun barely peeking over the castle left his eyes sunken, the perpetual bags under them heavier, his cheeks gaunt. Nom was not like many people he supposed. It was a comforting sight.
Scott would jump on his giant lilies back to his cottage and would do a quick round with the flowers he was cultivating. Like the crops he would cut many of them to take inside, speaking with them and imbuing the planters with magic enough to grow new flowers. He never cleared them fully, only a few from each. Scott usually had a bouquet of them by his bed, and often made bouquets for other members of the kingdom. Nom had been perhaps too sappy about finding a bunch of poppies, tulips, and cornflowers surrounded with baby’s breath and large green leaves down at the well, well, well. But he had been very pleased when a few days later as they languished, that Scott had swung by again in his absence and planted the flowers anew in the moss. It shouldn’t have worked, but his magic made the difference, allowing Nom to look out his window when eating breakfast to look at them all again.
Once that was all done Scott would finally go back inside to tend to his greenhouse, bathe, and dress fully for the day.
When Scott had been ill he’d been quite grumpy about the loss of his routine. Mae and 4c did much of the crop work, Nom had watered the flowers having taken care of them previously, and Owain helped with cooking and storing. It had been handled easily enough but Scott had still woken each morning to Nom bringing him a tea with a small fevered pout and whine.
As cute as that had been, nostalgic for Nom as it was to how Katie used to act while ill, it paled in comparison to the quiet contentment that Scott brought most mornings.
He craved it now that he’d lost it entirely.
The first few days of Scott’s reign had been taken up for Nom with establishing relations anew with the Red Kingdom, the dungeon, and then training Princess Cherri. He hadn’t been in the kingdom enough to look for Scott in the morning. When he looked on the fourth and didn’t see him, Nom wasn’t too concerned. The king was busier than ever with the crown, and with only a brief couple of months at his disposal he would be forced to move quickly to ensure his rule was prosperous instead of wasted. On the fifth day he didn’t see Scott and realized that he hadn’t seen the mage since the beach. On the sixth he became upset, sure that Scott was avoiding him over their stupid never-should-of-been-a fight. Nom ran the dungeon, worked on his projects, failed to sleep, and let himself be bitter in his concern.
He chose something for himself and was now being punished by the man who’d encouraged it, Nom was full to rights allowed to be angry about it.
On the eighth day he cracked and became concerned enough to go to the castle and investigate. The king had things to do, but Scott had a routine that helped ground him. Where the hell was he?
Nom had been in the castle since the new monarch was selected, of course, but often jumped through one of the back windows to access the treasury for any materials he needed. It was a bit of a shock to realize how much the throne room had changed, and to then realize what that must mean.
Lush glowberry vines and azalea leaves drooped from the ceiling to nearly the floor in many places. They made the room feel more regal, more ancient to him, same as the prismarine that now framed the throne. Two beautiful and large paintings adorned the walls. His breath was nearly taken away, if not for the small chuckle that left him on seeing the raised flower planters. Of course Scott would fill the once empty and imposing space with plant life, but it was still very quaint and almost out of place.
His enjoyment tapered as he looked up at the ceiling again and realized that nothing appeared to have been placed there, so much as grown. Scott had told him before that wherever he stayed long enough things would grow naturally, lamenting that it had, on at least a few occasions, resulted in dead wood growing new branches or leaves in terrible locations. Nom had laughed at the time, picturing a spider vine popping up suddenly and tapping someone’s legs or head, scaring them half to death.
How much time had Scott been spending in here to warrant this kind of growth?
Actually, now that he was thinking about it, he hadn’t noticed the light on at Scott’s cottage in the evenings either. Nor at night, although that wasn’t as common, the mage often seemed to wake for random intervals at night. Nom was sure it was nightmares but when he’d asked they hadn’t been very close, so Scott had simply said he had trouble sleeping sometimes.
Clearly he was going home at some point, the flowers and greenhouse looked as healthy as ever. Equally obvious was that he was spending a great deal of his time in the castle now.
Was it Scott’s sense of duty that kept him here, or was it an avoidance tactic? Nom hoped it wasn’t, he knew logically that it probably wasn’t about him at all, but his heart hurt both sharp and dull with the fear. His paranoia had been tempered by concern, but it fluttered all the same. Despite what everyone thought, Nom wasn’t an idiot when it came to emotions, it was just that when they hit he felt… less in control than he’d like. A contrast to Scott who shut down under bigger emotions, vanishing into thin air at times. He’d said and meant it before, Scott made a good king because he cared enough to try even when it was difficult.
So why wasn’t he still trying with Nom? Why was he keeping himself locked away in the castle, indoors and contained, when the queens had wandered actively and widely? Had one stupid little white lie really caused all this or was it just an excuse to focus on his new duties? Nom could’ve spent the whole day there spiraling.
It was a cough that alerted him to not being alone, despite the early hour. Nom slowly took the stairs up to the library, and then passed it to the small office they’d built for general use. The next cough made him wince with sympathy, his ribs nearly twinging with the sound. Whoever that was needed to get some damned rest to recover.
Nom stared as Scott cleared his throat, wheezing slightly as he used a small handkerchief to wipe his mouth, red cherries and pink flowers covered it. Graecie’s. It had to be hers. It made his stomach sour.
“Can you not?” Scott huffed to himself, apparently talking to his own coughs. “I’m trying to get work done, you’re making it rather difficult.”
As much as Nom hated seeing Graecie’s presence here, as much as he felt an irrational surge of anger and fear, he also felt a warm wave of honeyed amusement that blanketed it all; allowing him to force some calm.
“Didn’t know my mere presence was enough to warrant such a rebuke!” Nom chuckled and did his best not to laugh too hard as Scott startled and banged his knee on the desk. “In fact, I take offense!”
Scott blinked up at him in surprise for a split second before doubling over to grab his knee, quietly hissing between his teeth as he rocked a bit side to side. “Ssshhhh- ahhhhhh. Shhhhh, ahhhh!” A whole jest and a half, but one that Nom still enjoyed.
“Faking injury to ignore me!? Rude! He hates me!”
Scott’s normal act of faking injury was dropped instantly, but his hesitance was glaringly obvious.
His eyes were bloodshot. His hair was more of a mess than usual. The crown now had flowers growing around it, which was probably the only reason it hadn’t slipped off his head. He looked a bit pale, sallow even for him. Yeah. The king needed some damned sleep and rest.
“Not to be an asshole, but you don’t look very good.” Nom winced as he did a once over. Of course Scott had probably worried himself into another illness. There used to be a joke about the “King/Queen’s Cough”, pretty much everyone was guaranteed to fall ill during their reign just from the stress.
Scott grinned up at him and even in the weak light of his lamp, the room seemed a bit brighter for it. “We don’t speak for nearly a week and the first thing you say to me is that I look bad? Nom, bud, we’ve got to talk about terrible opening lines.”
“Hey! I said I wasn’t trying to be rude!” He laughed, relieved that Scott was at least in good spirits.
“Yeaaaah, so, funny thing, saying ‘not to be rude’ and actually not being rude are two different things.” Scott half waved him in as he began to sort and stack the pages in front of him.
Nom decided not to ask what any of it was, he didn’t need to know and didn’t want to know either. “And I repeat, he hates me! I can’t believe that Scott Springwell hates me personally!”
Scott winced but tried to keep his smile up. His lack of response was as awkward as before.
Once was a fluke, twice could be incidental.
God, he’s sensitive! Nom hated the thought, even if it wasn’t wrong. Scott was quite sensitive to many things. He could roll with the punches, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bruise.
“I’m joking, I know you love me.” Nom smiled as roguishly as he could, still being a bit stupidly hopeful that it would work and they could just pretend they never had a fight in the first place.
But Scott’s smile only became more awkward, which genuinely was a feat. I knew he was avoiding me, this just proves it. He doesn’t want me to know he hates me now because he hates confrontation. Nom bit his tongue unsure which bits of that were fully appropriate to say anything on. But if the king wasn’t going to admit to it, then it fell to Nom to solve their conflict instead.
Why was he always the one who had to try and fix things? A bit of bitterness lodged in his throat as he tried to keep the conversation flowing. “Soooo… how’s it been? King cough killing ya it sounds like?”
“King cough?” Scott’s head tilted before he glanced down at the handkerchief and chuckled as he tucked it away into his breast pocket. “Not sure if that’s what it is, I actually feel totally normal except I cough every so often. It’s inconsistent, but persistent I suppose. Otherwise… good? I suppose? Kingdom hasn’t collapsed yet, but I still have time.”
Fucking finally! If Nom had gotten hung out to dry again he would’ve literally jumped out a window to avoid any further conversation.
“Love that positive attitude you always have. Never say never.”
Scott finally laughed at that one, relaxing a bit as he stepped around the table. The crown was mostly hidden now by the flowers, but the sapphire and a bit of gold still glinted as he walked forwards. “You know me, can do attitude. Besides, I only said we were going big places, I never said it was going to be good places.”
“Exaaac’ly!”
Scott’s teeth gleamed in the low light, his eyes sparkled, his grin became boyish. “I still like that I infected you with that.”
“Oh my god!” Nom shouted for an imaginary audience, “I’ve said it like that for years!”
“Nah, that’s all me. It’s very me, in fact.”
“Say the witch built a fence around her carrot patch. I dare you.”
Scott only grinned wider and instead said, “Hayeete.”
“This guy, this guy!” Nom dramatically turned on his heel, turning his nose up high enough to basically be looking at the ceiling. “I come looking for you out of concern for your wellbeing and this is how I’m treated!”
Scott snickered behind him, arms crossed over his chest and clearly trying to look casual. “And that is very sweet of you. Thank you.”
Oh. Okay, not a joke back, he was expecting a joke back. He cleared his throat and forced his hands to stay at his sides instead of fidgeting. “Of course …I hadn’t seen you doing your morning routine and wanted to check in.”
“I’m fine, but thank you.”
Ohhhh that ground his gears. “...it doesn’t look or sound fine, Scott.”
Scott’s gaze darted aside before he shrugged. “Well, I know the cough sounded bad, but I promise, really-”
“It’s more than a cough, Scott. You know, for how upset you got at me for fibbing, you certainly are lying to me right now.”
Shit. Okay. Not what he’d meant to say at all, the hypocrisy was just killing him and-
“I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
Nom snorted. “Okay, how about the truth.”
“You seemed rather upset last time I was fully honest. Besides, it’s a small fib, right? …I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” Scott sighed and rubbed gently at his chest as he stared off into the distance. “Genuinely, I’m doing alright. I’ve got the cough, didn’t manage to get any sleep last night, and I’m a bit overwhelmed with everything the crown means. It’s not pleasant, but it’s not bad either. It’s just okay, I suppose.”
He hated that the honesty actually hurt more than the jab. High and fucking mighty aren’t we? Nom did not like the tone his thoughts took, the way he could feel himself slipping already. He needed to get a fucking grip, he’s the one who started it anyways!
“How’ve you been? I know we haven’t seen each other much.” Scott looked at him carefully, but not critically. It felt dissonant with everything else.
Who’s fault is that?
“Fine. I suppose like you, not bad but not great. Just making it work for the moment.”
Scott’s eyes went flinty for a moment before flickering with pain. He looked away with a heavy sigh as he nodded. “Okay. …have you had a chance to chat yet with Katie or Graecie?”
Why couldn’t he just say it had been bad? He’d had a shitty week. A shitty month! Why couldn’t he just say it was going badly? The crown was there glaring him down, but it was something more than that. His friend had basically cut and run as soon as he’d been a little upset, even knowing everything Nom was going through. It was both, it compounded. He couldn’t tell where the lines were drawn anymore. “Depends on who’s asking. Is it my friend or is this kingdom business?”
He had not expected Scott to bark out a harsh laugh. The mage turned away from him for a moment, not walking anywhere just not looking at him, before suddenly turning back around looking more tired than ever. “Is there anything I can say that would be proof enough for you that it’s always just me when we’re like this?”
No. “I don’t know. I’d have to think on it.” Not while you wear that crown.
“I see.” Something in Scott shifted. It wasn’t a look, it wasn't his body language, yet all the same something seemed to change. “Don’t worry about it then. As you can see, I’m well enough to keep functioning. No need to worry about me or the kingdom.”
“God sake, you can’t go demanding I’m honest with you over every little thing and then turn around and lie to me!” Nom snapped, and didn’t even have a chance to feel truly guilty about it.
“Difference is I’m not lying, you just don’t like what I’m saying anymore it seems. I don’t know how to talk with you when it doesn’t matter what I say or how I say it.”
“Oh get off your high horse, your majesty, you’re not well suited to it! I don’t like what you’re saying because obviously you aren’t good, you aren’t fine, you just don’t trust me enough to share a bit back. You just want me to spill my guts to you. Friendship doesn’t work like that!”
Scott looked at him sadly. “You don’t even remember what I just said. Or perhaps you just weren’t listening. It’s not that I don’t want to share with you, I just don’t know what to say to you.”
“You keep saying that, but you did before!” Nom could feel it building inside him. The feeling of being a little tin soldier ordered around for someone else’s amusement and comfort. “I just want you to speak with me!”
“...you want me to be open and vulnerable and speak with you while you shout assumptions and misunderstandings at me?”
Nom’s teeth clicked as his mouth snapped shut. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what it sounds like you’re doing. You aren’t asking me- you’re demanding that I tell you something, and then when I tell you the truth you are upset that it isn’t… I don’t even know, broken enough? You don’t have to fix everything Nom. You don’t have to fix me. And yelling at me and accusing me of lying to you when I’m telling you the truth doesn’t make me want to keep being honest with you. It makes me want to lie.”
“Like you haven’t- you know what? Fine! Then lie, go ahead, I’m giving you permission, lie to me!”
It was kind of horrifying to watch, if he was being honest.
Scott’s face shuttered completely, becoming fully neutral and stoney as his body tensed unnaturally. Then it relaxed again and he broke into a wide, unnatural smile. Not that it looked bad on his face, only that Nom realized he’d never once seen Scott smile so widely, so… happily before. His voice was absolutely chipper as he spoke, “I’m doing so great, thanks for asking! Life is perfect! I’m so happy that I was chosen to be the king, I’m getting everything I ever wanted out of it and it’s made my life so much better!” Then the facade dropped into something else, something sharp. “Is that what you wanted? Or do you want the whole unvarnished truth?”
This time Scott didn’t change anything about himself before he spoke, “The universe likes to see me suffer, nothing good ever lasts, everyone I care for leaves in the end, and nothing I do will ever be enough. You can’t fix that Nominal. No one can. I can’t even fix that, that’s the natural order of things, all I can do is control how I react to it. So right now, as of this second: no one I love is dying in my arms because I couldn’t save them, the kingdom isn’t in flames and open rebellion, the Red Kingdom isn’t attacking us because the spirits chose the worst possible person to be king. That makes today a good day, but in the grander scope of things it’s a wash. It’s neutral. It’s… fine.”
He’d been wound up when Scott feigned happiness, he didn’t know what he was feeling exactly at the end of it. Was that the truth? Was that how Scott actually felt and thought, or was it just another lie to make him back off? That can’t be what Scott thinks, because that’s my life, not his.
“...okay. I got it now. You don’t have to mock me for it.” Nom wasn’t even aware that he’d walked forward until he was tilting his head back to glare up at Scott. “I get that you’re going through something, but you don’t have to drag me through the mud to make a god damned point! You don’t get to do that!”
Scott looked exactly the way he had when Nom first found him. Mostly tired, a bit surprised and a little sad. “Why are you putting words in my mouth again? At what point did I mock you? You told me to lie to you so I did. Then I told you the whole truth, which you said you wanted too and-”
“And now you’re lying again! What was the point of all that talk therapy last week, were you just trying to get in my head!? Did you want to build me up just to tear me down? Why does EVERYONE want to kick me when I’m fucking down!?” His head actually ached, his hands felt empty. He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself, he- they were too close, too damned close and he- he shoved Scott without thinking, freezing as soon as he had.
Scott hadn’t been afraid of him, hadn’t been worried about Nom’s violent streak turning on him, and, thus, hadn’t been prepared. He tried to keep his footing, but instead fell hard onto his back. The crown popped off his head as it smacked onto the floor, it landed with a clang and rolled slowly away from them. Scott lay on the floor looking up at him, the sliver of the morning sun that shone through the windows cut across his body at a harsh angle. He looked scared.
He looked so scared.
Nom could only hope he looked as horrified as he felt, but he knew from experience that he probably looked blank. He’d trained for that, to have a non-reaction, to control himself. Shame it rarely worked the way he wanted it to.
Scott vanished.
Nom couldn’t fucking breathe. He tried to inhale, but it stuttered as he stared at the spot Scott had been in moments before. It was like the stupid skeleton all over again. One moment he was looking at Scott and then next he’d watched his body fall boneless to the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back. Nom had thought Scott was dead, he’d frozen as the skeleton immediately turned to attack Nom instead. Arrows glanced off his armor until a few found the weak spots. He hadn’t moved until Scott had groaned and curled up, then the skeleton was dead twice over and the guilt was too heavy to bear. This was worse because this time it had been him.
He’d laid hands on not just his friend, but his king. His mind screamed in panic at the thought. His mouth opened to brokenly call out, “S-scott?”
No one answered.
He was probably long gone. He was smart, he was quick, he was nimble. Scott was probably long gone.
Nom choked as he fought himself for air. Managing too many fires, like he was fighting himself a hundred times over. He didn’t cry only because tears didn’t come for him anymore, after Katie it was like he’d lost the ability with her. “Scott?” He whispered, taking a shaky step forward before stumbling to his knees. One hand locked in his hair, the other pulled at his gorget to get some fucking air in before he passed out. Why was his armor so fucking tight? Had his throat swollen? His chest felt like a boulder was crushing it. Maybe Scott had reduced the size of his armor? No. No, he wouldn’t do that. That was a stupid thought. It was just Nominal being stupid again. Always being stupid again.
He shuffled forward on his knees, eyes still locked on the last place he’d seen Scott, before he collapsed forwards. He wanted to curl in on himself, he needed to breathe on the floor for a while, he didn’t care who saw him or what it would look like. He didn’t fucking care. What’s the point? Nothing good ever lasts, and Nom would always fly off the handle. That’s just who he was, it’s just how things go.
Nom jerked as his face hit something soft and warm instead of hard, cold wood when he dropped like a sack of potatoes. Two large warm hands warped around his face and head, the thing under him shifted. Scott began to cough, his stomach jumped violently under Nom’s head and he finally realized that Scott hadn’t left. He hadn’t left. Oh god I basically just headbutted a sick man in the stomach!
“Scott!” Nom scrambled to try and get himself up without losing track of the mage, although he supposed it didn’t matter much as Scott’s arms locked tightly around his head keeping him in place. “God damn, man, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you were- I thought you’d-”
He pulled his hand away from his own throat to press against Scott’s side, running it up to grip at his shoulder in a pale attempt at comfort. His left was a bit too trapped by their position, so he turned it to grip Scott’s forearm or wrist, something on the arm attached to the hand that had a death grip on his hair. Which fucking hurt, shit, god damn!
The coughing eventually calmed and Scott’s grip relaxed as he lay wheezing on the floor. Nom carefully pulled himself up, using his right to stay steady as his left hand ran up Scott’s arm to his shoulder, then neck, then to cup his jaw and cheek. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get a potion or- or a healer? Do you have healing spells on you?”
“I’m fine,” Scott wheezed before giving a very strained giggle, “actually, no I’m not, but I will be. H-healing doesn’t help much with this. Cam already tried for me and Sir Bek. Mae gave me some stew but, well, not much from that either. Just n-needs to run its course.”
He wished he wasn’t wearing his gloves and gauntlets, it was hard to feel what Scott’s face was doing. Was he smiling? Frowning? Was he furious? He carefully swept his thumb, trying to figure out any information while staring at the spruce flooring under Scott’s head.
“That doesn’t seem good.” Nom grumbled.
Scott loudly cleared his throat, gently gripping Nom’s wrist but not pulling his hand away. Oh that was just a weird sensation. Talking to an invisible mage was always weird and awkward and he didn’t like it. “Uhm, I know I have no right to ask anything of you after causing all this. But, ah, you’re still invis…just so you know.”
“What?” Scott’s face tilted forwards in his hand. “Ah.” There was a long pause before his body slowly faded back into existence. Starting at his chest, just above where his heart was, and spreading across him. He looked a bit wane, but smiled sardonically after opening his eyes and verifying his magic had stopped. “There, back in the land of the visible.”
“You scared the shit out of me, I’m not gonna lie.” Nom chuckled weakly and flinched as Scott’s wince. “Right, right, uhm, are you… okay?”
God he was just going to step in it and relive every fuck up their whole conversation had been filled with wasn’t he? He was so stupid it was genuinely unreal at times.
“You aren’t stupid,” Scott frowned, looking a bit offended.
“You say that, but see, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, so, therefore-”
Scott covered his mouth with his hand. “Please stop saying horrible things about my friend Nom, I will have to find someone to kick your ass and that sounds like a hassle right now.”
“Thought you wanted honesty?” Nom mumbled under his hand, and then licked it.
Unlike Katie, Scott didn’t shriek or yank his hand back, instead he lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “Okay, thank you for telling me how you feel. The only thing stupid about you is that you actually believe that when I already know it’s not true.”
“...can you not therapize me with your hand over my mouth?”
“Can you have this conversation without saying mean things about yourself or assuming the worst in me?”
“Meeehhhhhhh,” Nom snorted as Scott’s hand went from rest to grasping instead, fully muffling him. “Rude.”
“Humor to cope, trust me, I get it. I’m serious, Nom.”
He was still thinking over his reply when the worst thing that could happen, did happen.
Owain turned the corner loudly speaking, “Good morning, your majesty, I had a quick report to…” and then stared down at them on the floor.
Where Scott was under him, flushed and still heaving a little for air, the crown had been discarded on the floor, and Nom was half on top of him with his face in a surprising vice grip and glasses slipping down his nose from the sweat dripping off his face post crashout.
“Ah.” Said Owain.
“UHM!?” Squeaked Nom.
“I know what this looks like, and I have no good defense.” Scott said far too reasonably and without refuting anything, the traitor.
“Right,” Owain coughed, “shall I return in an hour then?”
“An hour!?” Nom gasped as Scott finally let him go. “Good god man, what kind of stamina do you think I have!?”
Scott bursting into snickers and curling to bury his face in the crook of Nom’s arm did not help anything.
“Quite a bit from the battlefield at least, but this is more to make yourselves… presentable. By your leave, your grace.”
Scott was still laughing as he waved a hand towards Owain, who bowed deeply and walked backwards in his bow until he disappeared from sight. Nom looked at Scott, who looked like one of the many speckled mushrooms around his house, and then they both lost it. Howling with laughter that he knew for a fact The Lion would still be close enough to hear.
“Oh my god, Nom, you can’t just traumatize Owain like that!”
“He was making an attempt on my life, Scott, an attempt on MY LIFE! An hour!?”
Scott slapped his arm, “Are you saying you’re so poor a lover you can’t last an hour?”
Nom stared down at Scott as his brain supplied one too many graphic images to contend with. “YOU CAN!?”
Owain made a sound of disgust that just happened to bounce off the stones and stairs loud enough to be heard, making them both lose it cackling again. Scott still made a valiant effort to speak through it, “It’s c-called foreplay, Nom! Foreplay and f-fingers and-”
“Wait a minute.” Nom gasped, barely able to contain himself. “I have free will!” He stumbled to his feet and turned towards the nearest window. “I have free will!”
Instead of a fake escape, he ended up with a still laughing Scott latched onto his back.
“No, let me go! My free will!!” Nom staggered them forward enough to at least crack it open for some fresh air, after which Scott at least let go to sit on the window ledge. Nom barely managed to lean against the stone wall and decided a little space between them would do the world good. Or at least Nom good.
It took far too long for them to both calm down, as each time one of them almost stopped the other would begin to laugh again. It only slowed once Scott was wracked with another fit of coughing, as it finally took the wind fully out of their sails.
“Okay, I know you said it has to run its course, but that really sounds bad.”
Scott waved his hand weakly, the other pulling the handkerchief free to wipe at his mouth again, then his eyes and forehead. Hiding as much evidence of the mirth and illness as he could. It did little for the redness though. “I know, but genuinely I feel fine when I’m not coughing. It’s a bit, erm, active this morning, but I think I can be excused considering… everything.”
Nom winced. “Yeah.”
The silence was thick this time, not awkward, but heavy enough to be noticed.
“Nom, we do need to talk about this all.”
Damn him for being the voice of reason. “Can we wait? Just a little bit?”
And damn himself for being a coward.
Scott sighed, but after a minute nodded. “Okay. I don’t want to force you to talk if you aren’t ready, just- can you understand I don’t know how to act around you when this keeps happening?”
“...yeah. Yeah I get it. Can you just- just pretend a little? Act a little like it isn’t there? I need to sort my thoughts.” He hated the half lie even as it passed his lips. He hoped Scott would just forget and he’d have enough time to learn how to deal with it on his own. He wanted the conversation to be both of them saying sorry I lied and then moving on forever, and there was no way Scott would accept that.
“I can’t do that, I can keep being who I’ve always been towards you though. A friend.” Scott smiled a bit sadly as he said it. “I need you to trust that I’m not lying to you or doing something to be mean to you or trap you. Nothing about how I act has changed, Nom.”
Ouch. Ouch and ouchie, even. “I do trust you. I just…” he glared at the crown, still resting on the floor. Still resting on the floor? Huh. “I promise, it’s not you. It really isn’t you.”
“Okay. I believe you. Thank you. For trusting me, that is.”
Nom wanted to be upset about that, he could feel something trying to stir but after the whirlwind of a fucked up morning he’d had there was no footholds for it to take root. “Thank you, and I always do.”
When he finally looked up, he realized that Scott had leaned forward. This close he could see the dark green, almost grey speckles in his eyes. The sunlight drifted through a few wisps of his hair making them a halo of gold. He was giving that small, sweet smile where his left eye squinted a bit more than his right, dimples barely showing. Relaxed. Content with the answer, happy for it. Nom swallowed as something else surged through his chest then, but much like the anger or the bitterness or whatever that had been, it passed without catching.
Nom looked away first, clearing his throat before turning back to Scott with a grin. “You know what I always say at times like these?”
Scott’s smile somehow melted into something softer. “What?”
Nom pulled his dice bag up off his hip and shook it, “In times of emotional turmoil, farkle!”
Scott laughed, the loud half shriek one, the one that said he’d been caught fully off guard and loved the joke. The one that made Nom light up like a bonfire and made him want to cause it more often. It wasn’t a pretty laugh, but it was the best one.
He placed the bag down on the window ledge and waved a hand to get Scott to start pulling everything out. And while it made his fingers tingle to pick up the crown, it didn’t burn the way he expected as he handed it over to Scott. Nom had enough sense left in him to not say anything when Scott simply tied it to his belt instead of putting it back on.
He didn’t feel relieved for the morning, if anything he felt nervous for the talk now delayed and compounded.
But for the first time in a week, Nom got to enjoy watching the sun rise on Scott’s contented face, and it brought some semblance of peace with it.