Chapter 370: What Was She Like.

Chapter 370: Chapter 370: What Was She Like.

Over the years Loac has often wondered if the guards in this castle are terrible on purpose, or just straight up negligent.

He’d tell his uncle that he needs to get some better soldiers, but it’s always suited him just fine so he keeps it to himself.

​They probably have no idea that Khobi’s gone.

​At least he’s closed the shutters behind him this time. He better be careful. It’s not even dark yet, and if Loac’s caught him sneaking back in through the window –which he has, twice –then it’s only a matter of time before one of the guards does.

And if Khobi gets his window boarded up, he’s gonna be pissed.

​"Hey, is Khobi done with his bath yet?"

Montrel inquires through the door, clearly annoyed that Loac slammed it in his face.

​" Nope ," Loac lies easily, making a beeline towards the window and cracking it open.

He knows that no matter how hard he cranes his neck he’ll see nothing but wall when he leans out unless Khobi’s literally on his way back down, but that doesn’t stop him from trying anyways.

​"Dinner’s gonna be up soon. Tell him if he’s not out we’re startin’ without him."

​"Sure," Loac drawls, distractedly adding, "I’m starvin’."

​It’s kind of true. He’s hungry.

​Just not for food.

​With practiced ease, he steps up onto the windowsill and swings himself out onto the stone wall beyond.

It’s easy to pick his way up; it’s a path he’s been climbing for years, after all, although he’d been mildly impressed that Khobi had remembered the way after having only climbed it once, and in the dark.

​(What he hadn’t seen was Khobi getting stuck at least half a dozen times on the way up and another half dozen on the way down, cursing himself and his cramping hands the whole time.)

​It’s easier with the sun still up, and when he finally clambers up and onto the rooftop, he’s not all that surprised to find himself facing Khobi’s back as he stares out at the darkening world beyond the city.

And while he probably could announce himself, where’s the fun in that?

​Instead, he slowly levers himself up and over the edge, treading light and silent as he skulks towards Khobi’s unsuspecting form.

​"Up here again?" he remarks casually, and immediately gets a fist swung at his head for his efforts; Khobi clearly having not expected company. And why would he? Loac’s the only other person who knows about this place.

​"Shit, what are you doing up here?" he curses as Loac neatly ducks under his fist and hooks him around the shoulders instead, dusting his hands off on his shirt.

​His shirt, he notices dimly. Why’s Khobi wearing his shirt ?

​It looks good on him.

​(Would probably look better if it wasn’t .)

​"I could ask you the same thing," Loac snorts reproachfully, resisting the urge to pout as Khobi shrugs him off so that he can lean his elbows on the ramparts and gaze out at the darkening horizon.

He’s allowed to be up here. Khobi, not so much. "Montrel thinks you’re having a bath."

​"I was ," Khobi states defensively, "...I just didn’t tell him when I got out. Don’t worry, I was about to head down anyways."

Loac wasn’t worried. He just doesn’t want his window getting barricaded shut. There are a couple other ways to get up here, but out through his window is the easiest.

​And even though he’s said that, it’s clear that Khobi actually has no intentions of heading back down just yet.

Which is fine with him; he likes it up here and he kind of likes that Khobi likes it up here, too. He should’ve expected to find him up here; it was clear out today and the mountains on the horizon are standing dark and proud against the fading light.

But despite being turned towards the horizon, for once Khobi’s gaze doesn’t seem focused on it at all, and while he doesn’t have that look on his face that makes Loac’s stomach knot, something still feels kind of off .

​Unsure as to why he does it, only that it feels like he should, Loac moves to fill the space next to him.

It’s a nice evening. Not too cold, considering the time of year, and when he looks out across the plains the blue of the sky has begun to melt into a red sunset.

​"...Xena came to see me today," Khobi says, eventually.

​"Xena did?" Loac remarks, eyebrow raised, "Why?"

​"To have tea ," he deadpans, stealing a look Loac’s way when he lets out a small snort of laughter.

​"That sounds like Xena," he sighs, shaking his head, "She loves that sort of shit."

​"Yeah, I got that," Khobi snickers dryly, turning his attention back towards the horizon. "...It wasn’t too bad. She just...reckoned we should get to know each other, or something."

​That also sounds like Xena.

​"Oh yeah?" Loac remarks, offhandedly, wondering what’s brought this on all of a sudden. "...You learn anything interesting?" Khobi mulls over the question for a moment, and eventually shrugs, "She doesn’t like frogs."

​"I said interesting –" Loac snorts.

​" – And I’m older than you."

​Now that makes Loac’s eyes narrow.

​" Bullshit ," he states, and Khobi flashes him a smug smirk as he gloats, "By three weeks."

​"That’s nothing ," he growls, elbowing him and then getting the same treatment right back, along with a quip about how he should really show his elders more respect.

Rogard always used to try that shit on him back when they were kids, and if Loac didn’t listen to it then, then he certainly isn’t gonna start now , and especially from Khobi .

The back and forth continues for some time as it always does and dimly Loac wonders when exactly he got so used to it; when he started asking for it and seeking it out.

(If Khobi does it because he feels as compelled to be up in his space as Loac feels to be up in his.)

​Then abruptly Khobi stills, and Loac again gets the disconcerting sense that something’s not quite right.

​"She...also told me about your ma," he admits, and Loac feels a small pang of irritation. (Or maybe it’s pain. He’s never too sure.)

​"Why?" he says flatly, eyes narrowing.

​"I asked," Khobi replies with a small shrug, "It...felt weird that I didn’t know."

​Why ?

​( Why would he ask about her ?)

​"What did she tell you?" he demands, fingers clenching into the stone beneath his palms, and Khobi must hear the change in his voice because he tenses in the space next to him.

​"Just that she got sick," he assures him uncomfortably, and Loac loosens his grip infinitesimally as he sends him a sidelong glance. "...She said anything else would be better coming from you."

​It’s not a question, but for some reason it kind of feels like one.

​"You don’t have to tell me anything," he mumbles, fidgeting with a piece of loose stone, "...I just..."

​Just what?

​"...It’s fine," Loac finds himself saying after a beat, annoyed with himself for getting annoyed with Xena for something she didn’t do. "What do you...wanna know?" From the look of surprise plastered across Khobi’s face, he wasn’t expecting that.

Neither was Loac, really. He’s not entirely sure why he said that. It would have been easy to have not said anything. He’s spent years doing it; what’s another day?

​Why do you want to know ?

​"...What was she like?" Khobi ventures hesitantly, and there’s something strangely earnest in his expression that evaporates some of the tension from Loac’s shoulders.

It’s not very often Khobi gets all serious like this. In the ring, sure, and sometimes in the kitchens, too.

But never like this; not when it’s just the two of them. In the red of the setting sun, he looks quite striking; brow creased and the crimson of his eyes smouldering like embers in the night. Loac wets his lips, and has to look away.

​What was ma like ?