Chapter 499 - 500: All Of Us Again.

Chapter 499: Chapter 500: All Of Us Again.

They’re the ones Rogard is proud to call his friends.

And he knows he made the right choice; knew it the moment he turned his back on his father and felt a weight lift up off him as though just the simple act of defiance had been enough to shake off the crushing pressure of his father’s expectations that he’d unknowingly been shouldering his entire life. Every day that he wakes up and doesn’t have that descend on him again he knows , but being here with them all tonight makes him all the more certain that he made the right choice.

That this is where he’s meant to be.

It’s funny, strange, and a little sad in a way, that he came so close to never knowing this kind of freedom. That if the king had kept Khobi locked a little tighter, if the castle guards had been just a little better at their jobs, things could have been different. Or rather, the same as they had always been. Because if Khobi hadn’t escaped from his room that night, if he’d taken but a couple of different turns, he never would’ve attacked him in front of his father, and then Rogard never would’ve gone to the training grounds for revenge.

And if he’d never gone to the training grounds, chances are that he wouldn’t be here tonight.

It all sounds quite romantic in his head, but because he’s drunk he doesn’t quite manage to convey his gratitude the first time around without offending everyone involved. Most of the difficulty comes from trying to get Montrel to understand that he means it as a good thing that he’s not very good guard sometimes, but at this time of night and at this level of inebriation there’s not much that a free drink can’t smooth over.

Too bad for Rogard, he’s clean out of gold. That is, until Khobi sees him frantically searching through his pockets –because he definitely brought more with him, he definitely did –and puts a palmful of gold down on the bar so that Rogard doesn’t have to suffer the indignity of being sent away empty handed.

"You’ve bought me plenty," he explains with a small shrug. Rogard could cry.

" Khobi –" Rogard wails, launching himself at him without warning and flinging both arms around his neck. In a strange turn of events, Khobi doesn’t dodge him, elbow him in the ribs, or cringe. Instead he catches him with both hands, and laughs like he just can’t help himself. Rogard knew he didn’t mind it when he did that; he knew it.

"No chance you’re gonna drop the lame nickname, huh?" Khobi chuckles helplessly, staggering under Rogard’s weight just to be dramatic.

"Not a chance~" Rogard promises with a wide grin, and then pouts, "My nicknames aren’t lame !"

"You’re right," Loac admits, sidling up out of nowhere to hang off Khobi’s shoulder as if to remind him that he’s still there. Rogard knows that move. Rogard invented that move. And just when he’s about to thank Loac for being such a great, supportive friend, he has to go and ruin it by adding, "They’re super lame."

"Well, well , would you look at you brats?" Montrel drawls before Rogard can get his protests in, shaking his head incredulously as he relieves the barmaid of an ale; face deep in a drunk-red flush and mouth curled into a loose grin. He’s been smiling all goofy like that since Xena got here, and it hasn’t dropped away even now that she’s gone. And even though he –like many of the other men here –has spent the last few hours in a pleasant alcohol-induced daze, there’s something surprisingly sober about the way he looks at the three of them standing there at the bar, loosely held up by Khobi in some way or other.

"...Finally all grown up, huh?"

It’s a pretty silly thing to say –they’ve been grown up for ages now –but there’s something about the misty way he says it that makes Rogard want to choke up for real this time.

No . Rogard promised himself that he absolutely would not cry tonight. Not for any reason. So he swallows down the lump in his throat, tells his lower lip to stop quivering, and flashes him his most polished, innocent smile as he jibes, "You should try it some time, Montrel ~"

Montrel has gotten a bit of a reputation for his loud voice and quick temper, and tonight has been no exception –the unfortunate misunderstanding only half a drink ago was testimony to that –yet for once his reaction is surprisingly soft.

"Brat," he huffs long-sufferingly, shaking his head and lightly knocking the side of his mug into his cheek, "Captain’s sure got his work cut out." A sidelong look at Loac, lounging easily against Khobi’s side and pretending that he’s not doing it on purpose, makes him chuckle wryly to himself, "...Must be a Captain thing."

" – Hey Kousuke, what’s taking so – hic –long?" Gandy hollers from somewhere across the tavern, and just like that Montrel’s signature irritated expression snaps right back into place, "We need someone else to start losing some gold over here..."

"Yeah yeah , I’m gettin’ there," he snaps back gruffy, and jerks his head back towards a table packed with all manner of strangers playing an increasingly raucous game of cards. Not only are there familiar Crade faces seated there, but there are a handful of commoners in the mix, and even a few soldiers Rogard’s seen about the castle accompanying some of the visiting nobility. Clearly word’s gotten around that this is the place to be.

As it should be.

Rogard and his father had their differences, but they both knew how to throw a party. He’s not sure how he’s going to throw a wedding to compete with Loac’s, but he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to try.

"Whaddaya say kid?" Montrel extends the challenge to Khobi, jerking his head in the direction of the table, where the Crade soldiers are getting their asses absolutely handed to them. Except Mural, obviously. "Shall we go win back some gold?"

"Well I know I will," Khobi quips back with a teasing smirk, pushing off the bar and ducking before Montrel can cuff him around the back of the head, "You sure you got any left to lose?"

The next blow lands, and Khobi snickers, flattening his hair back into place as he lets Montrel loop an arm around his shoulders and wheel him over to the game. And Loac thinks he plays it so smooth, but Rogard sees the way his face softens as he watches Khobi head towards the table and drags up a chair so that he can be dealt in for the next round; the way he’s been looking at him all night.

"So you finally figured it out, huh?" he remarks cheekily, suddenly realising that he’s got to be the only person in the tavern without a drink in his hand. It’s probably for the best.

"Figured out what?" Loac retorts smoothly, like there isn’t a single person completely monopolising his gaze. What a hypocrite.

"...That you like Khobi," Rogard replies easily; self-preservation gone right out the window with his inhibitions. " Like like him," he elaborates impishly, just in case he hadn’t quite made himself clear. See, he’s learned from his last misunderstanding.

Loac tears his gaze away from Khobi just long enough to send him a sidelong glance. Then he snorts under his breath, and resumes his shameless staring.

It feels like a yes . A secret admission. Which is quite exciting. Rogard hasn’t had a lot of friends close enough to share secrets with.

It’s only right he gives him one back.

"Can I tell you a secret, Loac?" Rogard finds himself saying on a conspiratorial whisper. Or at least, it’s supposed to be a whisper. He’s having some trouble keeping his voice down at the moment but the crowd is loud enough that it still feels like a whisper. And because it’s so loud he’s not sure if Loac says yes or not but that hardly matters; he’s gonna tell him anyways because it’s been killing him that no one else knows. "Noog asked me to marry him."

" What ?" Loac immediately baulks, eyes wide and eyebrows shooting high, "... Noog ? Asked you to –"

" Ssssssshhhhhhhh ," Rogard shushes loudly, pressing a finger to his lips and swaying so badly that Loac has to catch him. Well, he doesn’t have to, but it’s a good thing he does, " Drogger Noog! But ssssshhhhh it’s a secret – hic –at least until he asks me again."

Loac’s brow dips like he doesn’t understand. " –Why would he ask again if he already –"

" Sssssssshhhhhhh !" Rogard says, with more urgency this time, because it’s a secret ; what does Loac not understand about the word? Maybe it’s too loud in here after all. This really isn’t the best time is it? Not a good time for swapping secrets. Maybe they should have afternoon tea. That would be really nice. They haven’t had afternoon tea together in years –Loac always tried to get out of it –but he thinks that it might be different now.

Just because Rogard’s not in the castle anymore doesn’t mean he can’t still host afternoon tea. "I’ll tell you... later , m’kay?" he promises, and then tuts loudly, "It’s a deal , Loac, you gotta shake on it –"

Looking completely bewildered, Loac takes the hand Rogard sticks out and they shake.

"...You’ll be in my retinue, won’t you?" Rogard whispers, because even though he’d just resolved to talk about it later, he can’t help it. Loac’s getting married soon himself, after all. If Rogard was in his position (and he kind of is) he’d be wanting to talk about this sort of stuff. Gods, he has no idea how Loac can talk about anything else, although maybe it makes sense if he’s only just figured out that he likes Khobi in the same way Rogard likes Drogger. "When he asks? You, and – hic –Khobi, and Binny?" He frowns, deep in thought. "Maybe I’ll have to ask Vogrid, too. It would be nice if it was all of us again, right? Like when we were kids." He hiccups again, adding, "... ’Cept now there’s Khobi, too."

It suddenly occurs to him that Loac hasn’t given him a reply.

"You will, won’t you?" he presses, hands balling up in the scruff of Loac’s shirt; gold eyes wide and earnest. Yet Loac continues to stare at him, suddenly struck mute. Which is all good and well –Rogard loves the drama of a question out of nowhere –but it’s rude to not answer someone.

" Loac !" There are a few people who never folded for his whining, but that never stopped Rogard from trying. And tonight it finally works.

".... ’Course, Rogard," he says, surprisingly subdued for having been asked such an exciting thing, but Rogard doesn’t think on it too hard because he’s gotten his way. Loac’s promised, and he’ll hold him to that. "...Course I will."

" Good ," Rogard decides with finality, and holds out a wobbly hand to shake again because it’s a deal. The battle he’s been locked in with the alcohol in his system has been a long and inevitable one, and it feels like it’s finally starting to win because his eyes are starting to suddenly feel very heavy. It’s a good thing Loac grabs him by the hand and doesn’t so much shake it as use it to reel him into a tight hug, and he must be facing his own battles because when Rogard leans up and knocks their foreheads together with a lopsided smile, he makes no move to stop him. "...I’m glad we got to do this, Loac~" he says quietly, surprised by the embrace but welcoming it nonetheless. His forehead is sweaty but he’s content just like this. Just for a second.

"Me too," Loac says quietly, "Me too."