#p: caildullah

[succiducus]

( @tormxntum ) the mughal empire had outdone themselves this time. in the aftermath of many nations grief they had gone and thrown caution to the wind for him and his army to catch. he had been walking the perimeter, off-shift; the corridors were quieting, guests had gone to bed, however, off in the distance, the sounds of chatter echoed. the sun had gone down long ago, the moon was ripe, casting shadows out across the courtyard like paintings upon artistic tile. the gardens were empty, no movement catches his attention in the fields; he was alone. with his attention on his feet as he rounds a corner, he doesn't see them until he's standing out in the open. dark curls, pretty eyes, strong cheekbones, agility, command; he supposed, if the light of the moon had struck them in any other way, his breath might've stilled in his chest. instead he stood still, watching them from a silent distance, the quick pace of their heart causing tremors to erupt in their hands. they persuaded their mind into believing they felt like earthquakes, their aftershocks felt by cailean's energy field, wishing to draw them closer, even though they wished to remain separate. profanity hits the air, his feet take him forward to find cover behind a column but miscalculation and fixation causes his shoulder to come up solid against it instead. "f*cking hell..." he mutters, his back to the pillar in hopes the other truly hadn't noticed them. he rubs the spot gingerly to remove the deep ache stone had manifested there but close footsteps make their stomach flutter.

[succiducus]

Amber eyes scan the room over the top of Cailean's head; he focuses on the emperor of China, flits his gaze to the princess of Scotland, and finally his own court — France, where the monarches and their government alike were far more focused on the lesson at hand than who was dancing with who. In a more youthful part of their mind, Abdullah doesn't believe there is anything to fear nor any danger lurking in the shadows of this room but he's no longer young and wild, yelling their name as loudly as he could through fits of breathless laughter; he knows better. Beneath his palm now, although the same heart that raced as they ran through trees and mulberry bushes as children, wasn't a heart that beat for him any longer but a heart that grew warm for The Rebellion. Like an out-of-body experience, the advisor can no longer feel their warm hands tangled in his shirt though he knows they're there, doesn't recognize their face though they are so close now that he could see every sun-kissed freckle that speckled their nose, darkening with help from the Spanish sun, and despite hoping for them to agree, Cailean doesn't. "—Okay." Abdullah breathes out less of an agreement to their statement but an understanding of their boundaries instead. While he'd known which Cailean would choose if given the choice, hearing his rejection in the tone of his voice, like he'd expected, makes a tremor start in his hands and causes a lump to form in his throat. The back of his tongue stings, his eyes blink quickly but when he speaks again, there is no hint of disappointment nor upset in his tone. "However, you, more than anyone know that it may never be safe again, Cailean. I suppose that is simply a truth we will never be able to out run, though we have tried..." Slowly fading out, the end of their time together was imminent as the instructor asks them to swap partners. He thinks about pressing a kiss to their cheek as a farewell, a quirk of early mornings when Abdullah was running late and Cailean, still bleary-eyed, stood above a cook pot — he doesn't. It was cruel, he thought, to have once been accepted so openly in public only to now, even quietly, be rejected in the same fashion. Perhaps, unlike the once commander had promised him, they really were simply, to one another, just boring, unimportant people meant to keep each others beds warm when one of them was bored. Abby knew he should be angry with them, should corner them and scream until his stomach had settled and his mind was clear but he couldn't; for even catching glimpse of the tremble of Cailean's lip would have his walls crumbling and his arms around them in apology far faster than either could draw a sword. They no longer had such luxuries in the world they lived. Still, Abdullah cared too much about them, especially now. "If you change your mind then, you know where to find me." The advisor whispers, tapping the flag on his collar. "My offer stands, now or whenever you need it." "Take care of yourself, alright?"

'Cailean tangled their fingers in the delicate fabric of Abdullah's shirt. They were glad to have this thin barrier between them; without it, they might have lost all their senses. Their rhythm slowed until they were left gently swaying as one. Still, Cailean clung to him as if he was the one thing that could anchor them down, and without him, they would be adrift. The vultures of the court no longer mattered. The only thing that did was Abby and how their heart raced beneath his palm. Could he feel their heart beating? Did he know it was beating for him? 

They knew they should hate him. Their anger for him should engulf them until nothing but their hate for him was left. They should despise him for leaving them to pick up the pieces of their heart, but how could they hate him? It was their fault Abby left at all. 

I was teasin’ lamb… 

Like a lamb being let out for the first time, Cailean had run wild in their youth. Their curls were always a bit too long and unruly, dark as ember, appearing like a spark of fire as they ran down their road with Abdullah right behind them, the sun turning their hair into halo. Even back then, Cailean could feel Abby's eyes on them, dark and warm and all-knowing, as if he had seen the darkest corners of their mind, yet he did not shy away. Why couldn't that be enough for Cailean? Why had they desperately craved the adoration of people who did not know them when they had Abby's all along?

It was too late. They could drop to their knees and beg until they turned blue in the face for a chance to walk away with Abby, but it was too late. They had chosen the rebellion, accepted their call, and now were forced to rise and fall with it. 

Nevertheless, they were still only human, and Abby was all they wanted. He overwhelmed their senses with his touch, rough, soothing voice, only theirs to hear, and the scent they still longed for after all this time. They tried to force their feet to obey and step away from him to help them gather their senses, but it seemed they had gone rogue along with their heart. 

'We shouldn't…' There was no venom in their voice; instead, it spoke of their desperate longing, and if he listened carefully, he could hear the silent pleading: Please, don't be near me. I will only hurt you again. But Cailean had always been selfish and oh so greedy. They could never get enough of Abby. They would always hunger for more. 

'It's not safe,' with the last bit of strength they could muster, they let go of his shirt, only to brush their fingers down his arm, nearly taking his hand. Don't be greedy… 

[succiducus]

( during the leak & sometime after / @tormxntum )

a familiar name in accusation by the french echoes in the hallway. the commander feels a tremble start in his chest, it's quick travels lead it to his hands and knees, which weaken under the pressure of grief even though for the time being it seemed they had no solid proof of it. still, abdullah watches the heavy shoulders and bright curls of the holder of that name from the back of the hall with a certain mixture of fondness and helplessness. an accusation of treason against the scottish king was, in fact, no laughing matter - and if cailean was truly working with the rebellion, there was nothing that he could do to stop that inevitability. his eyes widen, except for one thing. "balfour, write my mother on my behalf, tell her that...i apologize for what i intend to do if proof comes to light." he whispers to his left. "finnian, set me a private meeting with the princess and then find my sisters. ensure that if this blows back on them, that you get them to safety." he instructs his right, pushing forward into the crowd. like a snake, he sheds his armour in the middle of the crowd like skin, hiding it out of sight, untucking his shirt from uniform pants, shaking hair free of its neat position with fingers so that natural curls start to foil in the absence of structure; he couldn't be commander hasan where they would go, not if he wished to keep his promise of keeping their heart safe in his hands. slipping a hand into cailean's, with one finger over his lips as a suggestion not to ask questions until they were out of ear shot, he motions silently for them to follow his lead.

[succiducus]

a musical journey through time...

ocean eyes - billie eilish

battlefield - svrcina

elastic heart - sia

victory - two steps from hell

fort william rescue - bear mcreary

when we were young - adele

carry you - ruelle ft fleurie

[succiducus]

"of course, i would!" he snaps through tears, his raised tones only speaking to the fondness he held close to his chest instead of malice. "i would do anything you ask of me! every moment since my fifth year all that i have wished for has been you! on the moors, in the forests, every day that you and i chased each other through them, i wished to catch up, do you understand? that desire made me wish to pick up a sword when never had i wished to do so before. it led me through the ranks of our own army, made me witness you hurting every day after the selfishness of the stuarts took a man that i hated with everything in my being away from you, and yet i still cried for you! for him! why? because i love you! constantly coming between you and death? that day in the winter? when the french invaded lal qila? when they had you screaming in pain during the reckoning and i took the abuse instead? i took it because i love you! that is what we do when we love someone, cailean! we protective them physically with everything we have! every soldier under your command, every ally that you have charmed, they do not look to you because you are selfish or unfeeling or not worth it, they look to you because you are! as do i. if i did not think you worthy of my life, i would not be here at your side! i would not be fighting as hard as i am to get you to understand that i don't need protection from your love, i need it!" the pad of thumb chases away falling tears, using cailean's hand on his wrist as leverage to tug them close. "you're not cursed, lamb. you're brilliant, your heart is good even if, like me, it may be a little crooked. that is the nature of being born to such a land to families such as ours, is it not?" tickling fingertips through the tight curls at the back of their neck, a soft smile ticks the corners of his mouth upward. "do you really want all of that? to kiss me in front of our families?" he teases, the reality of admissions finally comprehending in his gut. his smile widens; a playfulness overcomes him; and instead of a thumb, this time he presses gentle kisses to where stains of emotion were still noticeable on their cheeks. "imagine the look on 'delia's face."

Why couldn’t Abdullah understand why they guarded their heart? Did he not know that each time they got too close, they saw the fate that awaited him flash before their eyes? The damp prison cell they visited once years ago, and now repeatedly lived in each night they fell asleep. And the gallows… The damn gallows on the cold, lonely hill in the moors with wide-eyed, and cruel-hearted spectators cheering. Could he not understand that Cailean was sparing him the fate that awaited them if they failed? The fate they accepted all those years ago and willingly walked towards with each decision they made. They had gladly accepted their fate when they had no one, loved no one, but now, now their fate hovered over them like a dark, faceless beast, waiting for the right moment to strike not only them but also Abby.

“Ye cannae possibly think this is easy for me?” Their eyes burned, brimming with unshed tears. “Do ye think I’m so unfeeling, so unkind? Can ye not see how my heart is shatterin’?” Cailean had to turn away from Abdullah; they could not look into his eyes when they broke his heart. “I may not have loved ye the way ye wanted when we were bairns, but that doesnae make my feelings for ye any less intense. I love ye, and there will never be a day while this world still stands that my heart will not belong to ye.” It felt as if the words had been punched out of them.

They could not breathe, their lips trembled after the admission. They loved him, they would always love him. “I want ye, I want a life with ye. I want to kiss ye at the altar, I want us to laugh together at the chaos durin’ our family dinners; I want us to be happy and grow old together, but—but that happiness is not meant for me. I’m cursed, my heart is poison to the touch, and I cannae, I willnae watch ye die for me. I’m not worth it. Abby—” Their voice broke when uttering his name. Please, they pleaded in silence, please show me mercy, leave and live a long, happy life without me. “Abby…” They repeated as they watched the tears roll down his cheeks, their voice as sweet as honey. They could handle torture with ease, but they could not watch him cry without breaking.

They could no longer keep their tears from falling. At first, it was one, then another rolling down their cheeks, one always taking the place of the tears Cailean wiped away with the back of their hand. He was leaving. He was going to leave. A sick, selfish part of their mind had believed he would refuse to leave, but this is what they wanted. Right? “Please don’t,” they took him by the hand to stop him from leaving. “I want to be selfish, I want to beg ye to stay… Would ye? Would ye stay if I asked, despite everythin' I told ye?”

[succiducus]

the sting in his chest turns to empathy. fear dripped and dropped from spoken words like the rain had fallen that evening as they'd curled up under the covers together. they grew up sharing beds, parents, plates, and time. their intimate knowledge of one another was as astounding as their ignorance in the same respect. abdullah realizes in that moment that he was holding onto his knowledge of the boy who would chase him down gravel paths, not the soul who had experienced life since then. and so, he listens, his head leaning into the gentle touch of hand and the warmth that accompanied it allowing their words to sink deep and comprehend in his system. as clarity pulls fog from his mind, the commander guides cailean into him, wrapping his arms securely around their upper back and shoulders for a hug that seems to release all the tension that had been growing inside of him since scotland's arrival in lal qila. the world around them dims, he rests his chin atop fiery curls and thumbs over the intricate maze of their ear in a soothing manner while his mind turns in circles. "there is nothing wrong with you, cailean." abby coos against their hair. his eyes fluttered closed in the comfort of the sweet smell of shampoo and the silky strands of hair that tickle his cheek. "fear is as human as breathing, to be scared of something does not equal crookedness in your courage nor your spirit. it only means that you have seen the worst parts of the world and lived through them..." hands trace the line of cailean's spine; teeth find lip; he places a kiss at crown, unable to fully pull himself away from them. "your heart is safe with me, lamb. let us worry of tomorrow when the sun rises again. for now," he grins, smothering the side of cailean's face with gentle kisses in hopes to receive laughter in return. "consider yourself kidnapped for the remainder of the afternoon. without bargain."

Abby’s words struck Cailean like a slap against their cold cheek, not because they had been lies told to hurt them, but because nearly everything he said was true. Cailean had been careless with their words and actions. Recklessly ignoring the walls they had built around their heart they allowed themself to feel and do things they had strictly forbidden themself to ever experience again. When they lost him, they swore they would never give anyone their heart again, for their heart must be a damn cursed and a rotten thing if the people who dared to touch it ended up in the ground. They had kept the promise for years, but then Abby had to come crashing into their life again and change everything. Cailean hadn’t meant to be selfish, but when they got the first taste of his affection, they had been hooked, and now they had dragged Abby down into this whirlwind they had gotten themself caught in. 

How could Cailean ever make him understand why they still believed they couldn't be in their right mind for allowing themself to be with him? Why else would they willingly feel this way for Abby if they knew what happened to those they loved? Cailean cupped Abdullah's cheek in the palm of their hand, tenderly caressing the corner of his lip. A desperate need for him to understand urged them on, even when their words threatened to fail them. "Abby… You're right. My words were careless and cruel, but that's not what I meant." They paused, feeling the weight of their admission pressing against their chest, threatening to suffocate them. "I feel like I can't be in my right mind when I'm with you. Not because it's unfathomable to be with you, and not because my heart belongs to someone else-" It hit them only then. Their heart didn't belong to the ghost of a man who was long gone. It hadn't belonged to him for a long time.

“It’s because I should know better than to be with you. I will only end up losing you, whether it’s going to be right at this moment, tomorrow, or in ten years. I will lose you, and I don’t think my heart can bear it. So yes, there must be something wrong with me to willingly walk into this heartbreak once again.” They should step away from him and give him the chance to walk away, but they could tear themself away from him; they were selfish, after all. “But I need you to know, while I may be cruel and selfish, I would never think of you as merely something to entertain myself with when bored.” 

[ccnsenescere]

abdullah loses all sense of their surroundings, simply focusing on the warmth of cailean's breath and their close proximity to one another. beautiful in candlelight; illuminated by the morning sun; vibrant when no eyes were on them, in every moment, cailean rendered him speechless. the ex-commander hums, snaking arms around the other's waist to pull them closer - he feels his entire system flood with a sense of relief, safety, and most importantly, love, as their embrace continues. cailean's rough shove sends an anticipatory shiver down his spine but their voice in command on the air confuses him. his open eyes flit from cailean toward the slightly cracked door where he could see the curl of fingers on the frame of it. abdullah's sigh is long, exasperated, hinting at the frustration that was now built in his stomach. "i'll kill him." he says through gritted teeth, unserious in his threats yet partially the opposite and the look in brown hues wild and chaotic. however, cailean's worry issues a roll of eyes and a move to close the distance between them again, this time, the heat of their moment gone and replaced with underlying care.

his hand finds jaw. "we're on the same page about this," abdullah assures as context for his next sentiment. "but fraser's an old drunk, everybody in the highlands knows it. we've been close since we were young, lamb, i hate to break it to your ego, however," his voice lowers, mouth finding just below cailean's earlobe again. "half of 'em already know and say nothing, the other half, well, they can't tell a sheep's head from its -" with a look over his shoulder at the door, he presses a kiss to the commander's cheek. "we're safe, cailean. i'm safe." abdullah stresses, tugging them close. "though perhaps desire should be saved for our private quarters."

They needed to think straight. Ever since Kaiden, the damn fool, was arrested, Cailean had been walking on a tightrope, waiting for the moment eyes of suspicion would turn to them. One wrong move, and they would be thrust into the whirlwind of accusations of being involved in the Reckoning, and what would that mean for Abby? Would he be dragged into it as well? If they knew what Cailean had to witness during the Reckoning, they would never accuse them of having anything to do with it. After that night, they swore they would never do anything which might hurt Abdullah; yet here they were once again. They needed to think straight, but their mind was clouded, swimming with the undeniable need to have Abdullah even closer to them.

Their fingers curled around the soft fabric of his shirt, using it to pull him closer until his chest was against theirs. Their breath hitched in their throat when their lips brushed against Abby’s. “Desire…” Their voice trailed off, their mind on nothing but Abby’s lips, his touch, his breath brushing against their skin. They would never be able to think straight while he’s near them. All too suddenly, they were thrust back into reality when the door creaked open. Their heart broke as they instinctively pushed Abby away. They didn’t want to hide him. They wanted to tell every single soul in the damn world that they had been lucky enough to find the person who made them feel alive, but they couldn’t. Not after what happened during the Reckoning. Cailean cleared their throat when a young soldier peeked through the door, face pale. For a moment, they worried he had seen them, but they quickly realized he was merely a young soldier terrified of interrupting their private meeting. “Give us a moment, please.” While Malcolm would have hastily scolded the poor lad for interrupting them, Cailean’s voice was gentle, as if they were speaking to a friend.

They held their breath until the door closed, and only then could they breathe again. “That was far too close.” They stood still as if their feet were planted to the ground, yet every atom in their body begged them to go to Abby, to hold him, to kiss him while they still had time. “One day we’re not goin’ to be this lucky. What if that Fraser fool had caught us? He wouldnae hesitate to use it against us.”

[succiducus]

An oddity it was for Cailean to feel the buzz of a hive just under their skin while Abdullah merely felt the sting. Though he'd never given them the chance to choose him or the rebellion, from the first of a million 'I love you's' he'd known nothing good would come of it despite his consistent, unwavering hope. Wrongly, at least for a little while, he'd assumed that he could persuade them to walk away if he loved them hard enough; in the end, the advisor had chosen self-inflicted pain over watching them march to their death without an ounce of power in his hands to protect them this time. Did they know how difficult sleep had been without them? How the scent of rain from an open window in the spring and chimney smoke consoled him even in the French palace? Could they see it in his eyes? The hunger for the same warmth that being so close to them twisted in his stomach? And if none of that, could they feel how difficult it was to cage it? Abdullah hadn't meant for his leaving to upset them, he only believed that giving them that ultimatum — him or the rebellion — would have hurt them more. Dark eyes scan the hardened, furrowed lines of their face where once only happiness and laughter had lingered, and Abdullah no longer feels armed against them. From what he'd heard of Scotland, it now resembled purgatory more so than heaven, he hardly believed that Cailean, even in his opposition, didn't grieve for it as they all did. It was the worst thing about rebellions; from an outsider looking in, everything looked under control but somewhere, lurking in a dark corner, there was something uncontrolled — whether a person or an idea — and it was only a matter of time before it leapt forth and dismantled every bit of organization once held. In other words, one could not truly predict the outcome of one, not really. He expected that the rebellion Cailean experienced was truly far from what they'd set out for it to be; a simple dismantling of their monarchs, a push for change, well-intentioned pressure. Not murder. Not their country in flames and innocent lives deemed guilty. At least, that hadn't been the rebellion they'd lived their entire lives for; they were rebelling against the monarchy, not the people of their country. Cailean's words, spoken low, take more out of him than he wished. Abdullah lets his grip on the leader's hand fall to their chest instead, palm flat against their heart; his face, un-guarded. "I was teasin', lamb..." He coos, quietly, curling his fingers around the buttons of Cailean's shirt as his heart droops into his knees.

In the silence between the reiteration of his question and Cailean's answer, he looks at them, really looks, soaking in the curvature of their nose, the round nature of their ears, and the thin line of their mouth, deep in thought. Abdullah's hand falls away, a thick, hurt swallow moves his throat. "You got everything you fought for..." But not him, not their relationship; not freedom. "— then I'm glad..." He whispers. Abdullah wants to admit next that he doesn't understand anymore, that he would rather die than watch them and Scotland burn under his command but he does understand. He'd been in the same rooms as them, heard the same nonsense uttered over and over again, and he had believed it too for a time; the fire of rebellion was rarely quelled once lit, he was merely an outlier. He suspected, in this moment, that Cailean needed a hug more than a lecture and so he leans in close again. "Meet me later, in my quarters, there we can talk freely...or perhaps, sit quietly, if you wish that instead."

Abdullah’s warm breath against their ear, calloused hand in theirs, and the rough touch of his stubble were enough to leave their body buzzing, like a hive of bees deep within their soul. They felt like the seams containing their heart were straining, pulling them closer to him, greedy for any scrap of warmth Abby could give.

Did he know they were entirely at his mercy? 

For a fleeting moment, the world and its horrors of the past loosened their crushing grip on Cailean's heart, and they were just themselves again. They were not a rebel, not a traitor, just a person swaying in rhythm with the man who once made the world seem a better place. If they closed their eyes, they could almost imagine the rain pounding on their kitchen window and the warmth of the fire reddening their cheeks as they held each other to escape the crushing expectations of their world.

They hadn’t felt this since he left. They sparked back to life at his touch, like kindling catching fire, but it couldn’t last. Even the smallest kindling could grow into a forest fire, burning everything in its wake, including them. They let Abby lead; their bodies gliding across the dancefloor like nothing had happened, as though his words had not left his soul reeling.

‘Is that what you think of me?’ Their voice was low, trembling slightly. Let the others stare, but this was theirs. ‘Do you think I’m heartless, able to forget you the moment you are gone?’ They were cold, but they knew they were not heartless. How could they be heartless when every thought of their love made their heart bleed?

Everything they did was in preparation for their arrest. Though they longed for the world to know how they loved Abdullah, how their life had lost its flavour without him, their love could never escape the confinement of the tiny home they had built. If the Stuarts knew how he consumed their heart they would have saved him a spot on the gallows beside them, these bastards took everything precious from the world.

Perhaps in their dying breath, they would confess their love for him. 

‘Is it everything I expected?’ To scorch the Stuarts, they had lit a flame beneath Scotland. They watched the land they loved and swore to protect burn, and everything they held dear with it. 

‘Aye, I got everything I fought for, but the rebellion did take more than it gave back. Still, you must understand why I had to do this?’ 

[succiducus]

A million 'I love you's' in the hushed tones of their voice had soothed a weary, hopeless, misshapen heart into softness. Too many times he had trudged through their front door, his boots tracking mud through the cabin, and declared that his life was over only for Cailean to break his spirits with a laugh. Somehow, even in his irritation, he'd find himself laughing too, eventually forgetting what his father said that had angered him that day altogether. Like finding shelter in heavy rains, Cailean, from the time they were small, became a reprieve from a storm neither of them should've been caught in. Scotland was a mess, it always had been, it was ignorant of them both to believe they could do much to change it. Yet, without his stubborn, passionate determination, Cailean wouldn't be Cailean; in turn, they wouldn't be the person that, even now, took his breath from him like a strong punch in the gut. This moment stirred a thought, one that he'd kept secret, a mere desire burning holes in his stomach in hopes to find fulfillment one day when they were both ready. Marry me. He'd hoped to whisper one evening, just as they'd crawled into bed, their stomachs full and the sweet sound of a cat's purr echoing from somewhere among the pillows. Marry me. He thought in the same pub, the first time that an 'I love you' was preceded by the right action. That night, being open to the world, not caring if a Stuart loyalist watched or what the consequences might be if Cailean was outed as a rebel, the child who had always been chasing them finally caught up. Abdullah understood their reasons, had promised that it didn't matter if their love was only ever known between them but he'd be lying if he said that it hadn't led him into a false sense of security. They hadn't chosen him in the end and once again, he'd fallen behind. It's the brutality of their tone, clear with pout and pettiness, that has him grinning fondly as they move together. "You might've forgotten my name and face by now, lammy, but none of our countrymen have - they know we're acquainted."

As if reading their mind, Abdullah leans closer on purpose. "Aye," It doesn't roll off his tongue as easily as it used to but spoken so close to Cailean's ear, it makes him grin mischievously regardless. "Tell me, was overthrowing the Stuart's everything you thought it would be?"

I love you, I love you, I love you. How often had Cailean told Abby they loved him? Had they said it enough? Could they ever say enough? Feet turned to lead, Cailean reached for him, hesitating merely a moment before taking his hand. The first time they said it was the morning they had woken up together after being reunited. In the gentle morning light, Cailean watched him rise from their bed, and they saw the boy they had loved and abandoned all those years ago showered by the rays of the rising sun. They crawled through the tangle of sheets to get to him; they would have crawled through the fires of hell for him and laced their arms around his waist, nuzzling between his shoulder blades. Mouthing the word ‘I love you,’ but no sound came out. 

‘Just smile and pretend not to know me.’ Each step was heavier than the next. The walk to the gallows would have been kinder to their heart. ‘They are watching us,’ like vultures, heads turned in their direction. Watching and waiting. ‘Don’t worry; soon enough, you’ll be able to leave again.’ Their fingers hovered for a second before settling lightly on his waist. Would he even want their touch? 

Damn him. Why did he make them care for him? If they had not cared, their heart would not be breaking in front of people waiting to see them fall. Why did they have to love him? Cailean had asked that question every day since waking up to find Abby’s side of the bed empty and cold. Nothing left of him but the ring on his nightstand. If it weren’t for that damn thing, Cailean would have begun to wonder if they had dreamt the time they had together. After all, it had been too good to be true. But no, he had left his ring, the same ring that was now pressed against their chest. 

This was a dance they had never done before, yet once the music began playing, their soul seemed to know what they were doing, almost like the night when they had been brave enough to finally say it to him. In a pub, with music too loud, in a town where they had the luxury of being unknown, they had taken Abby’s hand and pulled him to dance. Spinning him in circles until they fell into his arms, laughing. I love you, they had whispered in his ear. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

‘Tell me, was France worth it?’

[succiducus]

life turns to statue. the content of dreams, waking and asleep, drip from cailean's tongue out in the air between them but the happy jitters that he'd expected it to bring him is not what he feels upon its comprehension. like a sword pressed to his diaphragm, their words create a piercing sting and down his stomach, a haunting warmth pools just above his navel; his heart panics in worry of liquid life's escape, unknowing that no skin had truly been pierced. "you love me and still you wish for my l-leave?" abdullah stutters as if dazed. his stumble backward is subtle, looking more deliberate than autonomic but he, for some reason, for the first time in a very long time, cannot meet the commander's eyes.

he'd expected this moment to come with their backs pressed to lines drawn in fields of wheat; a happy monologue would lead them to admissions of love and longing; an embrace would solidify their agreement to move forward into love - but this? his feet cold, his heart hurting, the impossible ask for him to move on without so much as a stutter from cailean? expectation had never made room for rejection of such a confusing caliber. how could one love yet not wish to pursue it? - out of protection? for his sake? - what did it mean? as if his life was not equally as messy nor his love nearly as dangerous. "you'd rather condemn us to this dance? perpetually revolving around each other? never meeting in the middle? always longing for one another? i would rather die than to feel this pain..." comes an admission abdullah had never wished to admit. "to live a long life never knowing the warmth of your heart? now? after learning that the person my heart has yearned for since my eleventh year reciprocates such a yearning? somehow, i cannot think of a worse fate. death pales in comparison." he swallows; he can feel it already, the way tears form and fall, slithering along his cheek and curling around his jaw. "however," there is a hiccup somewhere in his chest, his eyes finally meet cailean's "if your desire is for me to leave, what choice do i have to do its opposite? i refuse to disrespect your wishes regardless of how it hurts to know it is what the person i love desires the most of me." stepping forward into their space, in a moment of final confidence, abdullah noses their cheek, soaks in the warmth of the skin, and tries to memorize the words in the tones of their voice that would've made his heart flutter at a different time. "i love you, lammy. always have... i suppose...i wish that was enough..."

Here it was, the moment they had been dreading. Cailean could see it in his eyes, the pain they had inflicted upon him. Abdullah didn't deserve this; he deserved someone who could give him the world, someone who wouldn't shy away when they got too close. They had a whole speech planned, crafted one night as they lay in his arms, the overwhelming safety of his presence reminding them of the undeniable fact that they didn't deserve this, didn't deserve him. You think you love me, but you don't. Please don't love me. You're meant to love and marry someone who keeps you safe, someone who can make you happy. Not me. Anyone but me. Yet they choked on their words, standing in the middle of the room filled with memorabilia of their shared life, watching Abdullah pick up his clothes.

He's leaving; he's leaving you.

Am I that difficult to love? For a moment, Cailean stood still, a sharp inhale of their breath the only evidence of how Abdullah's words pierced through their heart. "Difficult to love? That couldnae be further from the truth." A desperate sound, something between a laugh and a sob, escaped their lips. Their body seemed to pull them closer to Abdullah, yet they resisted. They refused to get too close, knowing once they felt the warmth of his body and his touch, all of their resolutions would crumble. They would not be able to deny the love that burst within them.

"It is too easy to love ye. Every single thought of mine is filled with ye; ye're hauntin' me." Their chest rose and fell with each breath. Why couldn't he understand how terrible this was? "I never meant to love ye, not because ye're not easy to love; I wanted to spare ye." The moment the admission left their lips, it was as if they had dropped the weight they had been carrying on their shoulders for all this time. When they realized they had gotten too close to him, they had decided to spare him the truth, to break it off to make it easier for Abby —or perhaps themself— but now they knew it was too late. They needed to tell him the whole truth.

"I didnae want to love ye, I couldnae," they whispered. "And I wanted to spare ye from lovin' me. It would only end with ye gettin' caught in this mess of a life I've created, and I am terrified of it, Abdullah. I cannae bear to be the reason for your death, all because I was too selfish to walk away from ye, too selfish not to love you because, damn it, I do love you." Their heart hammered within their chest as they carved the image of him in their mind, in case it was the last moment they had with him. "So please, I'm beggin' ye, go. Find someone else who will make sure ye are safe and happy."

[succiducus]

invasions; injuries; foreign occupancy; worry; protect the empire; dethrone the stuarts; play the role of commander to india and ex-soldier to scotland; remember which role to play in front of every person - abdullah was exhausted. it's the reason that, although he could've allowed the frustrated tension between them to boil his blood and his tone, he simply stands, tugs his shirt haphazardly back over his shoulders and closes the distance between him and cailean once more. "you read my mind, see through my illusions, make proclamations of difference while laying beside me, kiss me as if it gives you breath yet your words remain ignorantly careless." his tone, while not quite gentle doesn't seep aggression or blame merely frustration. his turn to face away from them, he turns back around after an inhale calms the anxious energy wreaking havoc in his chest. "three years ago, when i left you alone in that cabin, i did so for my clan. it's always been about them, cailean. whatever they want of me, i do regardless of what it means for me. however, had it been up to me, i would've stayed. and while we sit here, tangled in situations that i was under the impression only lovers found themselves in, you insinuate that that you couldn't possibly be in your right mind to be here, in this moment, with me, no less..." abdullah's saliva feels like cement, fingers play with the fabric of the commander's shirt in the middle of their chest. a soft gesture for a moment brimming with irritation and miscommunication. "i understand that your heart belongs to him - i've watched your gaze on him more times than i can count, on him, and on others, but mine has always remained on you." brown meet blue. "do you understand?" abdullah breathes, nudging cailean's cheek with his nose. "i don't want to be one of those boring, unimportant people; i'm not here to keep your bed warm when you’re bored."

A barely audible moan escaped Cailean's lips as Abby deepened the kiss. With anyone else, they might have felt embarrassed by their desperate longing, but with Abby, everything was different. They didn't care if he knew how desperate they were to feel his lips against theirs and his touch on their skin. However, the moment of bliss was interrupted when they were reluctantly pulled away from his lips. The world seemed to spin around them. It was only when Abby rested his forehead against theirs that they were grounded at last. A small, lingering smile played along their lips. It felt surreal to them to have Abby there with them, wanting them, but then it all came crashing down.

As Abdulla leaned back in the chair, Cailean could sense a change in his demeanour. It was subtle, yet to them, it was glaringly obvious. Something was different; something was wrong. They may have only recently noticed the fire within his dark eyes when he looked at them, but now that light was gone, replaced by a coldness that sent a shiver down their spine. Despite his teasing words, his voice lacked its usual warmth. It was the voice of Commander Hasan, not the Abdullah, who had stayed awake with them, whispering and laughing until neither of them had the strength to fight off sleep. Cailean pulled back, their eyes desperately searching for any traces of the vulnerability and the softness on his features, but they found none. What had they done wrong?

A pit began to form deep within their stomach, and their eyes stung as they tried to figure out what they might have said or done wrong. Had Abby not wanted the kiss? With a quick movement, they rose from his lap, creating a semblance of distance between them, though their heart remained binded to his. They turned their back to him, fidgeting with their clothes and attempting to fix their hair to no avail, as if that would be enough to wipe away the embarrassment they felt. They had every intention of leaving the room to let Abdullah get back to work, but in a moment of bravery, they turned to him. “I’m not one of those people you manage to fool with a smile and a wink,” Cailean told them, hoping their voice did not tremble. They never used to be this brave with Malcolm. Back then, they let the hurt feelings and frustrations between them fester until it ended in an explosive argument, but they refused to let that happen with Abby. They both deserved better.

“I can see right through this act. If I did something wrong, if this isn’t what you want, then tell me. Please tell me what’s going on.”

[succiducus]

a shiver travels the length of his spine. physicality calms his mind; eye contact settles his stomach; proximity renders heart and soul helpless. there had been moments, when the memoriam was merely a thought among the court, that he wished for a moment like this to happen between them in the off-chance that they were to accompany the stuarts to his knew empire. he only hoped that the party holding all three of the people precious to him would make it safely. showing their affections for one another so openly resonated with a part of him that had always wished for it and to have cailean seemingly wish the same? it felt like a dream.

it's why it comes as a shock, the older commander's words. they strike him in the way that he assumed a tree felt when it's fibres split and caught fire under the sharp sting of lightning. abdullah recognizes his mistake at that moment - it hadn't been pulling them into his lap or allowing them to show him tenderness; it was convincing himself that cailean could truly read his mind when the truth was that they couldn't. for the first time, feeling vulnerable with them didn't feel safe. however, a clenched jaw goes lax under the soothe of thumb, relieving the sudden pain of tense shoulders and grinding teeth. butterflies dance in his stomach despite the lingering angst; his own hand finds cailean's jaw while the other hooks around their waist, deepening the kiss against his better judgement. he doesn't let it linger for too long, even with the reluctance he faces, making the rest of foreheads seem calculated and intimate even though his wish for breath wasn't physiological. his dramatic groan is manufactured but convincing. "if only i did not have to report the condition of the scottish commander to my royals..." he teases, finally sitting back in the chair they were tangled in. "i would stay here, like this, all afternoon if not for that."

When hearing his sharp inhale, Cailean quickly withdrew their hand away from his wound, cradling it against their chest, the rag slipping from their fingers to the floor by their knees. Has Cailean always been this anxious about potentially inflicting harm while tending to the injured? Their eyes, wide and round, look up to Abby, silently pleading for forgiveness, but instead of being faced with annoyance they are met with a teasing smile and mischievous glint in his eyes. Their lips parted in an inaudible gasp. The jerk. 

A long line of curses gets stuck on their lips when his fingers graze the corner of their mouth, and any annoyance fades away as quickly as it had appeared. Cailean leans into his touch, craving more. Would a simple touch ever be enough for them now that they know the taste of his lips? Everything within them begged them to take Abby´s hand in theirs, to let him feel the soft touch of their lips against the rough skin of his knuckles. But they couldn’t bring themself to do it. Something held them back; an invisible rein wrapped around them, pulled them back down to earth, keeping them away from truly letting themself do what they wished with Abby.

Their knees protested with cracks and creaks, much like the hinges of an ancient door, as they accepted Abby’s hand and rose. Initially, they had every intention to step away from him, allowing him to dress, but everything changed when Abdullah gently pulled them closer, settling them onto his lap. They should know better than to accept the offer. Cailean knew they should stay away from him; they would never recover if they were to sit on his lap, but how could they resist? Before their brain managed to protest, their heart took the lead, allowing them to sit down. It only took them a moment to get comfortable, their thighs against his sides, their chest against his, but they were careful not to touch his wound; they would never want to hurt him. Cailean’s fingertips raked up his back, weaving through his hair. They tangled their fingers in his locks, holding him still as their eyes got lost in theirs.

"My mind can't possibly be faring well. Why else would we be doing this?" They must be losing their mind. They should know better than to allow themselves to feel this way for anyone, let alone Abby. The last time they allowed themself to feel something with another person, it was ripped away from them. Could they do that to themself again? To Abby? They let their forehead rest against his, one hand tangled in his hair, the other tenderly caressing his cheek with their thumb. With their eyes closed, the rational part of their mind tried to stop them, warning them of the consequences if they were to kiss him. They would doom him, just as they had doomed Malcolm, but they had always been terribly selfish. When Cailean's lips finally meet his, it was hesitant, as if asking for permission, asking if it is the right thing to do, if it is what he wants. If they are what he wants. 

[succiducus]

if heaven were a place, he thought, it would be wrapped up in such a way with their arms around them. they were safety; comfort; even in times of war between them, they wished to run toward them for strategy on how to end it for the sake of their hearts. abdullah leans into their touch; his eyes remain closed; hands snake around their waist to pull them closer; slip up and over cailean's spine. a shiver breaks under their feathery touch and his eyes open to catch sight of how the sun struck them. the clearing of his throat from emotion seems to startle them apart yet his gaze remains on the commander. the metallic taste of blood shrivels his tongue from the force of clamped teeth on the inside of his cheek; a tear forms at waterline; dark orbs rake over their face and down their stubbled jaw; over the bridge of their freckled nose; down the extension of neck and shoulders; and then it meets such a blue shining with something that he hadn't seen in their gaze before that abdullah feels almost as if he's been punched in the gut; they loved him too. "it is the nature of loving our home, i suppose - to always be caught in the stuarts drama." his tease turns serious then, raking his knuckles over the perch of their cheekbone. "but if there remains no drama between you and i, it does not matter what their daily drama is - we can conquer it together." the shatter of his heart sounds with the rise of cailean from his embrace, a swallow moves his throat, anger and frustration build in his stomach and for a brief moment, he wishes to yell at them, to tug them back into bed and demand they be honest with him but he doesn't. instead, he takes a breath, sending a grin in their direction, clicking his tongue in feigned offense. "i'll have you know that many people would be very pleased to see me half-naked in the gardens - where did you toss your manners this morning?" abby muses.

in a quick-footed and silent manner, with cailean's back turned to him, he presses his stomach to spine. the devil himself smirks against cailean's jugular. "you look good, lamb." he speaks lowly, pressing a kiss to the same place he'd tucked his face moments prior.

Time seemed to stand still as their lips met. Could the whole world sense the change in the atmosphere each time Abdullah kissed them? Did the ground tremble as they did? Cailean was out of breath in an instant; was it merely the kiss, or was it the knowledge that each kiss could be the last? It wasn’t the first time they felt the soft touch of his lips against theirs, yet it never grew old. The sweet, lingering kiss sent a rush through Cailean’s entire body. Their heart pounded in their chest, a familiar yet exhilarating feeling that made them feel more alive than even staring down an enemy army did. If they could be frozen in this moment for eternity, they would gladly accept it.

The radiating glow of the morning sun bathed them both in its golden hues. Cailean’s auburn hair caught a stray sunbeam, gleaming like burnished copper as their hands found their way to Abdullah’s shoulders before sliding around to the back of his neck. Their touch was gentle, almost tentative, as they wrapped their arms around Abby’s neck, pulling him closer as he deepened their kiss. Perhaps they were selfish, savoring each second with him, even if they knew it could only make the heartbreak more bitter. How long could they keep this up? How long before the world would catch up with them and rip them apart?

Cailean’s fingers lightly caressed the nape of Abdullah’s neck when he all too quickly pulled away. “Aye, that sounds fair enough.” Their smile grew wider as they stole another quick kiss before they were forced to turn back to their usual ways, together yet apart. “I will even do it myself if it makes ye feel better.” At last, Cailean let go, their eyes lingering a second too long on the soft curve of his lips. “I cannae remember the last time we managed to escape the Stuarts and be alone during the daylight. We are always caught in their drama, aren’t we?”

As Cailean gazed upon Abdullah, their heart ached, so full of love and sorrow it threatened to overflow, spilling their secrets. It was at that moment the realization hit them like a tidal wave: they loved him. They loved him as deeply as they had ever loved anyone before. It was overwhelming and undeniable; they loved him. Every line of his face, his slightly crooked smile. They loved him. What the hell had they done? Suddenly, Cailean rose, walking past Abdullah. The mere sight of him caused their heart to constrict with pain. How could they ever let him go now? Clearing their throat, they braced themselves before turning to him, the smile back on their lips but not quite reaching their eyes. “If ye want to see the butterflies, ye better get dressed. I don’t think people will take too kindly to ye marchin’ around the garden half-naked, even if I dinnae have any protests if ye would never get dressed again.”