#hilmes/zandeh

[innerchorus]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hilmes/Xandes (Heroic Legend of Arslan) Characters: Hilmes (Heroic Legend of Arslan), Xandes (Heroic Legend of Arslan) Additional Tags: Canon - Manga, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs Summary:

After infiltrating Peshawar Fortress, Hilmes returns to the camp wet and cold. Zandeh warms him up.

[tired-reader-writer]

Arslan Senki Chapter 132

Received screencaps from @innerchorus , thank you for your service, and without further ado here we go!

Gieve knows. Gieve knows what Tahamenay has done. I don't know why but this is tickling my brain.

Screencap not featured but I believe there's a mistranslation on this page. Yeah that would make sense. Arslan's line, “There is to be more fighting between Parsians” I think should've been “There is to be no more fighting between Parsians” instead.

Wasn't expecting to see Tus wear such an expression but I guess this is the appropriate response for news like this.

Zaravant's reaction was funny, ngl.

Not much in terms of commentary, just interesting how rumors evolve— and makes sense considering how little information people had regarding the duel.

“queen consort” and “his majesty”. There's just something incredibly heartbreaking about how Arslan no longer calls them “mother” and “father”, though I suppose they haven't been much of parents to him in the first place. It's just. It makes it sink in, y'know? They're not his parents. Not even in name. Not anymore.

Walking through the courtyard where Arslan used to receive lessons from Vahriz, now dilapidated... I too can't believe it's been only a year in-universe since then, if even that. How long has it been for us? The manga started in 2013. It's 2024 now. Eleven years for us, even if I did join the fray somewhat late.

Sorry, I'm just getting emotional over here.

BUT THEN.

UNDEAD VAHRIZ.

OHHHHH I DO NOT LIKE THIS AT ALL. THE HEAD DOESN'T LOOK LIKE IT GOES WITH THE REST OF THE BODY, ESPECIALLY NOT IN THIS PANEL.

And this panel especially shows the damage on his head. HOW ABOUT I SCREAM, ARAKAWA.

Okay, another mistranslation in the chapter, this time a line from Kishward: “I saw your head displayed at the city gates.” Kishward was not in or near Ecbatana in that time frame, he did not and could not have seen Manuchurh's head. Probably this line was meant to say: “Your head was seen displayed at the city gates.”

In any case though the soldiers get all excited to see a marzban alive (it seems Manuchurh could've possibly been well-respected and beloved? which could mean numerous things for what I have in store for him for Wolfsong...)

Not pictured but y'all. The way Manuchurh is drawn, as well... Freaky as fuck. Looks so creepy and unnatural and I do not like it.

The way he's drawn here (and I've had this thought ever since I saw undead Shapur from the previous chapter) feels like they have no body (just heads + limbs protruding from formless smoke), the posture and stuff just feels really, really unnatural, I wonder what's going on beneath those shrouds. All the undead marzban were shown with bandaged limbs, does it perhaps mean something?

OH OKAY NO THEORY IMMEDIATELY DEBUNKED. Kharlan at least seems to have a solid body from what I can tell— which would mean the unnatural posture and movements a side effect of being puppeted by Team Zahhak rather than having no corporeal body.

...maybe they move uncaring that their own bodies and bones are being harmed, they're dead after all, what is there for them to care about anymore? That would explain the unnatural vibes.

BRUH I'm gonna have nightmares for days.

Zandeh even gets injured because he was too shocked to react in time— but thankfully our Durian Denka comes to the rescue! He held Kharlan off.

And he's rightfully pissed at Team Zahhak for this. High time you realized their evilness, boy. You shouldn't have been so harsh on Saam.

[daryun]

Merry belated holidays! I hope you're all well and that the new year greets you kindly.

Finally had time to sit down with some paper with a friend and we watched Matthew Bourne's Sleeping Beauty Ballet together (it's on YouTube, btw. Do recommend*)

Me: Leo wants to save Aurora from Carador. Count Lilac is helping Leo. But what if Count Lilac also likes Leo? This is so Zandeh-Hilmes-Irina...

Pose inspiration from 2022 performance photos by Johan Persson.

Bonus

[importantdestinydefendor]

Arslan Senki Chapter 129 thoughts

In the comments on this post of @tired-reader-writer I already somewhat voiced my general reaction. But I try to write some thoughts down her as well.

Hilmes reactions - my poor baby

The differences in Arslans and Hilmes mentallity and thoughts on their heritage! The back and forth! Wonderfully written!

how Hilmes sees fighting as his only out of his mental missery :(

Narsus, you naughty naughty man lol

but quick to act so nobody interferes!

Saams faces :( my poor poor sad soldier boy!

Make way for the Zots! And Gurazeh! I have never been happier to see you!

heh Narus tactics coming full circle! Suck on that Andycakes!

(but I do not look forward on how he will treat Kishward bc of that...)

ARSLAN MY BOY!!! I feel like a proud mother! (but also like a bad one bc I am playing favourits... sorry Hilmes...)

sad that we didn't get to see the fight between Daryun and Zandeh nor a solution and that the fight betweeen Hilmes and Arslan was really short... but it makes sense due to Hilmes mental state

I will make a seperate post about my AU thoughts for when I get there for writing! (bc I mayheps have found a way to switch from canon to fanon story!)

[marchdancer]

I know that we probably won't get this scene because it looks like the puppets created by the wizards can't talk.

However, one scene has been stuck in my head for the last two chapters. It almost seems as if we're going to get a fight between Shapur and Kubard and Isfan (my poor heart! I'm not sure how I'll cope with this. Daryun and his uncle as well as Zandeh and Hilmes and Kahrlan have already torn me apart inside).

But of course I would be even less able to cope if something were to happen to Kubard or Isfan (after all, they are still alive and I would find it even more terrible if they died at Shapur's hand). So of course I hope that this won't happen and since I hope that it will be Kubard who defeats this Shapur puppet, the following thought occurred to me. Some time ago I read, and I think it was on @innerchorus , that in the novella Isfan asks Kubard/Kishward what his brother was like as Marzban and Kubard replies that they always competed against each other and he won more often than Shapur (which Isfan doesn't really want to believe).

So how would it be if Kubard won this final fight between them and Shapur then (with a smile on his lips) said something like "that was our last competition, it almost seems like you're the better of the two of us" or "It's a shame, I thought I could at least get a draw between us. It almost seems like you've finally won our competition, Kubard" and to Isfan "I'm proud of you, little brother" Urgh... that would be a scene that would break my heart and at the same time I need exactly that kind of scene.

Not to mention the panel where Kubard will comfort Isfan with a bittersweet smile on his face, knowing that his rival will be now gone forever.

I don’t now if we will get such a scene but yeah….this is something that is spinning in my head for a few days now.

I am ver curious, excited and anxious for the next chapter. (Impossible that a Manga can cause all those mixed up feelings. It is like a rollercoaster.)

[darknebulablader]

a lil follow up doodle to the drawing i did last week 

i love them 

[askrukhnabad]

Rukhnabad can have a little pumpkin spice latte, as a treat

((@colleyuriko / @daryun kindly rendered mun’s crack!idea))

[thil4n]

Hi, I just received Arslan Senki's books, and there was this bonus at the back of book 9, it's so funny I wanted to share it with you 😂

Hilmes says : "Hey it's not nice ! Let go of it ! Aah no ! Don't let go of it !!"

Their faces so funny, look at Kubard 😂

Btw the french spelling of the names is a bit weird, for exemple it is Qbad, Zandé, Sahm, Ghîb, Kishwahd, Gisqar, Khallhan etc 🤔 I wonder how came out in the English books of it, I wasn't like this on the scans I read on the internet

I'll buy book 10 soon, as it is available now. It really is a pleasure to look at the drawings on the paper, it's bigger than on my phone. 😁

[ryukoishida]

Arslan Senki Holiday Exchange 2016: In which there’s Hilmes + domestic mafia AU.

Written for Arslan Senki Holiday Exchange 2016

Title: (All My Friends Are) Bad Kids Recipient: @zealabs Author: ryukoishida Character(s)/Pairing(s): Hilmes/Xandes; featuring Saam, Arslan & co. Rating: PG-13 Warning(s): Swearing, minor character deaths Summary: When Hilmes’ family is slaughtered by a mole sent by Andragoras, all that’s left is his loyal bodyguard Xandes and his most-trusted lieutenant Saam. He has no one else to turn to until his cousin Arslan – the young leader of the newest and fastest rising mafia group in the city – offers to take him in. [Mafia AU] A/N: The domestic mafia AU that literally nobody asks for… I’m so sorry I swear I tried… so hard… [sobs] I hope you like it anyway and have a happy new year!

-

He wakes up to the ghost of flames crackling too close, the heat a searing, lasting pain that burns and melts his skin, crawling deeper still as if the fire was alive and trickling through his bloodstreams and swallowing every thought, every hope as the screams of his dying parents echo in his head.

"Mr. Hilmes... Mr. Hilmes! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" A familiar voice – deep, gritty, and tinged with obvious panic – calls out, and he feels warm, calloused fingers catching his hand in a tight grasp that’s almost desperate.

“Should I call Farangis in to check him over?” A much calmer voice, light like the wisp of clouds under a bright blue sky on a summer’s day, asks.

“You stay out of this, brat!”

“Watch your tone, Xandes,” another unfamiliar voice adds, subtle irritation toiling just beneath that frigidly polite tenor.

It seems like there’s an unwelcoming crowd of company gathered in his room while he has been resting, and Hilmes has a feeling that unless he opens his eyes soon, the bickering will only continue and the peaceful sleep he’s been hoping to get will be impossible.

“Xan…des…” Sand grains scratch against his throat when he attempts to speak, and the right side of his face still aches with the reminder of the fire from almost a week ago even as the injury begins to gradually heal beneath the bandages.

His eyes are gummed down with sleep as he struggles to open them, and in the near darkness of the room with only slivers of sunlight filtering through the blinds as the only source of illumination, Hilmes has to blink a few times before his one eye not obstructed by bandages can adjust and spots the three figures standing by his bedside.

The looming shadow of his bodyguard is a familiar sight that immediately puts Hilmes at ease in a strange surrounding; the other two men are standing further away, their backs against the wall of the bedroom to give them plenty of space, and neither have spoken another word since Hilmes has displayed signs of waking up.

Xandes lowers his body so that they can speak at eye-level and quickly replies to his master’s call, “I’m right here, Mr. Hilmes.”  

In his sleep-muddled mind, Hilmes still somehow notices that Xandes is no longer holding his hand; he vaguely wonders why that is before he decides that a) this is neither the time nor the place to be asking insignificant questions, and b) he really wants to be left alone before strange thoughts like the one he just had can consume him.

The dark-haired man pushes himself up on his elbows, wincing slightly when his weakened muscles start to give in, but Xandes immediately reaches out with one strong arm to support his back before Hilmes can even utter a word. Xandes fixes the pillow so his master can recline in a slightly more comfortable position, and hands him a glass of water, gaze lowered in silence, which is rare for the usually raucous young man who has been by his side, protecting him since their early teenage years.

Hilmes nods in thanks as he hands the empty glass back to Xandes before he fixes his hardened gaze up at the two men standing by the doorway.

“Arslan,” the name by itself is enough to fill Hilmes with a burst of unspeakable hatred, and he doesn’t try to hide it at all when he glares at the younger man with piercing green eyes, his tone low and unfriendly. “What are you doing in here? You’re the last person I want to see.”

“Discourteous as always,” the man standing protectively beside Arslan murmurs with distaste, mouth tightening into an unimpressed frown as he folds his arms across his chest, “Mr. Arslan has been kind enough to take you in and provide you protection while you recover despite the risk he’s posing to himself and his clan, and yet you dare to––”

“Elam, that’s enough,” Arslan places a firm hand on his companion’s shoulder. He never raises his voice during the exchange, but there’s a hint of authority laced within his unassuming tenor, and Elam backs off though his forest green eyes remain defiant.

“I apologize for my man’s insolence,” Arslan turns back to Hilmes, his smile polite.

“What do you want?” Hilmes demands, though his hoarse, whispery voice from smoke inhalation in the fire makes him sound weaker than he intends.

“I want to talk with you,” Arslan is still using his calm, pleasant tone, as if he’s talking to a mere friend, and Hilmes despises this more than anything. He wants to make the younger man cower and shake with fear, wants to tear him apart as Andragoras has tear apart his family and clan, for they share the same blood and therefore the same ambitions, do they not?

His thought halts there, and Hilmes is stranded, perplexed.

If Andragoras wanted him dead, why would his son risk his own life to save him? They’re cousins through the cursed bloodline, but they haven’t seen or contact each other since Osroes decided to break away from the main family two decades ago to form his own organization.

He’s also heard that Arslan has founded his own clan just three years prior when he came of age; for what reason Hilmes didn’t know, nor did he care at the time.

In the beginning, Lion’s Den was just a small, scattered group of riffraff that appears to have no hopes of becoming anything more than just a trivial gang incapable of gaining a following or fighting for its own turf. Headed by its young, inexperienced leader who’s the castaway son of the biggest mafia family in Pars, the heart of the clan composes of some well-known names in the underground world: the notorious arms dealer Daryun; the eccentric yet intelligent strategist, recruiter, and art smuggler Narsus; a talented surgeon and ruthless leader of drug trafficking Farangis; and the mysterious, flirtatious, yet highly-skilled assassin Gieve.

In the three years since its birth, Lion’s Den has grown significantly stronger in terms of manpower, operations, and resources, and it’s slowly but surely becoming a serious threat for Andragoras’ Ecbatana Group.

Arslan may have willingly left the main clan, but Hilmes is certain that the younger man is expecting a favour – something in return for his hospitality.  

“Leave us for a moment, Xandes,” his cold, vigilant gaze never leaves Arslan’s figure.

“But Mr. Hilmes––”

“It’s fine,” he turns his head slightly to face Xandes, the steel in his iris softening just a degree.

“I understand,” Xandes bows and leaves the room.

“Elam, if you please.”

“Of course,” the brunet nods and follows Xandes’ tracks as he closes the door quietly behind him.

Arslan helps himself to the chair by Hilmes’ bedside, his expression still amiable. “Do you need anything at all? You don’t need to hesitate to ask.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hilmes snaps.

The young leader of Lion’s Den doesn’t look rattled at all, but his earlier smile has diminished a little, becoming brittle, and he straightens his back as if he’s steeling himself for a battle.

“Saam has already explained everything to you, hasn’t he?”

In fact, the most-trusted lieutenant who acts like a father-figure for the younger members of Khosrow was the one who arrived at his doorstep one week ago with a badly-burned Hilmes in his arms. His own clothes were burnt in patches and dried blood stained his ashen face as if they had just barely escape from a fistfight; standing close behind them was Xandes, who didn’t look like he’d fare any better.

It was only after Farangis had spent hours in their shared condo’s fully-equipped operation room and came out declaring that Hilmes would make it through safely that Saam was able to relax enough to tell Arslan and his two lieutenants what had happened. The older man was hesitant when Narsus asked if he had any suspicions as to who were behind the violent attack, but upon more insistent questioning from Daryun, Saam looked away from Arslan for the first time that evening, cheeks tainted with shame, as he admitted that the attacker might have been sent by Andragoras.

“Not enough,” Hilmes insists, fingers gathering into fists. “What can you possibly gain by letting me stay?”

“Probably more trouble than what it’s worth,” Arslan chuckles, “at least that’s what Narsus and Daryun have been telling me.”

“You should listen to them,” Hilmes murmurs, looking away. “Your dear, loving father is probably still searching for me out there, hoping to finish me off. It’ll only be a matter of time before he realizes that I’m here.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Arslan says, looking directly at him. His tone hasn’t changed – still that gentle wisp of cloud over sunlight – but something in the way his eyes gleam with genuine determination causes Hilmes to rethink his options. “As long as you’re under my roof, you are under Lion’s Den’s protection. I can promise you that.”

“I don’t understand... Why would you risk your own clan’s wellbeing by harbouring me?”

The frustration is apparent through the tautness of his voice and his shaking frame.

“You are my cousin,” Arslan tells him like it’s the simplest – the only – answer, a helpless smile curving along his lips, “and a part of the family. No matter how much you may deny it, we are connected by our bloodline, and I will not stand idly by if something were to happen to you.”

“And what of Andragoras?” The bitter taste lingers as the name of his parents’ killer stains his tongue.

“He banished me three years ago in front of all the highest-ranked members in Ecbatana,” Arslan says, eyes fluttering closed as he recalls the scene – and he can do so as calmly as if it were someone else’s memories now, “he’s no longer my father, and I’m no longer his son. Though our organizations are now separate entities, I cannot condone what he has done to you and your clan. I––”

Arslan pauses, head lowered.

“Whatever it is, just spit it out,” Hilmes sighs.

When he looks up to speak to Hilmes once more, the blue in his eyes is fierce through the veil of his silver hair, “I know I cannot bring your parents or your people back, so at least let us be your shield until you can stand on your own once more.”

Hilmes stares at the man who’s almost a decade younger – the determined set to his mouth, the kindness in his eyes – and he cannot say no.

He still doesn’t trust him yet – or Lion’s Den – but he always trusts Saam’s judgement; he has nowhere else to go, so he might as well just stay put for now.

“Fine,” Hilmes assents, tension still stirring beneath his skin, “I will repay you in due time; I don’t like owing people any favors.”

“Sounds good to me,” Arslan pulls himself out of the chair with a more upbeat smile than before.

After he leaves, Hilmes sags his back against the pillow, eyelids falling shut as a tired sigh escapes his lips.

-

Two days later finds Hilmes healthy enough to be out of bed and walking about, so Arslan warmly invites him to familiarize himself with the condominium that all the major members of Lion’s Den co-own.

In the office – a sunlit area of full-length glass windows that extend across two sides of the room while the remaining space is occupied by shelves of books and neatly organized binders and folders as well as a large mahogany table and matching padded chairs – that also serves as a reading room whenever it’s not being used for meetings, Hilmes is avoiding the rest of the Lion’s Den members that are milling about the condo as he tries to quietly read when Narsus and Saam come in, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Hair streaked with premature white and with bruised shadows beneath his eyes, Saam looks as if he hasn’t been sleeping well for the last few weeks, and Hilmes’ heart tugs uncomfortably, knowing well that he’s the reason that his lieutenant and guardian has been so worried.  

“Mr. Hilmes. How are you feeling?” Saam is the first to notice his young master, and his back straightens instinctively.

“Much better, thank you, Saam.”

“Hilmes, I trust that you’ve been recovering well?” Narsus asks with a pleasant smile, an expression that Hilmes is already wary of.

“Dr. Farangis is good at her job,” Hilmes admits.

Under the surgeon’s care, the burns have been healing as they should, leaving minimal scarring on his face and arm though sharp changes in temperature and even physical touching still cause the sensitive skin to flare slightly with heat.

“Oh, she’s the best,” Narsus agrees, “though we all take care to stay on her good side. You don’t want to have to deal with the doctor when she gets truly furious.”

Hilmes is almost curious enough to ask, but he’s heard rumors about the dark-haired beauty, who’s known to be a competent surgeon as much as she’s revered as a reputable yet callous leader in the drug trafficking business.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hilmes replies coolly, and then turns to Saam, “Do you know where Xandes is?”

Earlier in the day, Hilmes had sent his bodyguard away so he can read in peace, but under Narsus’ calm and almost calculated gaze, Hilmes wishes nothing more than to be as far away from the strategist as humanly possible.

“He’s in the communal kitchen downstairs,” Saam says.

“Whatever Xandes is making, it’s smelling heavenly down there,” Narsus adds, “I’d never expect that bodyguard of yours to be the type that bakes in his spare time.”

Actually, neither does Hilmes, but he only nods once before stepping out of the office.  

-

The honey-glazed aroma of baking phyllo pastries and orange-scented pistachios and walnuts fill the kitchen, which is surprisingly empty when Hilmes finally locates it.

The timer is set on the stove, informing him that whatever’s in the oven will be ready in fourteen minutes.

He peeks through the oven door, and his eyes widen in surprise when he sees triangles of baklava in the baking pan, slowly rising and turning a delicious golden brown.

He doesn’t even realize that Xandes is aware of what his favourite dessert is; his bodyguard is more observant than Hilmes has given him credit for.

Nursing a cup of coffee that’s quickly becoming too cold to consume, Hilmes, expecting to see Xandes by the doorway, turns around from the counter he’s been leaning against when he hears footsteps behind him.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the young master of Khosrow Group himself,” the man announces in a sing-song voice.

Leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded elegantly across his chest, a fox-like grin on his face, and sea-green eyes gleaming with intention, the most capable assassin in Lion’s Den is staring at Hilmes like he’s an animal about to be slaughtered on the spot.

A hint of warning prickles Hilmes’ skin and crawls up his spine, screaming at him to move, but his feet will not budge.

“What do you want?” Hilmes mutters as the man walks in nonchalantly and begins to make himself a cup of coffee.

“Nothing,” Gieve replies cheerfully as he pours himself a generous amount of the steaming hot drink into a ceramic mug.

“Bullshit. Arslan sent you, didn’t he?”

“If you must know, I’m really doing this on my own accord, and I’m here to give you some friendly advice.

“Arslan is a good man – a kind leader who wears his heart on his sleeve, which is kind of a funny trait for someone in our line of business – and I’ve known many who have tried to take advantage of his kindness,” Gieve adds an excessive amount of vanilla extract into his very milky coffee as he continues to speak, “Can you guess where they’ve gone now?”

Gieve is standing across from Hilmes on the other side of the counter, stirring his beverage with a focused gaze.

“I think I may have a pretty good idea,” Hilmes gulps a mouthful of his black coffee, and winces at the cold bitterness.

“Good,” Gieve places his spoon down with a delicate clink, eyes cold and callous as a hunter’s glancing up at Hilmes through purple fringes as the assassin takes the mug to his lips for a tentative sip.

“But just in case I haven’t made myself clear: If you touch one hair on Arslan’s head––” Gieve’s smirk is still in place when he carefully puts his mug back on the counter, but there’s a sly sharpness in his darkened eyes that makes Hilmes take a cautious step back as the man about half a head shorter than him invades his personal space, one arm raised as he reaches up and lightly touches Hilmes’ forehead with the tip of his index finger and his thumb cocked like a gun’s trigger, “––bang. I’ll make sure you’ll never touch that buff bodyguard of yours ever again.”

For a moment, neither of them move, but then the timer beeps urgently, and Xandes arrives a few seconds later, eyes flickering between the two men who are now standing two paces apart.

“Anything that matter? Mr. Hilmes, is this asshole bothering you?”

Xandes sends the man a dirty glare, which doesn’t look as threatening as he aims to since he’s also wearing a small, frilly apron with patterns of bunnies screen-printed on pastel blue fabric, a garment that probably belongs to Alfreed, Farangis’ young assistant.

“My name’s Gieve, not ‘asshole’,” the assassin throws a bright grin at Xandes before he begins to saunter away towards the kitchen’s doorway, slender hips swaying with purpose. He adds over his shoulder, “And calling me that ain’t going to get you anywhere near this fine piece of ass.”

“Why you little––!”

“Xandes, enough.”

There’s no real ire in his young master’s tone, Xandes notices right away and though he may be brash at times, he does know when to shut up when it counts.

“I won’t let him get away next time,” Xandes swears under his breath before hurrying towards the oven to take out the finished product he’d spent the entire morning creating.

“Now that we’ve decided to take refuge here for the foreseeable future, it’s best that we keep our relationship with Lion’s Den civil.”

“You’re right, Mr. Hilmes,” Xandes agrees with several nods as he places the baking tray on the stovetop. “I’ll keep my tone in check… but I can’t promise I’ll be able to hold back when that insufferable hitman is around.”

Hilmes knows he’s referring to Gieve, and he can’t agree more.

The saccharine scent of honey and roasted nuts is even more potent now, and with the afternoon sunlight trailing golden strands through the wide windows by the sink, the kitchen feels almost homely and cozy.

He can never allow himself to let his guard down when he’s in an unfamiliar territory full of too many strangers and people he has yet to trust, but with his bodyguard beside him, Hilmes can at least feel slightly at ease when it’s just the two of them alone.

“Baklava…” His fingers mindlessly rub the rim of the cup, emerald eyes glancing with interest at the baked dessert. It’s been a long time since he’s had one.

“It’s nothing fancy!” Xandes exclaims, cheeks turning pink as he takes off the oven mitts and begins to take out a few plates from the cupboard. “I thought I’d try my hands at making it from scratch since you like it so much.”

“How did you know?”

Xandes gives him an incredulous look, one eyebrow raised – something that he usually doesn’t dare do in front of all the other subordinates – but Hilmes finds this little exchange refreshing, that the younger man can be less formal and stiff around him. He wishes they can have this – whatever this is – more often.

“We’ve been together for almost ten years now, Mr. Hilmes,” Xandes says as he cuts a piece of the dessert and places it carefully on a plate, “I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but the least I can do is knowing your likes and dislikes so that I won’t cause you any unnecessary trouble.”

“It’s been that long, huh?”

Thanking him with a rare smile – a mere twitch of his lips – when Xandes passes him a plate, Hilmes takes a bite of the soft pastry, still warm enough to burn the tip of his tongue.

The orange scent is subtle and enticing, and the amount of sweetness is perfect for Hilmes’ liking; he wonders how many tries it has taken Xandes to get it just right.

He wonders how he has never noticed that, other than the rash, blustering side of Xandes, there’s also a side of the man who enjoys baking sweets and is surprisingly talented at it.

He wonders how much he’s missed in the years he spent fumbling his way up to meet his father’s expectations – following his footsteps to defend and strengthen the empire that Osroes has built from the ground up after they’d split from the main faction, doing everything he can to learn the trades of the business, making sure that every action he takes is precise and every command he gives is iron-clad so that his subordinates will follow him and place their trust in him.

In the end, everything crumbles around him like a grand sand castle being swept by vicious waves of the lawless ocean. He should consider himself lucky that he still has Xandes and Saam by his side.

As he finishes swallowing his last mouthful of baklava, Hilmes turns his thoughtful gaze towards the younger man, who’s already finished his portion and is now putting the rest of the dessert into several Tupperware to store them for later consumption.

“Xandes, I should apologize.”

“Why?” he turns swiftly to face his young master, brows knitted into a confused frown.

“I wasn’t ready to take on the role as Khosrow’s leader, but I’ve acted like a fool, pretending that I’m good enough and demanding all the members to respect me when I hadn’t done nearly enough to deserve it,” the words trickle out of him like the slow dredge of a rusted tap, and as painful as it is to hear himself admit the truth, it’s also lifting some of the heaviness from his chest. “I wish I’ve taken the time to get to know and understand you and the others. Perhaps that was why Andragoras was able to take advantage and…”

“Mr. Hilmes!” Xandes leans across the counter and gathers his master’s hands into his own so quickly and suddenly that Hilmes doesn’t have time to react, “What happened – the fire, the ambush – none of that was your fault! You mustn’t think that way; your parents wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself.”

Hilmes stares at their joint hands, taking in how warm and rough Xandes’ fingers are against his, and how incredibly safe he feels whenever he’s around.

When Xandes speaks again, his voice dips into a gentler tenor, like soft thunder rumbling in the distant – deep and comforting.

“You’ve always been a good leader – inexperienced, sure – but we’ve all got to start somewhere, right?”

His hazel eyes are trained upon Hilmes’ face, and they show nothing but absolute trust and warmth that lights a small flame in his withering heart.

“Thank you for believing in me despite how much I’ve already fucked up.”

“Yeah, anytime.”

“Woah, hey! Didn’t mean to interrupt a touching moment there,” an unwanted audience makes his presence known at the doorway with a devilish grin on his lips.

The two men pull their hands away, Xandes looking more flustered while Hilmes remains impeccably calm except for the tell-tale sign of the blushing on his cheeks.

“What is it now, Gieve?” Xandes grunts as he begins to untie his apron and pulls it over his head to hang it on a hook by the refrigerator.

“Hilmes, Arslan wants to see you in the meeting room,” Gieve tells the guests, “apparently, Andragoras has already managed to sniff out where you are. Damn, this is going to be so much fun!”

“We have very different definitions of what’s considered ‘fun’,” Hilmes rolls his eyes but follows Gieve’s lead nevertheless as they make their way upstairs, with Xandes following close behind.

-

A/N: I realize that this is a very abrupt ending… I don’t even know what to say anymore, haha!

[latterdaysasuke]

Arslan x Estelle Novel Summary (Book 7)

(Below is a summary of events from Book 7, Chapter 5)

Background: By now, Ecbanata had fallen to the control of Hilmes after defeating the Lusitanians. Guiscard's two generals Baudouin and Montferrat had been slain in battle and Guiscard fled from the capital with his remaining forces, with Andragora's army beseiging the Hilmes-held capital.

Arslan's army travels to Mount Damavant in search of the legendary sword Ruknabad so Arslan can gain an advantage in the 3-way struggle for Parsian kingship.

In a village at the base of the mountain they encounter a young Lusitanian knight whose hair had turned white and had lost his memory (In the manga he was the unnamed knight who picks up the sword in a crevice after Zandeh throws it away, and loses consciousness after a brief encounter with the Snake King. In the novel he is known as Don Ricardo but the Parsians give him another name Parafuda. He becomes an important part of how Estelle's story unfolds in part 2.)

This guy:

Estelle serves as a translator for Arslan's group in their discourse with Don Ricardo and learns that he had possibly seen the Snake King.

Undetered by the threat of the Snake King, Arslan's group proceeds to Mount Damavant and finds the sword. As he holds the sword his men kneel and swear their allegiance to him once again.

"Estelle is the only one who does not speak, since she is not Arslan's subordinate. She only remains silent, casting her gaze upon the prince."

Fast forward, Arslan's forces enter the capital and begin to distribute food to the citizens in order to win them over. Estelle runs to where she had left the surviving Lusitanians who returned with her from Saint Emmanuel's fortress and finds out that they had all been killed. After a moment of stunned silence she weeps for them:

"In this world, there are things that cannot be accomplished simply by one's own kindess and valor. So it is necessary that authority be used properly.

She recalls the words once spoken to her by the Parsian tactician. So then, now that all the wounded she had been protecting have been killed, have all her efforts been in vain? No, Estelle tells herself. As long as the living endeavors to prevent such tragedy from repeating itself, wouldn't all the bloodshed have served as a valuable lesson? She says within herself."

Fast forward, Andragoras and the Lusitanian king kills each other, Arslan defeats Hilmes and Hilmes flees while Saam surrenders and Zandeh is captured, Arslan ascends to the throne. Estelle herself played very little role in the actual fighting, torn between Arslan and her allegiance to Lusitania.

"After his official ascension to the throne, Arslan experiences one final farewell. That day, on the evening of September 2, Arslan, accompanied by 15 subordinates, including Daryun and Narsus, reaches the outskirt of the city. The season for night travel has yet to pass. Arslan leaves Daryun and his men at the base of the mountain, himself remaining on the mountaintop on horseback alone with the one who is departing. He is coming to bid farewell to Estelle, the squire who is to return to her homeland.

Estelle plans to bring the remains of the deseased Innocentis VII back to Lusitania. For a king who has suffered the mockery of just about everyone, Estelle alone remains loyal to him to the very end.

When he learns of Estelle's decision, Arslan did not try to stop her. He knew he could not. All he could do was to ensure that Estelle returns safely to her homeland.

If they were to pass through Maryam, they might be caught up in the conflict between Guiscard and the archbishop Bodin. It was best to travel along the coast through Misr, in which case sufficient supply and travel fare was needed.

Naturally, Arslan provides the funds for her travel. The Lusitanian known as Parafuda will also return to his homeland with Estelle, perhaps there he would be able to find his past.

'Thank you for all your care.'

Estelle bows her head from horseback. A caravan slowly heads west along the Continental Highway, the group to which Estelle belong heading for Misr. Arslan returns a bow.

'Have a safe trip home.'

Though in his heart he finds it difficult to let go, the words that come out were ever so plain. Arslan can't help but wish he possessed Gieve's poetic eloquence. He continues clumsily:

'If you were ever to return to Pars, we will welcome you with open arms.'

Those were impractical words. Once Estelle returns to her homeland she must deal with matters such as land inheritance, succession, and knighthood, as well as responsibilities to her families back home.

'It would be much better if you could come to Lusitania.'

Estelle replies, her face flushed as if angered.

'After some time, you will become an authentic heathen, and your horns and tail will grow out, won't they? But no matter how you change, I will see right through you.'

Estelle pulls on her reins and turns to leave with these parting words:

'Because I know the real you.'

Those words were similar to what Daryun had once spoken to Arslan. When she finishes, Estelle rides off. Arslan did not respond, he only waves at the departing figure, as Estelle turns to look, Arslan's figure appears to be engulfed in flames. She joins up with the caravan and blends into the march, vanishing into the distance. Only then did Arslan turn to leave."

(In a nutshell: Arslan wants Estelle to stay but knows she can't. Estelle wants to see Arslan again but knows it's unlikely.)

[innerchorus]

I could not find it! D:

It's 'soft mouthed'!

[tired-reader-writer]

This should be a reaction image.

Hilmes and the moon.

Not gonna lie, this line sounds really badass and cool. If only it weren't for the ever-looming sense of dread...

Ooooh my man looking sinister here.

That's a good Zandeh face!

I'm not sure whether that's the setting moon or the rising sun but at a glance this almost looks like worship, if you know what I mean? Exaltation, the way the tendrils are shaped reminds me of worship or reverence.

I may be reading too much into it, though.

@innerchorus BLORBO SPOTTED.

This transition be making me feel something. I don't know exactly what, but something.

Babies!

[daryun]

2020 chapters 78-89: mood collage from each month. 

Are some the same? Sometimes you need more than one image.

(April 2020 I believe was left out this year, so the first panel is December 2019)

Personally, I am ready for Gulaze and Gilan’s beaches.

[importantdestinydefendor]

Chapter 130 (YAY) thoughts/rambles

Okay, time for my peace of mind!

Hilmes expration on the first page!

Innocentis reaction to the sword nearly missing him lol. Just straight up faints (I would not have been better)

okay flashback time!

VAHRIZ *sobs*

Daryun, the man that you are! You do not know what you do to me!

(Especially that last panel of him training Arslan! *faints*)

ahem enough of that!

Oh, new tid-bit of Gilan! Of course, Narsus was the one who thought of that move! But I do like that Gieve was the one who taught Arslan it.

Nice one Arslan!

GIEVE! That is such a cool panel, holy!

But sad that Hilmes would have lost either way... Now he at least has his life still

ZANDEH MY BOY! How he didn't hesitate!

Saam! Ugh my boyyys!

Alfarid my baby precious! One of my favourit moments of this chapter truly! The understanding between her and Arslan! *violently sobs*

Zandeh kneels? In front of Arslan?? Saams little bow of gratetude when they leave??? My heart! (Also, Arakawa. How does Saams chin get squarer every chapter??? My man is turning into a rectangle!))

Oh I do not like that snake! Not one bit!

Oof Andragoras is menacing! The way he stomps in, how Alfarid and Elam just stare in fear..

and even though everyone is tense Arslan doesn't falter nor move an inch - same for Daryun and Narsus!

YES, Arslan! Stick it to the man!

well would you look at that! Andragoras can be soft. Over 15 years to late, my man

"Your majesty" AAAAAAAH. Suck on that, Andycakes! You won't have any emotional control over Arslan anymore!

STEP BACK FROM MY CHILD, YOU SICK FUCKER!

How the fuck does Andragoras have the lungs to yell that loud! To not only shake the people in the tower but the goddamn tower itself!?!?!

but still, neither Arslan nor Daryun or Narsus budge! They must have some really strong mentallity by now to stand there. Because I would have already jumped out of the tower just going "Nope, not gonna do this."

JESUS CHRIST Innocentis gave me a jumpscare!

(also nice touch that Andragoras only calls him "Innocentis". I don't know, that just jumped out to me (edit: just saw Elams face lol))

Gods, possessed Innocentis really freeks me out. How strong he is

even after Andragoras smashes his elbow in his face, Innosentis just drags - no, carrys - him across the room and yeets the two of them out the window

damn, that last panel is somber in it's simplicity

Bonus! some Au thoughts

Azar coming up behind Andragoras when he stands in the room and holding a sword to his neck

Andragoras being the usual dick he is berates her

she also doesn't budge (because she stubborn like that lol)

I though that would be a nice full circle moment/call back to the first chapter of the Au since there are a lot of them in this ArSen chapter

but Azar gets grabbed by Andragoras and thrown across the room by him ragdoll-style (since Azar isn't that strong compared to him)

Azar crashes into the wall besides Daryun

the others see that she has arrows stuck in her back (aka the leather/armor) and some scratchs from a fight trying to keep Farah's army from coming up the tower

then the whole thing with Innocentis happens

before we can take a breather Farah opens a portal under Alfarid and Azar catapults herself forward to grab her

but also falls in with her (we see another pov of Azar and Alfarid falling spotting Gieve having the same fate)

Chabik (covered in blood) appears and tries to grab the two (same goes for Daryun and Elam) but fails

they watch helpleslly as their friends fall and the portal closes

and the same events that I last talked happen: that Farzin asks Saam for help and they all go to Maar

This will be updated with every new chapter we have since this is the transition to the fanon part of the story.

[cavalrytwunks]

S1E23: The Battle for the Keep of Saint Emmanuel

I type these as I watch; bonus points if you spot the scenes that made me hit caps lock are kind to your friend who has an anxiety disorder.

so, apparently this semester took more out of me than I thought

also, I’m having a Gender Identity Crisis™ and i’m seeing a counselor tomorrow (because I’m a hot mess, but I’ve had a lot of practice being a hot mess and I know it’s a good move)

anyway, I actually wrote this one a few weeks ago and just... never posted it?

-- loving the contrast between Arslan talking battle plans sitting on the same level as his advisors...and Hilmes, shouting from a balcony for bloody victory and death to heathens

-- did something happen in the manga that like... more firmly established Alfirid/Narsus?

-- ZANDEH, that's his name. -- well shit, that's one way to end a siege, I guess. Zandeh does not have the patience for it.

-- I want to see Kishward stomp some fuckers. -- fuck, Sam's pretty good at this. -- but I firmly believe that Kishward can kick every ass and that Narsus has at least 7 more contingency plans

-- Kubard has the same eyebrows as Daryun

-- uh... yeah, Étoile, you're not gonna convert anyone like this

-- I have a lot of sympathy for Zandeh's blacksmith

-- yeah, there's no way Arslan is in that tent, dummy. it's bait.

-- OHHHHHH IT'S A DARYUN/ZANDEH THROWDOWN

-- yo, Kishward fighting with 2 swords? is awesome. mostly because it's a monumentally stupid style of fighting until you're disgustingly good at it.

-- sorceror? just popped out of the ground to be creepy for a second. okay, weird guy.

-- OHOHOHOHHHHHHHH Étoile, now you know the truth! -- cliffhanger? damn it.

[darknebulablader]

them 💗💗