Post by westernsunset on Feb 14, 2019 6:52:49 GMT 10
Title: That Type of Persons
Rating: PG-13 for internalized homophobia and a little bit of sexism.
Word Count: 2,157
Bingo: Sweet+Childhood Friends+Arranged Marriage+Chivalry+Lost Love
Summary: Garvey and Cleon find each other and lose each other.
Garvey of Runnerspring leaned up against the door, willing himself to open it. He heard the clatter of boys in the hall and knew that all the older pages were assembling to pick the first years to sponsor. He knew he should go out but he couldn’t make himself. What if no one picked him? What if everyone laughed at him, knew he wasn’t cut out for knighthood?
You’re certainly not cut out to be a knight if you’re too scared to open the door. To spite the mean voice in his head, Garvey threw his door open, turned to see where everyone had gathered, and promptly got the wind knocked out of him.
Garvey had collied with a solid mass of a page about three inches taller than he was. “Sorry about that,” the large boy said, smiling cheerfully. “It happens!” He clapped Garvey on the back with one broad hand.
Despite himself, Garvey smiled a little as he trotted in line with the other pages. He was surprised to see the big redhead in line with the other first years, he looked older than all of them. During the introductions, he learned the boy’s name was Cleon. Cleon didn’t stop smiling the whole time, looking around in the hallway, bounding over to his sponsor, quick to laugh. In comparison to all the other nervous pages, Cleon was like a breath of fresh air. Garvey was so busy sneaking glances at Cleon, he almost didn’t notice the Crown Prince, who was starting page training with the rest of them.
He shook his head a little. He had to focus, there would be plenty of time to make friends later. That is, if he made friends at all.
—
Training was so much harder than Garvey could have imagined. He was further behind than all of the other boys, shorter, smaller, slower. Every time he picked up a new skill, it seemed like the whole group had moved on to something else. And by the time he had enough energy to think about making friends, everyone else had found their clique already. If he didn’t have a sponsor, he would have eaten every meal alone. As is, he spent nights after training holed up in his room, trying to catch up on classwork.
He didn’t think anyone noticed until Cleon waylaid him one night as the pages were leaving the mess hall.
“I feel like I never see you out of training. What do you do at night?” he asked, with his regular big, toothy smile.
“I—just work, classwork I mean, I mostly just do classwork,” Garvey bumbled, wondering why he suddenly felt so nervous.
“Well I do classwork too. Want to work together? Mathematics is so hard,” Cleon said.
“Uh, sure. Let me get my books? Where can—where do you—”
“I’ll just go with you, we can work in my room,” Cleon said.
Cleon seemed to have grown in the two months since they came to the palace, and Garvey found himself trotting to keep up, cursing himself for not growing.
“I don’t know how they expect us to keep up with classwork,” Cleon said. “I’m so tired by the end of training I can’t remember anything they even teach us in mathematics.”
“Really?” Garvey was shocked. “You’re tired from training? But you’re so good at it!”
Cleon laughed. “Are you kidding? Look,” he spread out his fingers, and Garvey saw they were dotted with bruises. “The staff keeps hitting me, I don’t know why.”
“I don’t think I’ve hit the target in archery in weeks,” Garvey said. Hearing that Cleon was having trouble too had given him a little more confidence, made him a little more willing to share his own struggles. “They don’t even get close.”
“Did you hunt back home?” Cleon asked.
“No, we were so far South, almost to the desert. There wasn’t a lot of game. Plus we had a huntsman.”
Cleon just nodded, and Garvey noticed his smile drop for just a second. He hoped he hadn’t offended Cleon, but almost as soon as the cloud of trouble passed his face, it was gone.
“Well I’ll be glad to have the help, you seem good at mathematics,” Cleon said as the two of them walked from Garvey’s room to Cleon’s.
“I do?”
He laughed again. “Sure! You always know the answer when Master Yayin calls on you. I sound like a bumbling idiot.”
“You don’t!” The two boys went into Cleon’s room and he shut the door behind them.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” Cleon said. “Sounds like we’re both a little unsure of ourselves.”
Garvey didn’t respond. He didn’t want to admit how hard things were. People would know he didn’t belong.
“I know we’re not supposed to talk about it,” Cleon said. “The Code and all. But sometimes I feel like I’m the only one struggling. It’s kind of nice to hear that you’re having trouble with some of the work too.”
“I guess I am,” Garvey said, feeling his stomach drop a little. It was terrifying to admit weakness. Part of him worried that Cleon was going to use this to tease him, force him out of training. But Cleon just smiled.
“Maybe you can help me with mathematics and I’ll help you with archery,” Cleon said.
“Sounds good,” Garvey said, giving his first genuine smile since he’d started training.
—
The two of them fell into something of a routine. They wouldn’t work together every day, but one or two nights a week, they’d meet and work on classwork. Cleon would help Garvey strengthen his arms for archery, and Garvey helped Cleon with his hand position for staff work. As the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder, their conversation started to turn to their own lives.
“It’s hard,” Cleon said. “Knowing that not only do I have to make it to knighthood, serve the king well, and still protect the people of my fief, and provide for them. It feels like too much pressure.”
Garvey nodded vigorously. “I know what you mean. If I don’t succeed as a knight…” He trailed off.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?” Cleon prodded.
“I just know my father would be disappointed,” Garvey’s cheeks burned with shame.
“Ah,” Cleon said. It was quiet for a minute. “My father died when I was young,” Cleon finally said. “But I can imagine what you mean. My mother made if very clear who exactly I’m expected to marry.”
“You have an arranged marriage?” Garvey knew they were still common, but he didn’t have one, and none of the other boys he knew did. Cleon was the first noble he’d ever met with an arranged marriage.
Cleon nodded. “I haven’t met her yet. I hope she’s nice.”
“Are you…are you nervous about it?”
“A little.” Cleon’s voice sounded smaller than normal.
Garvey couldn’t say exactly how it happened. One minute they were sitting next to each other on Cleon’s bed, and then next moment, his hands were around Cleon’s waist and Cleon was kissing him.
Stop! This isn’t something boys do, not with other boys. The voice in Garvey’s head was forceful, but like so many other situations that year, Garvey couldn’t make his body do what his mind commanded. Every rational thought, the part of his brain that still remembered the Code of Chivalry demanded that he pull away, and yet. Here he was.
He couldn’t have said how long the two of them kissed each other, only that Cleon was first to break the kiss, and with a fierce blush said, “now problem 3. I still don’t understand it,” and the boys went back to math as if nothing had happened.
—
That was how it went. Garvey and Cleon didn’t see each other any more frequently, still once or twice a week. They still worked on homework and training together. The only difference was that every time they saw each other, they ended up kissing, and eventually more than kissing.
At first, Garvey wondered if they should discuss it. But the longer it went on, the more Garvey realized that he enjoyed it. The more Garvey enjoyed it, the more afraid he became. He knew what people, particularly his father, said about men like that. Garvey started to believe that if they never talked about it, it wouldn’t be real. And so the two of them talked about everything but that. By the end of their second year as pages, Garvey had become an expert in forgetting what he and Cleon did together, and it seemed like Cleon had too.
It probably would have stayed like that forever if that probationer page hadn’t showed up. Garvey didn’t have a problem with her at first. He knew that Joren and his friends were messing with her, and like a typical girl, she seemed to take it more personally than all the other pages took hazing. It was something every page had to do. She just wasted her energy getting into fights. Other than that though, Garvey barely paid attention to her.
Cleon certainly did though. More and more he would go study in Kel’s room, and Garvey started to see him less and less. Eventually, the only time the spoke was before class, or when they were paired together in training.
Another person would have talked to Cleon about it. But Garvey wasn’t that type of person. So he just didn’t say anything, and drifted away.
—
“You shouldn’t have gotten so mad,” came a voice from the doorway. Garvey turned, his heart jumping a little. He hadn’t been alone with Cleon since Midwinter of last year. Most of him had assumed that anything he had with Cleon was over, but a small part of him kept hoping they could go back to how they used to be.
“I’m not having this conversation while you’re standing in the hallway.” Garvey hadn’t intended to sound so angry. He didn’t even feel angry. More than anything he felt scared, nervous that he would say something wrong and ruin whatever was left with Cleon. He didn’t know why his fear always sounded like anger.
Cleon shut the door and sat on Garvey’s bed. “You know Neal was just making a joke. When you react like that, you’re showing everyone that the joke hurts you, and it won’t be long before they realize there’s a grain of truth to the joke and a reason why you’re hurt by it,” Cleon was looking at his hands, not at Garvey. Neal had insinuated earlier that he had some sort of unnatural relationship with Joren, and Garvey could let that be said.
“I can’t let Neal going around saying that. Real men challenge that sort of thing,” was all Garvey could think to say.
“Almost everyone has been the target of those jokes,” Cleon responded. “You see how many things people say about Neal, he doesn’t let it bother him. So no one thinks it’s actually true. You let it get under your skin, people start to think it’s true.”
“But it’s not!” Garvey said. He hated to feel his throat getting scratchy, as it always did when he was about to cry. “It’s not true! I’m not like that!”
Cleon’s face was unreadable. “If you’re not, then you need to be less angry when people say things like that.”
“Why do you care?” Garvey bit back.
Cleon looked taken aback. “Because you’re my friend.”
“Could’ve fooled me, given how much time you’ve been spending with the Lump.”
“Is that what this is about?” Cleon sounded angry. “It’s not like you were ever my only friend. You never cared who I was spending time with before.”
“Before you didn’t—you still,” Garvey didn’t want to say the next part, he didn’t feel like he could. But in the past three years, he’d gotten better at forcing his body to do things his mind didn’t want to. “We still saw each other. Now we don’t. Now you spend all your time with Kel. I’m not dumb Cleon, I know what that means.”
“You think Kel and I…? Are you jealous?”
“No!” But Garvey was jealous and he’d been jealous for awhile. Not that he’d give Cleon the satisfaction of admitting it.
The two boys, young men now, sat in a frigid silence. Another person would have apologized, told Cleon how much he missed him, how much he’d grown to care for him. But Garvey wasn’t that type of person.
“Whatever we had,” Cleon said. “I mean, you know it was just kid stuff? Nothing ser—”
“I know,” Garvey cut him off. “Are we done?”
“I guess so,” Cleon said brusquely and stood up. He walked over to the door, but turned back before he opened it.
“Just be careful Garvey.”
Then he was gone. And if Garvey shed a few tears over him, no one had to know about it.
Rating: PG-13 for internalized homophobia and a little bit of sexism.
Word Count: 2,157
Bingo: Sweet+Childhood Friends+Arranged Marriage+Chivalry+Lost Love
Summary: Garvey and Cleon find each other and lose each other.
Garvey of Runnerspring leaned up against the door, willing himself to open it. He heard the clatter of boys in the hall and knew that all the older pages were assembling to pick the first years to sponsor. He knew he should go out but he couldn’t make himself. What if no one picked him? What if everyone laughed at him, knew he wasn’t cut out for knighthood?
You’re certainly not cut out to be a knight if you’re too scared to open the door. To spite the mean voice in his head, Garvey threw his door open, turned to see where everyone had gathered, and promptly got the wind knocked out of him.
Garvey had collied with a solid mass of a page about three inches taller than he was. “Sorry about that,” the large boy said, smiling cheerfully. “It happens!” He clapped Garvey on the back with one broad hand.
Despite himself, Garvey smiled a little as he trotted in line with the other pages. He was surprised to see the big redhead in line with the other first years, he looked older than all of them. During the introductions, he learned the boy’s name was Cleon. Cleon didn’t stop smiling the whole time, looking around in the hallway, bounding over to his sponsor, quick to laugh. In comparison to all the other nervous pages, Cleon was like a breath of fresh air. Garvey was so busy sneaking glances at Cleon, he almost didn’t notice the Crown Prince, who was starting page training with the rest of them.
He shook his head a little. He had to focus, there would be plenty of time to make friends later. That is, if he made friends at all.
—
Training was so much harder than Garvey could have imagined. He was further behind than all of the other boys, shorter, smaller, slower. Every time he picked up a new skill, it seemed like the whole group had moved on to something else. And by the time he had enough energy to think about making friends, everyone else had found their clique already. If he didn’t have a sponsor, he would have eaten every meal alone. As is, he spent nights after training holed up in his room, trying to catch up on classwork.
He didn’t think anyone noticed until Cleon waylaid him one night as the pages were leaving the mess hall.
“I feel like I never see you out of training. What do you do at night?” he asked, with his regular big, toothy smile.
“I—just work, classwork I mean, I mostly just do classwork,” Garvey bumbled, wondering why he suddenly felt so nervous.
“Well I do classwork too. Want to work together? Mathematics is so hard,” Cleon said.
“Uh, sure. Let me get my books? Where can—where do you—”
“I’ll just go with you, we can work in my room,” Cleon said.
Cleon seemed to have grown in the two months since they came to the palace, and Garvey found himself trotting to keep up, cursing himself for not growing.
“I don’t know how they expect us to keep up with classwork,” Cleon said. “I’m so tired by the end of training I can’t remember anything they even teach us in mathematics.”
“Really?” Garvey was shocked. “You’re tired from training? But you’re so good at it!”
Cleon laughed. “Are you kidding? Look,” he spread out his fingers, and Garvey saw they were dotted with bruises. “The staff keeps hitting me, I don’t know why.”
“I don’t think I’ve hit the target in archery in weeks,” Garvey said. Hearing that Cleon was having trouble too had given him a little more confidence, made him a little more willing to share his own struggles. “They don’t even get close.”
“Did you hunt back home?” Cleon asked.
“No, we were so far South, almost to the desert. There wasn’t a lot of game. Plus we had a huntsman.”
Cleon just nodded, and Garvey noticed his smile drop for just a second. He hoped he hadn’t offended Cleon, but almost as soon as the cloud of trouble passed his face, it was gone.
“Well I’ll be glad to have the help, you seem good at mathematics,” Cleon said as the two of them walked from Garvey’s room to Cleon’s.
“I do?”
He laughed again. “Sure! You always know the answer when Master Yayin calls on you. I sound like a bumbling idiot.”
“You don’t!” The two boys went into Cleon’s room and he shut the door behind them.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” Cleon said. “Sounds like we’re both a little unsure of ourselves.”
Garvey didn’t respond. He didn’t want to admit how hard things were. People would know he didn’t belong.
“I know we’re not supposed to talk about it,” Cleon said. “The Code and all. But sometimes I feel like I’m the only one struggling. It’s kind of nice to hear that you’re having trouble with some of the work too.”
“I guess I am,” Garvey said, feeling his stomach drop a little. It was terrifying to admit weakness. Part of him worried that Cleon was going to use this to tease him, force him out of training. But Cleon just smiled.
“Maybe you can help me with mathematics and I’ll help you with archery,” Cleon said.
“Sounds good,” Garvey said, giving his first genuine smile since he’d started training.
—
The two of them fell into something of a routine. They wouldn’t work together every day, but one or two nights a week, they’d meet and work on classwork. Cleon would help Garvey strengthen his arms for archery, and Garvey helped Cleon with his hand position for staff work. As the days grew shorter and the nights grew colder, their conversation started to turn to their own lives.
“It’s hard,” Cleon said. “Knowing that not only do I have to make it to knighthood, serve the king well, and still protect the people of my fief, and provide for them. It feels like too much pressure.”
Garvey nodded vigorously. “I know what you mean. If I don’t succeed as a knight…” He trailed off.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?” Cleon prodded.
“I just know my father would be disappointed,” Garvey’s cheeks burned with shame.
“Ah,” Cleon said. It was quiet for a minute. “My father died when I was young,” Cleon finally said. “But I can imagine what you mean. My mother made if very clear who exactly I’m expected to marry.”
“You have an arranged marriage?” Garvey knew they were still common, but he didn’t have one, and none of the other boys he knew did. Cleon was the first noble he’d ever met with an arranged marriage.
Cleon nodded. “I haven’t met her yet. I hope she’s nice.”
“Are you…are you nervous about it?”
“A little.” Cleon’s voice sounded smaller than normal.
Garvey couldn’t say exactly how it happened. One minute they were sitting next to each other on Cleon’s bed, and then next moment, his hands were around Cleon’s waist and Cleon was kissing him.
Stop! This isn’t something boys do, not with other boys. The voice in Garvey’s head was forceful, but like so many other situations that year, Garvey couldn’t make his body do what his mind commanded. Every rational thought, the part of his brain that still remembered the Code of Chivalry demanded that he pull away, and yet. Here he was.
He couldn’t have said how long the two of them kissed each other, only that Cleon was first to break the kiss, and with a fierce blush said, “now problem 3. I still don’t understand it,” and the boys went back to math as if nothing had happened.
—
That was how it went. Garvey and Cleon didn’t see each other any more frequently, still once or twice a week. They still worked on homework and training together. The only difference was that every time they saw each other, they ended up kissing, and eventually more than kissing.
At first, Garvey wondered if they should discuss it. But the longer it went on, the more Garvey realized that he enjoyed it. The more Garvey enjoyed it, the more afraid he became. He knew what people, particularly his father, said about men like that. Garvey started to believe that if they never talked about it, it wouldn’t be real. And so the two of them talked about everything but that. By the end of their second year as pages, Garvey had become an expert in forgetting what he and Cleon did together, and it seemed like Cleon had too.
It probably would have stayed like that forever if that probationer page hadn’t showed up. Garvey didn’t have a problem with her at first. He knew that Joren and his friends were messing with her, and like a typical girl, she seemed to take it more personally than all the other pages took hazing. It was something every page had to do. She just wasted her energy getting into fights. Other than that though, Garvey barely paid attention to her.
Cleon certainly did though. More and more he would go study in Kel’s room, and Garvey started to see him less and less. Eventually, the only time the spoke was before class, or when they were paired together in training.
Another person would have talked to Cleon about it. But Garvey wasn’t that type of person. So he just didn’t say anything, and drifted away.
—
“You shouldn’t have gotten so mad,” came a voice from the doorway. Garvey turned, his heart jumping a little. He hadn’t been alone with Cleon since Midwinter of last year. Most of him had assumed that anything he had with Cleon was over, but a small part of him kept hoping they could go back to how they used to be.
“I’m not having this conversation while you’re standing in the hallway.” Garvey hadn’t intended to sound so angry. He didn’t even feel angry. More than anything he felt scared, nervous that he would say something wrong and ruin whatever was left with Cleon. He didn’t know why his fear always sounded like anger.
Cleon shut the door and sat on Garvey’s bed. “You know Neal was just making a joke. When you react like that, you’re showing everyone that the joke hurts you, and it won’t be long before they realize there’s a grain of truth to the joke and a reason why you’re hurt by it,” Cleon was looking at his hands, not at Garvey. Neal had insinuated earlier that he had some sort of unnatural relationship with Joren, and Garvey could let that be said.
“I can’t let Neal going around saying that. Real men challenge that sort of thing,” was all Garvey could think to say.
“Almost everyone has been the target of those jokes,” Cleon responded. “You see how many things people say about Neal, he doesn’t let it bother him. So no one thinks it’s actually true. You let it get under your skin, people start to think it’s true.”
“But it’s not!” Garvey said. He hated to feel his throat getting scratchy, as it always did when he was about to cry. “It’s not true! I’m not like that!”
Cleon’s face was unreadable. “If you’re not, then you need to be less angry when people say things like that.”
“Why do you care?” Garvey bit back.
Cleon looked taken aback. “Because you’re my friend.”
“Could’ve fooled me, given how much time you’ve been spending with the Lump.”
“Is that what this is about?” Cleon sounded angry. “It’s not like you were ever my only friend. You never cared who I was spending time with before.”
“Before you didn’t—you still,” Garvey didn’t want to say the next part, he didn’t feel like he could. But in the past three years, he’d gotten better at forcing his body to do things his mind didn’t want to. “We still saw each other. Now we don’t. Now you spend all your time with Kel. I’m not dumb Cleon, I know what that means.”
“You think Kel and I…? Are you jealous?”
“No!” But Garvey was jealous and he’d been jealous for awhile. Not that he’d give Cleon the satisfaction of admitting it.
The two boys, young men now, sat in a frigid silence. Another person would have apologized, told Cleon how much he missed him, how much he’d grown to care for him. But Garvey wasn’t that type of person.
“Whatever we had,” Cleon said. “I mean, you know it was just kid stuff? Nothing ser—”
“I know,” Garvey cut him off. “Are we done?”
“I guess so,” Cleon said brusquely and stood up. He walked over to the door, but turned back before he opened it.
“Just be careful Garvey.”
Then he was gone. And if Garvey shed a few tears over him, no one had to know about it.