@playingwithroles-archive / playingwithroles-archive.tumblr.com
"You make me feel safe."
Clifford makes a sound then: a lover’s sigh, a child’s laugh, and a mourner’s cry all rolled into one. “I hope to honour that as long as you live,” he declared, “warrior of known if only in name.” A fond smile passes along his lips as he brushes the dark, sweat-damp curls away from Lewis’ eyes. “You must rest now, battle the sickness that threatens to overtake you. I will still be within the walls of your home when you wake.”
™ Lewis and/or Furfur for Clifford
Send ™ to hear what my muse thinks of yours
Lewis
“My darling dearest, where would I be without him! He’s a gentle man, patient and kind and brilliant and lovely and puts up with so much - mostly me, ha ha, and our fosters, he’s wonderful with them, of course! Sometimes I watch him with them and wonder what he’d be like with children of our own. Not that I’d ever bring it up, of course! I’m happy with our foster pets, I could never be a parent proper, it’d be too much to ask of him...
“Oh look at me, derailing! This is supposed to be about Lewis, not me. He’s an incredible person, did I mention he’s an artist? And that he has two brothers and parents he’s still close to? He works so hard to be where he is now, even though he may insist otherwise, he does! I have to remind him to take a break now and then, bless. And he has so many amazing ideas! I hope I can help him realize all of them...”
His former sense of gruffness had melted away. Now that there was no longer any potential threat, his demeanor was one of reserved, almost sheepish politeness. “Lewis,” he introduced himself, answering the other’s unspoken inquiry. It hadn’t occurred to him before to ask the stranger’s name – he never tended to work with others for very long, after all.
But something struck him as different about this person. Perhaps that was why he had led him back to his cottage. It occurred to him, belatedly, that the rest of his squadron might be looking for him…but then again, if that were the case, Lewis wouldn’t have had to rescue him from overzealous bandits. “And, uh…what’s your name?” he found the gumption to ask, as he led his new guest up the front steps of the cottage.
Clifford followed the man - Lewis - to the front porch. Then paused, one foot on the bottom step, one on the ground. He removed his helmet and shook out his ash-blond hair, better revealing his face: large and round, but otherwise human-looking, vivid green eyes; aquiline nose and prominent cheeks freckled with silver and gold that simultaneously complemented and stood out against his skin; small ears tipped with a slight point; full lips, small chin, and rounded jaw. Hardly anything too noteworthy, he thought, yet he knew people like him weren’t exactly common, either.
“Clifford,” he said with an earnest smile; he removed the reinforced glove on his right hand, uncovering more star-like freckles along his arm, and extended it to shake Lewis’s hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance proper, Lewis.”
As they approached his home, Lewis already began to let himself relax. It was out of the way, secluded, and he’d had a trustworthy wizard enchant it with wards to protect and hide it from the Queen’s forces.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief as they got close enough to the cottage. Reaching up over his shoulder, he removed his axe from where it hung on his back, bringing it down hard onto a nearby tree stump and leaving it there. A sign that this was a place where there was no need for weapons to protect oneself.
Once he reached the edge of the cabin’s front porch, he finally paused, and glanced back over at the stranger. “It’s safe here,” he told him, and there was a sincerity in his voice he hadn’t shown since they had initially met. “Do you, uh…want to come in?”
And pleasantly deceived he’d been: the closer he got to the cabin, the clearer the air became, and upon taking one particular step, Clifford heard a soft, melodic chime despite there being nothing around that would produce such sound. Someone with goodness in their heart and soul had made an impression upon the place. Noting how the man had set aside his axe, Clifford let himself relax. It was a safe place.
“Oh!” He couldn’t help being surprised by the invite: he hadn’t been the most pleasant to the man who’d saved him, and had that been a gentle note in his voice? “I mean, I suppose I could take a moment to rest, yes, thank you...?” It dawned on him that he didn’t know the man’s name.
“Evil creatures?” Lewis echoed. His tone was even despite his confusion, and he tried not to scoff. “First I’ve heard of it.” He had a feeling he would have noticed by now if such beasts had come down on the kingdom. Thankfully, they were approaching the cabin he had made his lodgings; and he could put off having to burst the stranger’s bubble a little longer.
“Really,” Clifford said, dubious. Stench aside, there’d been something wrong about the men the barbarian had senselessly sla-- disposed of. If it weren’t evil creatures, then what?
Speaking of the smell, it was blessedly dispersing, and seemed to coincide with the appearance of a log cabin amid a small clearing. It looked to be in a similar state as its presumed sole occupant. Yet looks could be deceiving, Clifford hastily and guiltily reminded himself.
Lewis glanced over his shoulder at the other again, raising a brow – though he himself wasn’t sure if the gesture was curious or incredulous. A call for aid? he wondered to himself. He wasn’t sure what tribe or subset of the villages could have been so foolish as to issue such a call, lest their show of rebellion be snuffed out by the Queen’s forces swiftly and without mercy.
“S’not safe,” he muttered, stalwartly continuing down his path. Then, despite himself, he lifted his voice slightly for the stranger to hear him better. “Outsiders don’t tend to last long around here.” A thought crossed his mind, and he glanced over at the armored blonde once again. “How much do you know about this place…the kingdom?”
“I got that impression,” Clifford retorted despite the unnerving look on the wild man’s face. Being stared at as though he were a fool was something to which he didn’t take kindly. Thankfully it was short-lived. And the second glance was much less patronizing. As for what he knew: “The kingdom’s lands have been besieged by evil creatures sent down from the north.”
Lewis lead the way through the underbrush, his heavy, booted feet carving an easy path despite the overgrowth around them. He glanced over his shoulder as he walked, making sure that the other was following him – taking a moment to note his attire as he did so. He didn’t recognize the style of gear.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” he wondered aloud as they walked. Even as he spoke, Lewis was acutely aware of their surroundings. He was keeping an eye out for any other potential threats that might appear at any moment.
He need not have worried about being caught unaware. Not with his current guide stomping through the underbrush with all the subtlety of a giant. Made his own armored movement seem roguish in comparison. (Granted, his armor was designed lighter than most of his squadron, who weren’t capable of aerial combat, for added manoeuvrability.) Certainly anyone with their wits about them would steer clear.
“Certainly not,” Clifford said with a slight sniff, irked by the odour permeating the air. Thankfully, at least, it wasn’t coming from the barbaric-- ahh, a barbarian, that’s the word he had been looking for. “I was sent here across the valley in response to a call for aid from the kingdom.”
Lewis grunted an affirmative, taking a moment to wipe the blood from the blade of his axe while he still held it out of the blonde stranger’s line of sight. Once he was satisfied, he pulled himself back up to his full height, slinging his axe across his back once again as he gave the other a onceover.
“They would have killed you,” he informed him simply, before nodding for him to follow where he lead. “Now come on, it’s not safe here.”
Dumbfounded, Clifford could only nod and subsequently follow the rugged man who’d just slaughtered a trio of men without a second thought. He tried to keep alert as he did, yet there was something just along the edges making it surprisingly difficult to do so. What sort of place was this? Appeared no different than any other wooded outskirts of a thriving town, and yet...
He shuddered, resisting the urge to cover his nose to quell the noxious stench. Something was wrong about this place. And perhaps its people, too. Squaring his shoulders, Clifford stood tall as he walked, sword and shield at the ready. He would not be caught off-guard again.
"I don't know what to say."
Heart thundering in his chest, Clifford slowly lifted his head and cautiously glanced at Lewis’ face, resisting his aura. No anger, no dismay. A bit of disappointment, perhaps, although that could just be himself projecting - it was hard to tell.
“You’re not going to ye- give me grief for not honouring your wishes?” he ventured, trying to keep his posture upright despite how tired - and guilty - he still felt. “And lying to you about it?” After dropping Donnie off from the airport, Clifford had put a few kilometres between there and home before pulling over to call Lewis. In tears. Definitely not his proudest moment. Lewis had told him to wait until he got home so they could talk it over in person. That had been the longest fifteen-minute drive he’d ever driven.
Now he stood before Lewis, awaiting his verdict.
"Tell me why you stayed."
While Lewis’ voice was nothing but gentle, Clifford still felt like he was being quizzed on something he’d studied for but had forgotten all the right answers to. “To help,” he answered, heaving yet another sigh, exhausted. Were this not a phone call, he’d have his head on his beloved’s shoulder and be safe in his arms. But it was a phone call and Clifford had to rely on his own strength, that was being sapped from him bit by bit, to stay standing. “The staff, they... need the extra hands, tending the little things that get lost in the chaos.”
He pressed his back against the painted brick wall, pulling in another lungful of the recycled air of the hospital. At least he no longer choked on the frustration and despair suffusing the corridors when he’d first stepped inside three days ago. Clifford wasn’t doing anywhere near the amount of work the mere handful hospital staff were yet he’d been running himself ragged to ensure their daily tasks weren’t so daunting. It took a startling amount of energy just to boost morale alone. “But that doesn’t answer my question: do you want me to see to your brother or not?”
"I'm warning you."
Clifford lowered his arms to his sides and tried not to look hurt. He had no rational reason to be hurt, alongside having known from the start Gordon wouldn’t be keen on it, yet the rejection stung nevertheless. He just wanted to help. “Right, well. Leave you to it, then.”
“If it makes you happy, I’ll notify their family.”
That glint of madness. It was back.
Clifford’s grip on Lewis’ arm tightened considerably. “Never mind me,” he said; the steadiness of his voice contrasted starkly with how he felt. “That’ll just put you at unnecessary risk of exposure. You can’t talk to anyone about this until we’ve seen a lawyer.”
“Don’t be ridiculous; you just ran a red light so that makes you just as guilty.”
Though most of his attention was focussed on driving, Clifford heard the slight crack of hysteria in Lewis’ voice. The tension in the car threatened to suffocate him. Nevertheless, he took a deep, steadying breath.
“I had no choice,” he said, choosing his words deliberately, flipping the turning signal to switch lanes so the impatient driver behind them could roar past. He had the make, model, colour, and plates memorized, should he need to call in the speed demon. “It was either let them slam into us, which would cause an accident in the middle of an intersection, or let them pass, which might cause an accident. It’s the lesser of the two evils.”
Clifford: "Local androgynous individual so beautiful bystanders are moved to tears"
“A blessing and a curse in one, I assure you.” *dramatic sigh*
“Okay,” Lewis said, taking a deep breath as his mind started reeling once again. Where to even start?
“I was at work,” he began. “It was super slow. So I was meandering up and down the aisles of the store, trying to look busy. And I was in the crafts section, rearranging some copic pens, and then from the next aisle over I heard these two guys talking. They were saying some…truly heinous shit, about people like you; like us. It turned my stomach.”
He stopped briefly, keeping himself together. “They started talking about…places that they were going to ‘hit.’” He paused for the briefest moment, meeting Clifford’s eyes. “Clifford…I heard them say our address.”
Clifford listened, nodding where appropriate. Did his best to keep his mind firmly on the story and not the aftermath. The man had been part of a planned hate crime? He paused when Lewis did and their eyes met. Fear squeezed his heart: the strangers had known where they’d lived.
He took a deep breath. “Go on.”
Lewis took Clifford’s offered arm, allowing him to help him back onto his feet; doing his best to steady himself while not leaning on Clifford too much. Even then, he held Clifford’s gaze as long as the moment would allow. “You’re right,” he admitted with a nod. “You’re absolutely right. I just…you don’t think any less of me? For what I’ve done?”
Clifford held Lewis’ gaze. “Of course not.” Then glanced away to instead focus on returning to the scene of the... Where the dead attacker was. It had been an attack. Right? He didn’t know. He hadn’t asked; Lewis had been in shock and all he’d been able to think about was making sure he was okay.
Now, though, kneeling beside the body, he became acutely aware of two things: the death had been caused by repeated blows with a blunt object of some kind and the man had died terrified. Clifford shuddered. What had happened? Part of him didn’t want to ever know. But would he be able to go about his life not knowing the truth? Maybe. Would his conscience ever let him? Absolutely not.
Steeling his nerves, Clifford looked at Lewis, heart heavy, and murmured, “Tell me what happened, from your perspective.”
Lewis found himself laughing. Was he really that detached, already? It was possible he was still in shock. He wasn’t sure anymore. But something about the way Clifford had said that, how casually he spoke, was amusing in a morbid sort of way. “I have to say,” he mused. “You’re taking all this…rather well. Certainly better than I would have expected.”
Clifford allowed himself a grin, pleased with himself. “Got a laugh outta you, didn’t I?” he pointed out, offering his hand and arm for whenever Lewis was ready to get up off the stool. Then his smile faded into an earnest expression. “I am trying. Panicking over something that cannot be undone helps no one. I need to- ah, we need to figure out what we can do with what we have and go from there.”
