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[closed: under a wisteria arch]
Sep. 4th, 2024 10:08 amIt would be insane to be having second thoughts now. But Claudius is insane, like all the other men in his family, and likely most of the women, too. He has been waiting with growing impatience to call Galahad his husband. He has planned the ceremony down to its exact timing, knowing when the sun will set, when the the meteor showers will start, and when he'll look into Galahad's eyes and start the evening's first dance. Standing under the wisteria arch, surveying the noon-day sky, the weather looks as though it (or the spirits who control it) will be agreeable for hours. Tress and Laertes have already started the morning's baking, and there's no reason to think it won't be ready on time. The bouquets on every table are all elaborate yet tasteful, the boutonnieres and flower crowns arrayed and ready. Of course they are. He's his own florist. And the wedding suit is gorgeous, with all the layered androgyny he could ask for, all the twisting white-on-white patterns of vines and floral motifs he discussed with Kade.
He planned this all a little too well. There are no problems, no last-minute emergencies, no looming crises in need of immediate resolution. With no problems to solve, he's left with his thoughts, and his thoughts are unpleasant company. The well-read and practical part of him says, This is trauma. Whether you like it or not, you're still the trembling soldier who didn't want to kill, which is why you resort to indirect methods. A drop of poison in the ear, knowing how painful it would be when his blood curdled later. Appointing someone your champion, persuading them and pointing them in the direction of an enemy, then standing back in reserve hoping you'll never have to spill blood yourself. His hands are shaking, like they did during war.
What if this is a mistake? Not for you, but for Galahad? What if the worst version of yourself is all that you'll ever be, and while he spends every year becoming better, braver, with more friends and admirers who see him for his virtues, you'll stay exactly as pathetic as you are? Once the thoughts start tumbling in, they're impossible to stop. He even upbraids himself for that. Control yourself, Claudius. But he can't control his hands.
He planned this all a little too well. There are no problems, no last-minute emergencies, no looming crises in need of immediate resolution. With no problems to solve, he's left with his thoughts, and his thoughts are unpleasant company. The well-read and practical part of him says, This is trauma. Whether you like it or not, you're still the trembling soldier who didn't want to kill, which is why you resort to indirect methods. A drop of poison in the ear, knowing how painful it would be when his blood curdled later. Appointing someone your champion, persuading them and pointing them in the direction of an enemy, then standing back in reserve hoping you'll never have to spill blood yourself. His hands are shaking, like they did during war.
What if this is a mistake? Not for you, but for Galahad? What if the worst version of yourself is all that you'll ever be, and while he spends every year becoming better, braver, with more friends and admirers who see him for his virtues, you'll stay exactly as pathetic as you are? Once the thoughts start tumbling in, they're impossible to stop. He even upbraids himself for that. Control yourself, Claudius. But he can't control his hands.
