Author's Notes: (sequel to this fic - not really required to understand, but it'll explain why they are where they are :P) ngl I love these two, possibly more than Nataraja and Pasupata even *___* Don't even know why! They were just that married~ |
If pressed for his highly-regarded opinion on his role as ruler of his kingdom, Vishnu firmly believed he would have had really no difficulty in casting aside any modesty and congratulating himself on a job well done, relating his many accomplishments: fairer parceling of arable lands among the people, new trade agreements with peoples far and wide beyond the borders of his lands which would encourage a strong market, opportunities for the less-than-honorable caught thieving or other such petty crime to repay their debts through labor rather than physical punishment or incarceration--these were only a few of the many notches he'd stitched into his metaphorical belt over the years. Since inheriting the throne from his and Shiva's well-respected but ill-of-health father, Brahma-sama, nearly ten years before, Vishnu strongly believed that he had finally come into his own as a ruler in recent years. He had a well-versed staff of generals and advisors at his beck and call, the country had enjoyed nothing but peaceful freedom for as far back as anyone could recall, and in truth, little sprang to mind that Vishnu thought capable of disrupting such a balance. Little, at least, outside of the castle walls. Forgetting for a moment (which was difficult, given the doom that had stared down his friends and family) the events of the Durga Puja festival only weeks before, things had...certainly changed, becoming far more unbalanced that Vishnu was comfortable admitting. Instead of being seated atop his throne or in his chambers surrounded by men of status and pomp, here he was laid up in bed, as incapable of moving as the old, half-bent crones that begged on the street corners of the less affluent areas of the city. And in his place sat Shiva, his younger brother, whose daily squawking and complaining was testament enough to the fact that neither were satisfied with this turn of events. He most certainly did not begrudge Shiva his position as ruler pro tempore, as he knew Shiva to have no love for the throne and no wits to be bribed (but just in case, he relied on Nataraja and Pasupata to keep him sharp). After all--why should Shiva? He enjoyed all of the benefits of being royalty with none of the responsibility; reflecting on this, Vishnu was surprised he wasn't more relieved to have this bit of respite from the rigors of ruling. But he did, he missed it. Entertaining fellow royals from afar, hosting lavish parties, drawing meetings to discuss some new, hare-brained idea that was bound to pan out and prove prosperous (because he had some damn good ideas, mind you)--he truly did miss it. As it was, laid up in his room during most of his waking hours with little entertainment beyond the occasional chat with an adviser or meal or sometimes an hour of poetry or fiction, when he managed to catch Parvati between his errands scrambling about the palace. ...Yes, actually, that went a great ways towards making his presently bedridden life endurable, and would admittedly likely be the one aspect he would miss when he recovered full mobility: Parvati. He would miss Parvati's decidedly unwelcome morning visits (no matter the time of day, it was simply cruel to wake someone by spilling bright sunlight into the room directly into their eyes, and he should be grateful Vishnu hadn't called for a new servant then and there), and his entertaining afternoon chats over a plate of fruit with some dusty, ancient tome of fairy tales dug out of the palace library. He would even miss the way Parvati fussed over him to an oftentimes annoying extent, chiding him for moving about too much, for taking too lengthy walks in the gardens, for overexerting himself with duties Vishnu simply could not leave up to Shiva. He was determined not to miss, however, the way the candles flickering at night bounced shafts of light around the room, illuminating the soft curves of Parvati's face as he leaned in close to snuff them out with a quick breath, nor the line his body made as he reach up to draw the curtains closed at the end of the day with a soft noise of self-contentment when he managed to successfully tie the cords the way the maids had taught him, nor the way his lips curved in grudging amusement any time he offered Vishnu reproach over some tiny annoyance such as indulging in one samosa too many at dinner or falling asleep without properly dressing for bed and drawing the covers. He would not miss any of these things, because--he was simply determined to never have to miss them. For he could never lose them if he never lost Parvati, and he could never lose Parvati if Parvati chose to stay with him. If Parvati chose to stay with him. The cheek beneath his palm was soft and smooth, beardless despite its owner's age of twenty-some odd years. Vishnu rubbed a thumb lightly over the line of the cheekbone, down the jawline to the chin where, if he put forth just the tiniest bit of pressure, the lips would part and Parvati's breath would fly softly over the pillow their heads were currently sharing. "Parvati," Vishnu began, not quite a whisper, but not quite a committed call. It was morning, and late enough that most of the castle was awake and had been so for hours, but apparently too early for manservants who'd been guilted into keeping their charges company the previous evening to be up and about. Vishnu took full responsibility, understand; Parvati was used to a strict schedule that Vishnu considered it a great honor to tear to shreds at every given opportunity. "Parvati," he tried again, a bit more forcefully, running his thumb over a cheekbone again, and was pleased to see Parvati's lids fluttering as he was dragged into the land of the waking with a soft, muffled groan. His brows knit in annoyance, as he no doubt had forgotten where he'd fallen asleep the previous evening and simply thought Vishnu one of the other servants sent to rouse him. When he turned his head to the other side and moved to roll and face his back to Vishnu, the man, grabbed one shoulder to stop him with a throaty chuckle. "Parvati, wake up." Still frowning and on his back now, Parvati's eyes flickered open just a crack as he processed his surroundings. "Vishnu...sama?" A beat, and his eyes widened as everything came back to him and he struggled to sit up. "Vishnu-sama--I--" He nearly quite literally bit his tongue as Vishnu looked on in amusement, long fingers wrapped snugly around Parvati's wrist; he had to be entertaining quite the stream of expletives in his mind right now, surely. It was quite uncomfortable, lying on his side as he was and rubbing the bandages against his raw skin, but he clamped down on the pain for the time being; this was far more entertaining than his wounds were discomforting. "Calm, Parvati." Parvati twisted around, sitting crosslegged now and hastily tucking his hair behind his ears with his free hand, not realizing apparently the death grip his fingers had on Vishnu's own at the moment, laced between them and holding on for dear life. "Forgive me, I--I didn't realize the time, and I usually have one of the kitchen staff wake me and--this just--" He took a breath, closing his eyes. "It won't happen again." Vishnu cocked his head to the side, fighting a small smile. "What won't?" Parvati's eyes opened again, and he finally looked Vishnu in the eye rather than avert his gaze as was more fitting. Vishnu squeezed his hand, a reminder, and he swallowed hard. "This won't..." "This, what?" Parvati's voice grew monotone, as if operating without conscious thought. "I'll...make sure the...the servants wake me..." "Well that might prove an issue, if you're sleeping here, don't you think?" Parvati blinked at this, and all his faculties seemed to return at once on the heels of a flush that colored his cheeks. He drew his knees to his chest and held one hand to his own cheek in horror. "I--that's--" At Vishnu's knowing brow-raise, he collected himself. "That's not appropriate." "This conversation's sounding awfully familiar." "Vishnu-sama," and there was that hint of amusement playing at the edge of his lips that Vishnu loved so. Parvati's expression softened, and he flicked his gaze down to Vishnu's midsection, frowning. "We'll...discuss this later--why are you lying like that?" His voice rose in tone, and he reach his free hand forward to gently tug up the fabric. Vishnu rolled over onto his back dutifully, now regretting the posture and knowing Parvati's chiding would make him regret it even more. True to form, the knit brows and tutting that followed were far less enjoyable a sound than the earlier frantics. "Are you in much pain?" "Of course not," Vishnu lied, but sweat was already beading on his forehead, and Parvati reached a tentative hand out to brush the drops away, cupping the man's cheek for a moment before he recalled himself. He tugged away the hand Vishnu still held, unlacing their fingers and folding it to his chest protectively. "I'll go and fetch fresh bandages from the wash room," he started, shaking his head, but before he could slide from the bed, Vishnu twisted around with great effort to pin down his shoulders, flopping back onto his stomach with one arm over Parvati, bracing him against the bed. Parvati did not appear too impressed with the show of strength, lying on his back limp as a rag doll with his arms spread out and a frown firm on his face. "Vishnu-sama, honestly. You'll tear your stitches with such exertion..." Vishnu simply chuckled darkly into his pillow, a deep throaty laugh, and turned his head to the side to more fully face Parvati. They stared, room silent, for several beats, until Vishnu could bear the silence no longer and wriggled his body even closer; what did it matter if he tore his stitches? A few more weeks under Parvati's care were bearable. Parvati opened his mouth to protest, but his breath caught in his throat when Vishnu reached a hand foward to cup Parvati's chin, fingers running light trails down his jawline. "...You're absolutely beautiful, did you know that, Parvati?" The blush he was met with in response said he was in fact not aware of this, and Vishnu elaborated. "Aesthetically so, of course, but...spiritually so as well. You spoil me." While he knew Parvati would never say it aloud, he could almost hear him thinking, 'Yes, you are spoiled.' Parvati closed his eyes for a moment, breathing speeding up when Vishnu's fingers dragged along the line of his jugular, raising goosebumps, and then he opened them again, gaze bright and teasing. "I'll bet you say that to all of your manservants." Vishnu chuckled knowingly. It was always more fun when Parvati let loose and played. He was a king who enjoyed games, in any context, after all. "Just the ones I let share my bed." Parvati's expression dropped into one of shock and embarrassment, and Vishnu's chest seized with desperation to correct himself, "--I mean, not that I typically let me manservants sleep with--and, not that sort of 'sleeping with' or 'sharing my bed' and gods--please don't misunderstand, I only meant--just. I'm sorry." He pursed his lips, wishing to bite off his tongue. He rarely got flustered, which was a good thing--for if his people saw how he behaved when he didn't know how to behave, they'd likely clamor for someone with a cooler head--like Shiva--to take over the throne. "I apologize, I didn't mean--" he began again, a bit more calmly, but Parvati had turned his face into the pillow and was snorting, shoulders heaving with repressed laughter. Relief flooded Vishnu's face, and he laced his fingers in Parvati's again. "Now, you don't have to laugh at me--it was simply a misworded comment..." Parvati pulled back, laughter spilling from a toothy smile as he shook his head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry--it's only, your face when you realized what you'd said..." Vishnu colored, but vowed to take it in stride. "Yes, well. Sometimes I speak without thinking." Parvati's laughter calmed into a soft, easy smile, and he raised one brow. "Only sometimes?" "Only sometimes," Vishnu repeated. "I find I typically must give great thought to my words when I speak to you." "Mmm, and why would that be?" He cocked his head to the side, cradling it in the palm of one hand as he stretched out, letting himself grow comfortable beneath the lavish trappings of the royal bed. "Do I disorient you?" "I lose my head with you, rather." Parvati giggled to himself. "Is that a nice way of saying I drive you mad?" Ignoring the pain, Vishnu rolled onto his side, mirroring Parvati's posture with his head cradled in the palm of one hand while the other stroked at Parvati's pulse point beneath his thumb with a mesmerizing rhythm. "Yes. In so many ways." Parvati averted his gaze, feeling like he had as a child, hiding his blush from the shrine maidens when they favored him with a treat when he went to pay his respects with his father. He shook his head, laughing nervously, then looked up again, bottom lip between his teeth. "...I...should change those bandages." Now it was Vishnu who looked away. "Only--it must be nearly noon, now. You've got a busy day, I'm sure, and this is all my fault anyways..." He cleared his throat and shifted up into a sitting position, letting Vishnu's hand fall away as he placed his hands in his lap, prim and proper. "I'll just...go and fetch the dressing materials." "Ah." Vishnu's response was terse, but not harsh, and he glanced back over curiously. "From the wash room." Bracing his arms on the bed and leaning forward only slightly, Parvati nodded. "I'll...only be a moment." "Right." But neither moved an inch, simply staring and waiting for something that obviously wasn't happening, because they were still here waiting, and somewhere in the back of Parvati's mind was a nagging voice reminding him that a king was only granted privacy at night--and even then, sparingly--and someone somewhere in the castle would be needing Vishnu-sama's counsel in only moments, likely, and there would be nothing more to do until that evening and Parvati absolutely did not want that, not at all. He darted forward, quick as a wink, ducking his head to sink to Vishnu's eye level, and placed a soft, dry barely-kiss at the corner of his mouth, pulling back as swiftly as he'd made his move and fighting a self-satisfied smile at having been so daring. Vishnu seemed to share his disbelief, face frozen save for a small twitch of his lips at the corner where he'd just been kissed. Parvati ducked his head, in apology, finally indulging and allowing the grin to spread across his face, and he shifted his weight to slide off the bed--but was stopped when Vishnu grabbed his wrist again. "Don't think you're getting off that--" *BAM BAM BAM* "Anikiiiiii~!" came Shiva's shrill cry from the hall separating Vishnu's wing from the rest of the castle, the echo of his rapping against the thick wooden door drifting through the chambers, and Vishnu immediately released Parvati's wrist, flopping back onto his back with a pained groan. His body ached now--and not in a good way--and in only mere moments he foresaw a headache settling across his temples as well. What a perfect start to the morning... Beside him, Parvati slipped lightly off the side of the tall bed, gasping as the cool stone floor met his his bare feet, and threw a glance over his shoulder before padding off to the wash room to freshen up and re-dress Vishnu's wounds. "If it makes a difference..." He started, and paused when Vishnu lifted his head to see him, brows raised in question. "...You make me lose my head a bit as well." And with that, he was lost into the wash room--which was just as well, for Shiva had finally manhandled one of the guards into opening the door and was stalking into the room, still calling his name as if he didn't know very well that Vishnu was in bed, where had had been for the past number of weeks. Yes, it was definitely a perfect start to the morning. |
<<< || >>>