Future For You
So this isn't my typical cup of tea or even my normal fandom, but I ended up getting a writing commission for it all the same. The prompt was fairly broad and little more than "Laslow x Xander" to which, of course, my brain immediately decided to make a low-key tragedy post-canon fic.
This will only be one chapter despite all the implied circumstances, but I do hope you enjoy.
It was only a day after Xander had been coronated that he found Laslow lounging on the oversized bed in the new king's bedroom. A bag over his shoulder, a traveler's cloak wrapped snugly around his body- it was painfully obvious what was happening.
Xander was neither surprised nor angry, for a part of him had always known that this would one day come to pass. The only thing he hadn't expected was for his retainer to wait for him instead of simply vanishing as suddenly as he had appeared.
"So, you really do plan to leave then?"
Laslow smiled, as soft as the pile of ornate pillows he had lazily propped himself on. A shrug, and he patted the free space next to him, "Come, join me for one last talk."
Xander sat on the edge of the bed but did nothing more lest he wrinkle his new king's robes. Laslow sighed with disappointment, but let himself sink deeper into the softness of the bed, eyes distant as he began, "I figured I would enjoy a soft bed one last time, since there won't even be bedrolls on the road, you know?"
"You don't plan to bring at least something?"
A shrug, "A cloak for my blanket and my bag for my pillow is all I need. Besides, it's pleasant this time of year, and I'm used to traveling light. But that is not what you really want to ask, is it?"
Xander sighed at the inane topic, but he won't let himself be distracted, "I know your reasons are your own, and I won't stop you, but can you at least tell me why? You will always have a place by my side, as both my retainer and my dear friend."
It may just be his imagination, but Laslow seemed to wince at that. His voice was as light and airy as ever, however, even if he refused to look at the blond man, "Ah yes, and that is the very reason I must leave. You are king now, Xander. And a king has duties to his country first and foremost, and so, you must soon find a wife."
"A wife is what you're worried about?" Xander asked, incredulous, "You and I both know your womanizing ways are not nearly as bad as you pretend them to be, and I trust you would never do anything unjust to my wife."
The laugh was harsh and bitter, not at all fitting the peaceful look on the retainer's face, "Considering that it is likely that you'll marry a princess, if not the queen herself, of Hoshido to further promote peaceful relations, I wouldn't even entertain the thought."
Xander stilled, once again left wondering just who Laslow really was. Talks of marriage between the two kingdoms hadn't even been brought up yet, but it wasn't unlikely. Hoshido was crippled from the war and would need Nohr's continued support to avoid being swallowed up by its neighbors in the coming years. Combine that with the desire to keep the power within both royal bloodlines strong, and marriage would almost surely occur one day.
Xander himself hadn't given the idea much thought, and yet Laslow had already reached that conclusion. But still… "So what is it that you're worried about, Laslow?"
"You are a king, and a king has responsibilities to his country," Laslow repeated emotionlessly, as if it were a mantra he had memorized. He easily slid off the far side of the bed and stood, slowly walking around it and back to Xander's side as he spoke, "One of the greatest responsibilities is to keep their country stable during trying times. Nohr isn't exactly in the best of shape itself after this war, so you must become a pillar of support. You cannot even entertain radical or selfish ideas, not when you have a once-traitor dear sister who you must protect from the consequences of her own actions." Brown eyes glanced down at where Xander still sat, and the king felt oddly small. Once again, Laslow had easily deduced the issues and choices Xander would face, as though the political game was nothing new to him, "I bet there are plenty of nobles who want her executed, never mind that her betrayal turned out for the best for us all."
"That's…"
Entirely true.
"Therefore, it's best that I leave before my desire gets the best of me and creates even more trouble for you."
"Desire? What are you talking about Laslow?"
"Honestly, Xander, I know you aren't this daft. Or maybe you decided to ignore me, in hopes that I would move on?" The gray-haired man carelessly interrupted, staring down at Xander with strange, intense, eyes. They openly sized up the king, glancing up and down his body with such heat that left the blond speechless, "Well, I tried to be as fickle as everyone makes me out to be, but it just won't work. In fact, I can't stand it anymore at all."
Without any more warning, Laslow roughly grabbed Xander by the chin and pulled. Xander had just enough time to see his retainer's eyes getting bigger, filled with a foreign determination usually reserved for the battlefield, brown-grey like earth that wasn't quite dark enough to mask the strange-
It was soft and warm and, embarrassingly, Xander only realized that he and Laslow have kissed after the other has pulled away. Only a feather-light echo of it remained, gone before he could even understand. He can only stare, shocked as Laslow walked to the door like he hadn't just shattered Xander's entire understanding of their relationship. This will be the last time Xander will ever see his retainer, he knows it, but for the life of him, the only thing the king can force himself to do is to stand and, futilely, call after him.
"Laslow!"
The man, somehow, stops with one foot already out the door. Their gazes meet, and nothing strange or magical happens. No connection is felt, time doesn't seem to slow, but, even if Xander felt hopelessly lost, Laslow seemed to find meaning in that moment.
He smiled, one last time.
"My name is actually Inigo, my king."
The door closed.
