Copyright: Suikoden belongs to Konami
Authors Note: Yes, I know, I suck. I had a lot of mental health stuff happen and then there was college…ugh…anyway, forgive me if my writing as suffered from the long bout of laziness and depression though. Anyways, someone way back when wanted to see them go out on patrol together, so I managed to work it in.
"Hey, who's that in there laughin' at ya?" Lawrence inquired, tilting his head to see past Snowe, toward the source of the clamor. His collar, and indeed, even his beet red cheeks were no longer the pinnacle of the gruffly man's curiosity. "Didja finally bag yer'self a nice lass, eh, buddy? Let mah se—"
The ex-pirate didn't get a chance to finish before the door was slammed and locked shut in his face. Snowe, frankly, didn't have time to think of a better solution. And he sure didn't want to spend the day's entire patrol explaining away why the hero of the Island Nations was there half-naked; giggling like a lunatic on his floor, on top of what he was doing wearing this.
"Give me five minutes, Lawrence! I have to get ready. Wait outside," Snowe shouted, as if Lawrence actually had a choice in the matter. Something along the lines of "that's just rude" could be made out from beyond the door, but the flustered young man chose to ignore it, instead moving away from the entrance over to his dresser. Still unnerved, with shaking hands, he tired unsuccessfully to remove the blasted accessory.
Snowe suddenly felt fingers grasping his shoulders. He jerked briefly prior to realizing Lazlo must have managed to breathe in enough oxygen to get off the ground. "Here, heh, let me, haha…help you with that."
"Oh, it's that funny, is it?" Snowe weakly sighed.
Lazlo made quick work of the buckle and let it fall forward, into Snowe's hands as he spoke, "Yeah. It kind of was." Snowe shook his head in disagreement, but in the end he liberated a puny smile, letting the matter slide.
'I guess it was pretty amusing…if you weren't me.'
"Where's my gear? I need to get ready too."
Snowe pointed to a clothes hanger near his bed, "I hung it up over—wait why are you getting ready?" Snowe raised an eyebrow. 'Wait, is he planning on…'
"Well, because I'm coming with you guys, of course," Lazlo answered with a sly grin.
'This could be fun…and I was invited…and thanks to that dolt outside, I have nothing better to do.'
"L-lazlo, are you sure? I mean, it's going to be pretty boring. The alleys are not like the old days. There really is just fuzzballs, and that's on a good day."
"On the contrary, I think it'll be interesting: not as interesting as things would have been if we weren't so rudely interrupted, mind you, but still, I see opportunity for… entertainment," Lazlo chuckled while reattaching his armor plate. He had to admit he wasn't the least bit happy about the disruption, but spending the day watching Snowe's routine and interaction with that drunken pal of his could prove to be enlightening.
"You're not still smashed…are you?" Snowe asked, half-jokingly, half-apprehensively.
This was truthfully his first time experiencing Lazlo being overtly aggravated about not getting his way since he always did, and as fascinating and cute as it was; it was also a bit scary too.
'Oh great…what is he planning? It's not like it's my fault! Well, I guess I did forget about duty, but it wasn't like I knew ahead of time that I'd be getting the chance to bed Lazlo. If I did, I would have made proper arrangements…'
"Heh, nope. I'm just going to make the best of the situation, that's all," he paused watching Snowe run his hand across the endless collection of outfits, and thankfully unknowing of the inane thoughts Snowe was letting drift to the scented candles he could have bought, which were eventually just overlapped with visions of Lazlo grinning evilly, dandling that damned collar around. The younger man changed subjects, "Want me to pick one out for you, just like old times?"
"W-what…oh, um, I think I know which one you are going to pick so the answer is no."
Lazlo held back a snicker and finished sliding on his gloves. Snowe grabbed the nearest shirt he could find, which was remarkably plain, and thus more ideal for running around, killing filthy vermin in then one of his many tempting, flashy alternatives. He could feel Lazlo's eyes burning through his back as he discarded the old and slipped on the clean top.
The sexual tension could be cut with a knife, a boomerang effect from leaving things so abruptly in progress, no doubt.
'Lazlo, you'll just have to get over—'
"SNOWE, HURRY THE HECK UP!"
Both men flinched and nodded at each other, wordlessly signaling they were ready to head out. Snowe grabbed his sword, sheathing it to his belt and opened the door, with Lazlo following behind.
Lawrence was leaning against the railing, picking at a loose chip of paint. His eyes darted back and forth coming to rest on Lazlo. For a moment, he stood bewildered until he recalled yesterday, finally putting two and two together. He smirked.
"My, oh, my, Snowe, she sure isa' pretty one!"
"Lawrence, shut—Why, thank you, good sir," both Snowe and Lazlo, in that order, countered simultaneously. Snowe rolled his eyes as his two smartass companions cackled.
'Separated at birth, perhaps?'
As they moved down the stairs, Lazlo was sure to take a gander at the shop below. His suspicions were confirmed; it was a tailor shop, sporting its most alluring base fashions in front of its two large windows, for all to gawk at. The rune bearer knew they just had to be Snowe's, but how the whole arrangement worked, he did not know. Making a mental reminder, once again, to barrage the older man about it when they were alone, Lazlo went back to concentrating on where his two companions were heading.
He had a pretty good inking as to which alley they were probably going to patrol, but his headache hadn't quite dissipated yet, so he preferred to just follow and…of course, listen in on their idle chatter. In fact, those two had been ignoring him for the past couple of minutes entirely, granted, in all fairness, his thoughts were equally focused elsewhere.
Lazlo caught up, taking his place alongside Snowe. The other two were discussing dull topics; something about Lawrence's throwing daggers. 'Kind of an odd weapon choice for a drunk,' Lazlo mused.
'The guy must have some serious talent to aim those half-out of it….or maybe not. I guess I'll see for myself soon enough.'
They took notice of Lazlo right away and abandoned their discussion: Lawrence, in particular, for the rare opportunity of conversation more in-tune with his own interests, well, past interests anyway.
"So, Lazlo, from what little bits n' pieces of info I was able ta squeeze outta' Snowy, here, I understand you were the one who took em' down when he was a pirate. I betcha' that was one heck a sight ta see! He still refuses to tell me jack!"
"Oh, not this again, Lawrence…I told you already it was hardly a big de—"
"Heh, you are right on the coin there, Law, it really was quite a sight to behold," Lazlo gave a quick perverted wink in Snowe's direction, of which Lawrence took notice, surprisingly. The man wasn't exactly famous for looking for the meaning behind a meaning, but, hey, usually things weren't worth paying much attention too.
Snowe hurled back a look that radiated, "don't you dare go there, Lazlo."
"W-what Lazlo means is that I u-used all water rune cannons. It was all I could get my hands on, okay, and the result was beyond embarrassing. End of s-story."
And Lazlo completely ignored it. The hang-over, sexual frustration, or a mixture of both, could have been partly to blame, but the fact remained; Lazlo was feeling daring.
"Ha, forget that part! It was the outfit he wore that stole the show. I take it he has neglected to show it to you?"
"Lazlo!" Snowe shrieked, exasperated.
'Well, well, what do we got here? I reckon somethin fishy. Heh.'
"There's really an outfit?" Lawrence asked drilling for oil, eager to see the direction this little spat of theirs was heading in.
"Yeah, you remember that collar he was wearing this morning? It's the best part of it."
"Lazlo…y-you are so…"
'Oh, that collar…I'd forgotten about that...hey wait a sec…' Noticing the peculiarity, the ex-pirate took Lazlo's bait.
"Were ya guys playin dress up in there this morin, then?" he asked, lightheartedly.
"N-no," Snowe stuttered, caught completely on the spot.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, we were, but then you came along and interrupted us."
'…Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead…'
Lawrence's head darted to the left and then to the right, studying both of their faces. Lazlo was grinning wickedly, and Snowe had his hand pressed to his forehead, squeezing the skin there hard enough to turn it red. Ultimately, the elder male burst out laughing, unaware Lazlo's last statement had held some true annoyance. To the man's credit, it was impossible to tell.
"Bahahahahaha! Damn, yur a hoot and a holler, rune-boy! How come ya never told me he was such a jokester, Snowy?"
Snowe understood why Lazlo was peeved. Indeed, he too, would rather have been able to stay home, but it was no excuse for Lazlo to humiliate him for the sole sake of passive aggressively letting off some steam. It was down right disrespectful, and it sure in hell wasn't funny anymore.
"How could I tell you something I wasn't even aware of myself?" Snowe spat, his voice sharp and callous. It was then Lazlo realized he had exceeded Snowe's seemingly, never-ending patience.
Lazlo shot Snowe an apologetic glance, but all he got in return was a furious glare, one he knew all to well. It was that same glare Snowe wore in the past when he lost control, or to be precise, when Lazlo had taken it away, purposely or not. The only difference this time around was the rune-bearer deserved getting it.
'S-shit…I know that look...'
Edgy silence enveloped the three as they continued walking. Lawrence was baffled by the whole exchange and the quiet that followed, but he could tell neither boy was about to seize the privilege of cueing him on why Snowe was being so sensitive. After all, his question was what started the whole ordeal, a detail he didn't want Snowe remembering.
'Better Snowe be angry with him then me. Sides, I'm sure they'll work it out.'
Eventually they came up on the opening leading into the alleyway, the usual one connected to the harbor's main-street.
"Ah, here we are. Let's get started!" Lawrence exclaimed, trying to gain back even a little enthusiasm. I didn't work very well. Snowe and Lazlo just nodded, following Lawrence's lead down the passage, carefully scanning the area for disturbance.
"Over there," Lazlo said and pointed toward a pile of trash a sizeable group of Fuzzballs were clustered around.
"Aw, don't you just love it when people leave behind messes," Snowe declared sarcastically.
"Hey, don't knock it. Means more money in our pockets." Lawrence nailed one with a dagger, breaking up the group. The idiotic creatures charged forward, ignorant of how out-matched they were.
Lazlo went for the kill, effectively terminating two who came within range. Snowe, on the other hand, angrily charged forward, overzealously taking on several of the creatures, who quickly surrounded him. He swung at the ones to his front, injuring several, but it left him open to attack from behind, and before he knew it, numerous needle-like hairs stung his backside and he was propelled forward.
Just about when Snowe was going to become a full-fledged dart board, an intense flash of light illuminated the surrounding area, and when it dissipated corpses littered the ground.
Lawrence immediately ran to Snowe's side. Lazlo remained where he stood, regaining his posture waiting for the draining sensation to ebb away.
"What the heck, Snowe! Ya could've been seriously hurt trying that crap," Lawrence yelled while examining his friend's back, pulling out any barbs he could find. The wound was extremely minor, but even so, Snowe felt unbelievably foolish and ashamed, so very ashamed that he permitted himself to do something so reckless just because he was pissed at Lazlo. The smallest seed of doubt began to grow in his mind; had he really changed over the years, or was he still that same fulsome idiot he was back then, when Lazlo cleaned up all of his blunders, no matter the consequence to himself?
Snowe was interrupted from his thoughts when Lazlo approached, concern and remorse showing on his face, "Snowe, are you okay?"
Snowe stood up, facing Lazlo, thoroughly humiliated. Lawrence, realizing Snowe was fine, decided to let them have their moment and walked around to collect the dead pest's tails for proof of their kills.
"Y-yeah. It is nothing my water rune can't fix. I'm sorry you had to do that…I'm still such a fool." His gaze fell, but Lazlo lifted his chin back up, giving him an understanding look.
"Hey, don't worry abo—
"W-wait a sec, was that flash really the rune?" Interest roused, Lawerance broke away from his task.
"A mere fraction of its power, but yes," Lazlo replied plainly.
"Whoa, talk about useful! Haha, with something like that, we won't have to lift a finger anymore."
Lazlo grimaced, but said nothing. Fortunately, Snowe had him covered.
"Sorry to crush your fantasy of effortless booze, Lawrence, but he weakens when he uses it."
"O-oh, damn. Scratch that thought then," Lawrence paused for a second, scratching his head nervously. He saw Lazlo and Snowe trying to communicate through body language. He took the hint and deduced they needed some time to clear the air alone. "Why don't ya go on and heal that. I'll turn in all these tails and meet you at the end with the earnings."
Lazlo immediately took over plucking the needle-like furs out of Snowe's back. As soon as they were all out Snowe could heal with his water rune. Snowe just endured quietly.
It wasn't until Lawrence was completely out of site that Lazlo spoke, "I'm sorry Snowe, for what I said on the way here. It was rude and unwarranted. I-t won't happen again, okay?"
He patted Snowe's shoulder reassuringly, knowing full well that if he hadn't gotten Snowe riled him in the first place, the white haired man wouldn't have become so reckless.
Who is he kidding? I'm completely to blame. I'm just the same as I was in my teens…weak…controlling…rash. I thought I had changed, but I haven't. Lazlo is still the one cleaning up my messes.
Snowe sighed deeply, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Lazlo. This was all my fault. I'm such an idiot…heh…but you already knew that much."
Taking the last of the needles out, Lazlo turned to face a disgraced looking Snowe. "Hey…" he said putting a hand on Snowe's cheek, " let's be fair here, I pushed you too far; you took out your anger on a large group of fuzzballs. We're both idiots."
Lazlo chuckled, trying his best to lift Snowe's spirit. It was even starting to work, until Snowe glanced down at Lazlo arm.
That scar…
Snowe remembered kissing over it this morning and feeling that it was important somehow, but at the time he was too preoccupied to pin it down. Now, however, the memory came back crystal clear.
…it's my fault too.
Keneth, Tal, Paula, and Jewel, all new trainees, circularly surrounded two young boys in the center of a remote part of the knight's training grounds. The pale, then long haired girl, smiled cheerfully waving at the older of the two participates. The other three just looked like they wanted this whole stupid challenge to be over with.
Two days ago, during training excises, Vincent Vingerhut had eagerly come to watch his son perform sword play. Glenn had not wanted the Duke, or anyone not in the knights present, but per usual, he couldn't deny the man funding him the privilege.
The circumstances had been dreadful that day. Training was in duels with dull, handed down- swords this week. Snowe had been paired up with Lazlo. At the time, the two were still inseparable and Snowe was unaware that his father would be attending.
As training started, he caught a glance of his father's gaze in the crowd. Suddenly Snowe was filled with fright. If he didn't perform perfectly, he knew his father would be disappointed for days, maybe even weeks. As the duel wore on, nerves eventually got the better of him. His sword flew out of his hand and the next thing he knew he was bent over on the ground with Lazlo's sword pointed at his neck.
Master Vingerhut's expression was one of wrath, eyes directed solely on Lazlo, the boy that had been allowed into his household so many years ago. To shame his son in such a way was unforgivable. "Ungrateful cur!" the pot bellied man cursed under his breath. Glenn frowned from behind, knowing Lazlo's shaky situation.
The duels continued until each had a victor. The whole training yard was filled with kneeling trainees and standing proud victors. These were the stances and behaviors Glen taught to all his students, regardless of social status, but obviously Vincent had ignored that consistency and took Lazlo's actions as a form of humiliation.
At the end of the day, both boys came home to the estate.
"I'll figure out what to do with you later, Lazlo! Snowe come to my office. We have matters to discuss!
Lazlo was quickly sent off to the servant's quarters, glancing sorrowfully back at his so called "play-mate." Snowe followed his father, preparing for the verbal uproar about why he had let a mere servant best him, one of noble birth. The conversation went on for hours, but the prominent focus was on how Snowe could never disappoint him like that again, and that Lazlo would have to be dealt with somehow.
Emotionally exhausted, Snowe didn't dive much into what "Lazlo would have to be dealt with" meant. All he could think about was reclaiming honor and getting back in his father's good graces. Vincent was a downright insidious person faking a smile, but he was the only parent Snowe had, his life-line. Anything he could do to make his father proud was what he would do.
Pitifully, there was only so much tact a fourteen year old boy possessed. Snowe's plan was pilfering two dull-swords on an off-day, setting up another duel, and inviting their friends to view him become victorious. If he could just win this time and they could see it, perhaps it would get back to Glenn and then to his father, and everything would be right in the world.
Jewel took no convincing at all, her crush just at its beginning stages. Paula followed Jewel anywhere. As for Tal and Keneth, they went to keep the peace. Jewel started cheering for Snowe right away.
Although, Snowe made little effort to explain (simply stating it was for "fun"), Lazlo knew exactly what was really going through Snowe's mind and he was willing to lose to make his friend happy, but he knew he had to make it look real, and so they sparred in frenzy, Lazlo carefully trying not to strike Snowe off-balance. And after a close call, the fair haired man misinterpreted Lazlo's actions entirely, assuming the other boy was dead-set on winning. His movement became erratic and Lazlo failed to compensate. The recurring sound of iron against iron suddenly ceased as Lazlo fell to the ground, clutching his arm.
Although the swords were dull, a direct hit was enough to cause a deep gash wound. Everyone stood in shock. Jewel's cheering stopped, as she saw the first hint of darkness in the boy she so adored. Her feelings for him would never completely ebb away, but her admiration he would never again have.
Snowe dropped his weapon as the gravity of what he had done came crashing down upon him like ice. Lazlo was covering his wound with his other hand as Tal and Keneth rushed to his side examining the damage. Lazlo simply looked up at Snowe, with an expression so mixed with different emotions, but overall it was heartbreaking, like that of betrayal.
No one directly confronted Snowe, because of his status, but everyone glared at him as they left, only after Snowe had finally convinced them that he would take care of Lazlo's wound. The walk home was filled with deadly silence and when they arrived, Snowe made sure some servants tended to Lazlo's arm. Little did they both know, Vincent was watching them from a distance in the hallway. Snowe guiltily observed, as the servant cleaned Lazlo up, silently thinking of how to apologize. He finally looked Lazlo in the eye and his lips began to part, but suddenly Vincent walked in, interrupting what so desperately needed to be said.
"What have you two boys been up to all day and what happened to Lazlo there?" Vincent asked with a fake smile on his face. His voice commanded all attention.
"O-oh, Father, we were j-j-just train dueling so I could get better like you wanted, but there was an a-accident and Lazlo was injured." Lazlo simply nodded in agreement with Snowe, as to not complicate things further.
"Hmm, Lazlo, I take it you lost? Well, at least the wound is nothing serious. Come, Snowe, its time for me to teach you the art of trading. Sword-play isn't the only thing you'll need to know when you succeed me, my boy! Haha."
Once the other boy left with his father and the female servant had healed his arm with her rune, Lazlo slid to the floor and sobbed.
In the morning, Lazlo woke up to a basket of fresh fruits, sweets, and baked breads, obviously left by Snowe as his sort of apology. Little did he know that it would be the last time he would have a meal in the Vingerhut estate. That same afternoon Vincent had arranged for Lazlo to move into a spare room in Glenn's knight's quarters. Both boys were shocked at the revelation, but Snowe didn't have guts or the willpower to protest. "maybe it really is for the best…father must be right…" Snowe silently lied to himself. If there ever was a moment that could have changed both their fates, then that had been it, but it had come and gone.
A week after the transition, Lazlo's injury was a memory of the past, yet it had changed things between them dramatically.
"Snowe," Lazlo tapped his shoulder, breaking him free from his recollection, "you need to heal that now."
"O-oh, right, of course," Snowe trembled some as he lifted his hand up and activated his rune. As blue light enveloped him, the stinging in his back died down, but it did nothing for his self-loathing and uncertainty.
This "thing" with Lazlo all happened way too fast. He and I, we have so much baggage to sort out before we can get more involved, no, before I can get more involved. I-I don't want to get closer to him just to have him leave me later in disgust because I'm still the same poor excuse for a man I was back then.
"Hey, are you still with me?" Lazlo broke Snowe's chain of though once again.
Snowe nodded, "Yeah, everything is fine. I was just lost in thought for a bit." Mentally he was asking for forgiveness, because this night was not going to go as Snowe promised Lazlo it would. He knew he had to clear the air surrounding their past before he became more emotionally involved with Lazlo.
Lazlo was about to say something, but Lawrence's abrupt presence scattered his thoughts.
"Sorry I took so long mates. Here's yur share! Hey ya don't mind if I hit the bar early, do ya. We made a killin' and there's this one lass—"
"Lawrence! Do you ever consider your health? Lay off the booze."
Snowe shock his head in disagreement. He knew chastising the man produced worthless results, but sometimes he couldn't help it, particularly when he was stressed.
Lawrence scratched his head for a second and lied his ass off, "Sure thing Snowy, but I won't lay off the women! Hahahaha." With that, he left in a hurry, not wanting to get more scolding.
"That man never changes…"
"Yeah, but he can sure throw those knives half-drunk. It's pretty amazing. Too bad he wasn't around to join my army during the—"
"Lazlo I think you had enough wackos kissing your feet as it was, okay? I spent days on that ship too you know."
Lazlo just laughed good naturedly, glad that Snowe seemed to be cheering up some.
"Well, we might as well start heading back, maybe getting a bite on the way?" Lazlo asked. Snowe nodded and then they began to walk.
As they came close to a pig over a fire pit and ordered their meat, Lazlo finally remembered a certain something. He grinned like a mischievous child.
"Sooooo, on your desk this morning I saw some very interesting drawings, and what's more you live on top of some kind of clothing shop, is that right? What's the story?"
Snowe almost spit out his food. He did regain composure though.
"Lazlo it's a secret. I can't have anyone else in town knowing…please lets talk about it later when we are alone. It's a long story anyway."
"I'm holding you to that."
"Of course you are…" Snowe let out an exhausted sigh.
As they ate, Snowe psychologically compared his life to Lazlo. The brown-haired boy was as free as a bird, going and doing what he wanted when he wanted. Him? He still lived a simple little life in Razril, designing clothes on the side and killing pests.
Compared to Lazlo's life mine is so…bland. Could Lazlo ever really want a relationship with me long term?
Endnotes:
-Yup, that scar in the last chapter mattered. NOTHING is too minor. Lol
-Ah, Lawrence, what a pathetic plot-device you are.
-Why is Lazlo such an ass at the beginning of the chapter? His Sexy!times was interrupted and he is loosening up (too much lol) around Snowe, and also testing the new boundaries (it has been years). Let's face it, its hard to tell how they would interact if Lazlo actually spoke up. XD Sadly, there isn't much for me to go on with canon. Tactics wasn't all that revealing, aside from the fact that he appears to be laid back like his father, BUT not a push-over like he seemed in IV. Basically, I just ran with what I thought was best/not boring. No matter how much I try, I can't imagine them getting along perfectly, ever, which is fine, because what couple does?
-Comments, OCC/plot (lolwutplot?) concerns, constructive criticism, etc are welcome as always. I'll do my best to address/fix/expand on/etc if it's possible. I am getting near the end, so this might just be the last chance to do that before I bring things to a close. And, yes, I'm sure smut is probably high on the list of "concerns". I'm currently thinking about how/if I'm going to write explicit sex. It's not necessary for the ending whatsoever, and quite frankly it would most likely suck due to my lack of experience, if you catch my drift, but you never know. Non-explicit, though, is very likely.
Next up: Angst time: The Snowe edition. Because we already had a Lazlo one. lol