(A/N) Heey look I finally updated! XD
God, sorry it took me forever, but I hope the chapter was worth the wait! I'm so happy by how many people have checked out this fic and gave it a chance - you guys rock ^-^
Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! THE PARENTS RETURN!
Thanks for reading~
Inigo hadn't talked to his father for a couple of days. It was weird, because the mercenary was usually breathing down his neck at every turn; now the only person he saw on a daily basis was Laurent.
And while he didn't particularly mind that, it left him feeling disgruntled. He knew the reason his father was avoiding him was because he'd said he'd hated him. It made Inigo feel even worse because he knew it wasn't true.
He hated the way his father treated him, hated the suffocating strictness that was reserved just for him, but he didn't hate his father himself. He'd loved sitting around the campfire as a child and listening to his father telling stories of his past. He thought Gregor was the bravest and strongest person he'd met (well, except for maybe Lucina). He loved his father's hearty laugh and his sense of humor, though he knew he'd love it even more if it was ever directed towards him.
Inigo thought his father would be a really cool person to hang out with if only he was allowed to.
He couldn't remember a single time Gregor had done anything fatherly with him. He had never gone horseback riding with him (though he wasn't sure Gregor even knew how to ride a horse), he'd never taken him fishing, he'd never taught him to cook or hunt. He never spent any quality time with him at all. Inigo knew practically nothing about his father because of it, and he knew it worked in reverse as well.
Gregor had put up impenetrable walls between them, and Inigo had no idea how to begin to get over them or why they'd even been put up in the first place. His father treated him as a student, rather than a son, and the distance hurt Inigo so badly he still cried at night over it.
In reality, Inigo believed Gregor was the one that hated him, even though he had no idea what he'd done wrong. Though, based on how much his father criticized him, Inigo guessed it was his very personality.
He couldn't help but sometimes wonder if his father would've loved him more if he'd been born a girl.
Inigo has had the thought more than once. He had girlish tastes and tendencies sometimes, and they were among the first things that Gregor snapped down on when he could. His father wouldn't criticize those things if he was actually female. But, more than that, being a girl would've allowed him the freedom to follow through with his biggest dream: dancing. If he was born a girl, everyone would applaud his dreams and Gregor would've encouraged Olivia's teaching, rather than forbidden it. He wouldn't have had to deal with people looking down on him when they found out he wanted to be a dancer; he wouldn't have had to deal with hiding his inner personality to almost everyone around him; he wouldn't have had to deal with pretending to like fighting; he wouldn't have had to deal with hating himself and criticizing his girly self.
As a boy, he was trapped. As a girl, he was free.
Though he supposed he wouldn't have met Laurent if he wasn't dancing alone in the woods somewhere, so perhaps it wasn't all bad. The mage was there for him, and Inigo was the same way, so life wasn't all bad. There was someone who supported him, despite the fact that he was a boy and different from every other member of his gender.
The thought of his friend released the constriction in Inigo's chest and he took a deep breath as he successfully held back the tears that had threatened to fall.
Laurent really was the best person he ever could've met. Inigo only wished he'd known him from the beginning; maybe both of them would've been able to save themselves from growing up with insecurities.
Not that the problem of his father would ever go away.
Inigo sighed wearily as he hopped off his bed, heading out of his tent to go dance for Laurent. He'd been depressed earlier, but as he stepped outside he felt happiness start to trickle into his chest. He always looked forward to seeing the mage – he even thought he enjoyed his company more than anyone else's.
Maybe it was because Inigo didn't have to hide anything around Laurent. Maybe because around Laurent he could be who he was and still be a boy.
A smile tugged Inigo's lips for a brief second as he thought about Laurent; it quickly faded when he smacked right into his father.
"Inigo?" Gregor's strong accent made Inigo flinch and he looked down at his feet, finding himself unable to meet his father's eyes. He didn't want to see the anger that he knew would be there. "What you doing going out late?"
"Just had to pee…" Inigo mumbled.
He could almost feel Gregor's eyes narrow. "You better not going to drink."
"I'm not, father." Inigo clenched his teeth as he finally met his father's angry gaze, his own eyes blazing with anger. "Stop pretending you know everything about me."
Gregor flinched at the words, but didn't back down. "I know that going drinking when young very stupid."
"Well I'm not going drinking!" Inigo exploded. He could feel tears threatening to fall down his face. "And honestly I don't know why you care at all – it's not like you care about anything else I do! You don't care why I deem it necessary to go drinking; you don't care that you make me absolutely miserable; you probably wouldn't even care if I disappeared one day and never came back!"
Inigo honestly hadn't expected the slap to his cheek, though maybe he should've. His head snapped to the side from the force of it, and he stared in disbelief at a point on the ground. The sting in his cheek was fierce; Gregor had never slapped him that hard before.
"How dare you speak to me this way." Gregor's voice trembled with barely controlled anger. He pointed a finger in the direction of his tent. "Get back in tent. If I be catching you anywhere but mess hall or training circle for next week, you regret it."
Inigo gaped at his father, even as he felt anger and raw sadness welling up in his chest. His father was acting like he was still a teenager; his father was once again imposing himself on a life that he knew nothing about. The dancer began to shake from the force of his anger; his father was threatening him and punishing him for something he wasn't even doing. How was that fair? And preventing him from seeing Laurent for a week? Inigo shuddered just thinking about it.
How dare his father try to kill the only happiness and freedom he had in his life.
"Fuck you, dad," Inigo spat before he turned around to head back into his tent so his father wouldn't see his tears.
He probably deserved the slap to the back of his head.
Laurent sat alone in the clearing and wondered why he felt so betrayed.
The first night Inigo hadn't shown up, the mage had assumed that he'd fallen asleep somewhere before he'd gotten up to leave for the night. It wouldn't have been unusual or the first time; there were many instances when Laurent would go to an empty clearing and sit writing before heading home without seeing Inigo. The dancer would always show up again the next night, apologizing profusely for falling asleep. Laurent had always smiled, finding Inigo's flustered state strangely endearing.
This was the first time, however, that Inigo had been gone for more than one night.
In his brain, the part that dictated logical approaches to every problem, Laurent recognized that there were many reasons unrelated to himself that could account for Inigo's disappearance. He could've, for example, broken his leg and was unable to move outside of his tent; and since Laurent never went to his tent, he would have no way of communicating that he had injured himself. Or perhaps he had been asked by Chrom to assist on some mission and had had to leave in such a hurry that he'd had absolutely no time to contact Laurent and tell him.
They were all plausible, and yet the mage's heart didn't buy it. Somewhere deep within himself, underneath the logic and reason, Laurent worried that Inigo had stopped coming because he was tired of him. The mage had been so socially awkward that the dancer became disgusted with him and was trying to give him the hint that he didn't want to see him ever again. Or maybe he was so bored by Laurent's scientific approach to everything, turned off like everyone else the mage had ever met, that he decided dancing for him wasn't worth it anymore. Maybe he'd come to despise Laurent for insisting on coming every night; maybe he wanted to be alone to practice.
The thoughts hurt so badly that Laurent ultimately had no idea how to deal with them.
After the fourth night in a row that Inigo failed to show himself, Laurent slumped back to his tent with a weight on his shoulders and an ache in his chest.
As he passed his mother's tent, however, he paused. Her candle was still burning, which wasn't a surprise for the mage since he had inherited his night-owlness from her, and he contemplated going in to talk her. He made it a habit to visit her once a day, just to see if anything had changed (which it never did, but one could hope), but he'd neglected to that day because of the distraction of the whole Inigo dilemma.
Laurent wasn't really in the mood to deal with his mother, but he decided he better. After all, what if this was the one day Miriel changed her mind? Her acknowledgement of him would definitely take his mind off Inigo.
Taking a deep breath, Laurent walked over to the tent and lifted the flap. "…Mother?"
There was no response; really, Laurent should've turned around and walked out right then. However, something compelled him to disregard his gut feeling and he stepped warily into the tent.
His mother was hunched over her desk, scribbling fiercely in her notebook as she watched a bubbling concoction unwaveringly. It appeared she was working some kind of chemistry experiment, a subject Laurent had always found interesting. He cleared his throat, but Miriel didn't even look up.
The mage plowed forward anyway. "What are you working on, Mother?"
"I'm observing the different rates at which certain acids dissolve hard metals, such as iron," Miriel responded blandly, almost uninterestedly, even though Laurent knew quite the opposite was true.
Encouraged by the actual response, Laurent decided to take a risk. "Do you need assistance?"
"No." The response was so quick it made the mage flinch. Miriel…hadn't even bothered to consider the idea.
Feeling his hope deflating and fading away, Laurent decided to try one last tactic to entice his mother. "I recently have been wondering if the composition and size of human muscles affect our ability to perform certain movements, and how these differ between individuals, and was considering—"
"Unless you're planning to dissect human beings, I doubt you'll get very far," Miriel interrupted before she glanced up at him, once. "But if you're willing, go ahead. You have plenty of resources within your own tent."
That was a dismissal if Laurent had ever heard one. As the mage stood there, astonished by his mother's complete lack of interest, he tried to control the waves of emotion threatening to break out. He could barely pick out sadness, anger, and disappointment in the swirling mass that ached in his chest and he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.
However, when this failed, Laurent silently excused himself, not wanting to lose control of himself in front of his mother.
Not that she would care either way.
Laurent walked quickly back to his tent, trying to shake some of the tension that was causing his hands to quiver, but he found it hardly helped. When he entered the privacy of his own tent, he swatted a hand out and knocked all of the papers and candles off his desk. The crash was immensely satisfying, and Laurent continued by knocking everything that was elevated onto the ground. Eventually he reached for his field notebook, flipping to the pages of Inigo's dance he'd so painstakingly taken. Ripping them out of the book one by one, imitating the feeling in his heart, Laurent threw the pages up in the air before smacking the book onto the ground and stomping on it.
He was unsure for how long he rampaged, for his brain had conked out a long time ago and he was fueled only by his overwhelming emotions. When he eventually regained consciousness, he was surprised by how drained he felt.
Panting heavily, observing the destruction his fit had caused, Laurent crouched on the ground, cradling himself as he tried his best not to shake.
Why did everyone hate him? Why was he so unable to form lasting friendships? Was the fact that he was unable to comprehend much of human emotion cause for making people think he wasn't worth the effort?
Tears slid down his cheeks, causing Laurent to blink in slight surprise. He hadn't cried since the first time his mother had shut herself off to him, which was going on a couple of years now. It had been so long since he was this miserable. For a moment, he wished that Inigo was with him, before he remembered with sharp bitterness and sadness that Inigo had become another one of the individuals who thought he wasn't worth the effort.
Where had he gone wrong? Just last week Inigo had been laughing at him and his utter lack of ability to dance. What could have possibly changed in such a short amount of time?
As sobs racked through his body, Laurent tried to process why Inigo's betrayal hurt just as much as Miriel's. They hadn't been friends for long, but perhaps Laurent had assumed that after bearing their hearts open to each other that they had become close like no other had. It had meant a lot to him, but apparently it hadn't meant anything to Inigo.
What a fool he'd been. Inigo had probably lied to him about not telling anyone about his problems before; Laurent was probably just a convenient outlet that the dancer discarded when he'd used it up.
The pain that stabbed Laurent's heart then was unbearable. What was wrong with him? How could he have been so blind to the truth?
Once again, the mage was reminded of his mother's words: Emotions only cloud logical thinking.
Well, if that was the case, then Laurent decided he would never feel emotion again. He would never again allow someone to get close to his heart, like Inigo had, and would further distance himself from people like he'd always done. At one time he'd been lonely, and had despised his mother from keeping him isolated, but now he realized she had been protecting him; if he didn't get emotionally involved with people, he would never feel pain. He would never have to deal with betrayal and people's tendency to lie.
Never again would he feel so heartbroken.
However, that would be easier said than done. Though his tears were starting to dry, the pain was still poignant in Laurent's chest.
After all, even though he resolved to not care, it was hard to ignore the fact that truly no one cared about him.
Inigo was absolutely miserable.
Not being able to see Laurent or dance took a larger toll on him than he thought was possible; he went about his day with a constant raincloud over his head. He could feel his muscles softening from lack of practice and there seemed to be a constant, painful tightness in his chest. He couldn't stand not having a break from his charade; day after day he was forced to pretend he was someone else without any intervals, and the pressure was so heavy on him that he cried himself to sleep every night.
Not only that, but he missed Laurent. He missed his stupidly large hat and his stubborn insistence on observing Inigo and taking such dedicated notes. He missed teaching that large buffoon to dance and missed the small smile that would grace his lips every time Inigo did something stupid. He missed the way Laurent laughed, the way he watched Inigo's every move, the way he was able to support him and his dream without saying a word.
With each passing moment, his misery and bitter hatred for his father only grew.
Every day, Inigo tried to sneak out and tell Laurent what his father had done, but he could never get far without Gregor catching him. The dancer hoped to run into him when he was allowed to go to the dining hall or the training area, but just as always he was never able to see Laurent during the day. Their encounters had only been nightly, and that apparently wasn't going to change.
Inigo's desperation rose with each day and he found himself antsy and irritable. He needed to dance, and he needed to see Laurent. If he didn't soon, he felt he was going to explode.
And, finally, his ban was lifted.
The first night Gregor released Inigo to his freedom, the dancer practically ran for the woods. As he ran, his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest; finally he'd be able to see Laurent again, could apologize for being gone for so long, could dance… He'd also have to apologize for being out of shape, which hopefully wouldn't mess up the notes the mage had been taking, but at least Inigo wasn't afraid of making a mistake in front of Laurent anymore.
Panting from running as fast as he could, Inigo crashed into the clearing and whirled around, looking for a familiar hat and garb.
He was absolutely devastated to see Laurent wasn't there. Had he been gone for too long? Or was he just early, and the mage hadn't yet left his tent? Yeah, that was it, Inigo shouldn't worry so much. Instead he could take the time to warm-up so he wasn't absolutely awful in front of Laurent.
The more Inigo worked on his dance, however, and the more Laurent refused to show himself, the dancer became more and more discouraged. Had the mage given up on him? Had he decided that Inigo wasn't worth waiting for?
Inigo was surprised by how heavy that thought rested in his chest. Laurent had become a really important person to him. He couldn't stand it if the mage didn't care about him anymore, if he didn't want to support him anymore, because what would he have left? He would never have the confidence to show his dance to Olivia without Laurent backing him up, and he would lose the only friend who really knew who he was. Yeah he had other friends, but they weren't close like Laurent was; none of them knew what the mage knew, cared like the mage did. Or used to care.
Feeling tears starting to well up in his eyes, Inigo took a shaky breath as he tried to figure out what he should do. Well, the obvious thing would be to go talk to Laurent; after all, the whole thing could be a huge misunderstanding that Inigo simply needed to clear up.
He hoped that's all it was.
Making his way back through the woods, Inigo was surprised at how nervous he was. He'd been to the mage's tent millions of times, had literally opened up his heart and shared all of his deepest secrets with Laurent, and he was nervous about going to talk to him after a week of being apart? That was absolutely ridiculous; he hoped their relationship meant as much as it did even when they were separated.
Finally reaching Laurent's tent, Inigo hesitated outside for a moment. He was suddenly struck with déjà vu; this was exactly like when he'd taken drunk refuge what seemed like years ago.
Hopefully the visit didn't go as badly as that one did.
"Hey, Laurent?" Inigo called, going to lift the flap. "Are you decent?"
Deciding not to wait for an answer, as he was suddenly afraid of being pushed away, Inigo forced his way in. Laurent was sitting exactly where Inigo could've guessed: at his desk, writing. When the dancer pushed himself in, the mage looked up at him in shock.
"I-Inigo?!" Laurent sounded surprised but then, suddenly, his eyes took on a hard look Inigo had never seen before. "…What do you want?"
"What do I want…?" Inigo asked, confused. He'd never needed a reason to visit Laurent before. "I want to apologize for disappearing for a week – my dad caught me when I was going out to meet you, and he banned me from going out for a week because—"
"Do you say that to everyone?" Laurent interrupted coldly.
Inigo just gaped at him in shock. "Laurent, what the hell?! Who is everyone? And why would I make up excuses for not—?"
"If you don't want my company, you can just say so," Laurent spat, turning away from Inigo and focusing on his writing again.
Inigo stared, his shock reaching unbelievable levels. Where the hell was all of this coming from?! What had made Laurent think he didn't want to hang out with him anymore?! Hadn't their relationship shown that Inigo needed Laurent's company; hadn't Inigo shown that he really cared about and enjoyed being with the mage?
…Had he ever told Laurent any of that?
"Laurent, of course I want your company; you're really important to me, and—"
"Am I?" Laurent hissed, finally turning to face Inigo again. The dancer was unsettled by the raw anger and hurt shining in his eyes. "Or do you just care about what I entitle? I am the physical body of the support you need for your dream; I know you care about that. But that's not me – I believe, Inigo, that you only appreciate me for what I do for you. I don't think you care about me at all."
Inigo's mouth flapped uselessly. What Laurent was saying wasn't true at all…and yet guilt struck the dancer. What if that was what he was doing, unconsciously? Hadn't he always said that he liked Laurent because he could be himself around him? He liked Laurent because the mage supported him and made him feel good about himself.
What if he'd been leading Laurent on this entire time?
Swallowing, Inigo tried not to be sick. He was disgusted at how selfish he was; when had he ever helped Laurent? When had he ever returned the favors that the mage had given him?
"Laurent, it's true that I appreciate all of the support you've given me…but that's not the only thing!" Inigo shouted and, with each word, the unease left him; after all, he knew every word leaving his mouth was the truth. "You are the one thing enjoyable in my life, Laurent. You saw me that first night – I came out here to dance when I was crying my eyes out. But when I come to the woods now, with the knowledge that you'll be there waiting for me, I come with a smile on my face. I enjoy your company more than anyone else's. When I was cooped up in my tent this last week, I was absolutely miserable because I couldn't see you. You make me laugh, you make me smile, you make me enjoy life Laurent!
Inigo swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. "So don't ever again say I don't care about you, because I do. I care that you're hurting as much as I am when it comes to your own family, and I want to help you. I want to be there for you like you've been for me. I care what you say, I care what you think, I care about your opinion more than anyone else's. Maybe I've been a shitty friend until now, even though I promised to teach you, but I've always cared about you, Laurent."
The transcending silence was unbearable for Inigo. Laurent was staring at him with his mouth open, apparently frozen in shock. Inigo was breathing heavily, and it sounded loud in his ears; if Laurent didn't say something soon he felt like he was going to explode into a fit of sobbing and hysterics.
"I-Inigo, I…" Laurent stood up and, surprisingly, pulled Inigo into a hug. The dancer loved the feeling, though he was shocked at first, and he smiled a little in pride for his friend; even just a few weeks ago, the mage wouldn't have instigated physical contact like that. "I am ashamed of what I have said and thought. I am ashamed that I trusted so little in our friendship that I made up scenarios that you would never put me through. I'm sorry that I didn't trust you, Inigo. You are my dearest friend, and I've already failed one of your lessons in friendship; friends trust in each other. Please forgive me."
Inigo grinned, despite himself, and wrapped his arms around Laurent's shoulders in return. He was so happy his heart ached in his chest. "I forgive you, Laurent. I understand what it must've felt like for me to suddenly disappear on you like that; if that was me in your situation, I probably would've cried my eyes out!"
Laurent snorted, only making Inigo grin harder. "I'm sure you were crying anyway."
"Well, you're not wrong," Inigo laughed, and the effect was astounding; the tension seemed to leave his body and he felt like he was melting into Laurent's arms. He could feel Laurent's smile against the top of his head, and he couldn't help but think nothing could get him down in that moment.
When they pulled apart, Inigo lightly punched Laurent in the arm. "And make sure you rely on me in the future, okay? You're always welcome in my tent."
"I will make sure to do that." Laurent smiled at him. "After all, we're going to change the social norms together, correct?"
"Of course we are!" Inigo grinned.
The dancer didn't return to his tent that night. Usually when that happened it was because he went drinking; but not that night. That night Inigo spent time with Laurent, chatting with him, catching up with the week's past events, and reading the newest editions to the mage's manuscript. He listened attentively to Laurent talking about what had happened with his mother and laughed when the mage told a story about how he'd been talking to his father and Chrom, happening to walk by, had thought Laurent was talking to himself.
Eventually Inigo fell asleep lying in Laurent's bed again, and he found that as he dozed off he couldn't keep the smile off his face.
He hadn't been this happy in years.
"Father, I made a friend," Laurent said suddenly when he was sitting with Kellam around the campfire. Everyone else had left already, but father and son made it a habit to stay long after just talking; after all, it was awkward for Laurent to talk to his father when no one else could tell he was talking to someone, and Olivia was often dancing, so they didn't want to be rude by talking over her.
Kellam startled, turning to look at Laurent with a grin on his face. "Hey, Laurent, that's great! Who is it?"
"Inigo."
"…Oh." Laurent looked up at that, seeing an uncertain look on his father's face. The mage's eyebrows furrowed.
"Is there a problem?"
"Well, not really, it's just…" Kellam hesitated for a moment. Laurent just sat looking at him, patiently waiting for his father to find his words. "…He has an…odd reputation."
Laurent sighed. "I assume you mean his skirt-chasing tendencies and lack of concern for anything."
"Well yeah…" Kellam paused again, but for a shorter amount of time. "How did you even meet him?"
"Father, I just want you to know that he's nothing like that," Laurent said defensively, ignoring Kellam's question. He couldn't truthfully answer it without revealing Inigo's secret, which he refused to do. Inigo would reveal it himself, when he was ready.
Laurent could feel his father's eyes on him, but he couldn't bring himself to look up from where he'd turned to his notebook. He just knew that Kellam was wondering why he wasn't telling him how they met, but he thankfully didn't push the subject. "Well, I'm still glad. It's important to have friends."
"Even if your parents disapprove of them," Laurent said stiffly, then immediately regretted it when he saw his father's hurt expression.
"I don't disapprove…well, at least not anymore," Kellam turned to face Laurent fully before he continued, "I should know better than anyone that you can't judge people by their cover, and I'm glad you see the good sides of him. But most importantly, Laurent, I'm glad you have someone to support you; I wish you'd been able to have that growing up, and I'm sorry I wasn't a good enough father for you."
Laurent's eyes widened slightly. "Father, you were perfectly fine; after all, it's impossible for either of us to deny Mother."
The mention of Miriel put a quick damper on their conversation. Kellam took a shaky breath, and Laurent once more avoided his gaze; he shouldn't have brought up his mother. It was a sensitive subject even when they weren't talking about it.
Laurent decided to quickly change it. "What do you think of Inigo's father?"
"Gregor?" Kellam tilted his head, seemingly relieved to change the subject. "I've never really talked to him…because I'm not even sure if he can see me…but he seems kind. He's loud, but he's always offering to help out in the mess hall and causing laughter all around the camp. And boy is he a fearsome fighter."
"That is what I observed as well," Laurent said thoughtfully as he returned to his sketches. Since he'd ripped out all of his pages on Inigo's dancing, he was working on recreating them from memory.
"Why do you ask?"
Laurent hesitated. It wasn't his place to disclose the interworking of Inigo's family, but he also realized that it was just his father. Kellam was the last person to gossip and spread rumors, and most people couldn't hear him even if he did. Besides, it had been bothering the mage for a while, so perhaps it was good to have a second opinion.
"He is…incredibly tough on Inigo. The stories that I hear from Inigo about him are so contrast to what I've always observed that it's hard for me to grasp it."
Kellam hummed thoughtfully. "No chance that Inigo's just lying?"
"He wouldn't do that." Laurent shook his head, even as guilt pricked him; he had doubted Inigo before, but he promised himself he wouldn't again. "And…you haven't seen him like I have."
"Well that certainly is strange," Kellam said before pausing for a moment. "My guess, as a fellow father, is that Gregor doesn't want Inigo to make the mistakes that he made as a child."
"That could cause him to be unnecessarily strict," Laurent admitted, nodding his head. It would certainly explain the behavior that the mage had heard about from Inigo contrasting against the evidence he'd collected himself from what he knew as an outsider. Sighing, Laurent closed his notebook and stared into the campfire. "You'd think he'd realize how hard it is for Inigo, though."
"Sometimes love is blind," Kellam said before he suddenly patted Laurent roughly on the back, causing the mage to almost fall over. "You really care about Inigo, huh?"
Laurent gaped at his father, shocked. How had Kellam picked up on that? Was it from something the mage was doing, yet another human tendency that he failed to pick up on? Eventually gathering his thoughts, Laurent cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yes. He does mean a lot to me."
Kellam just grinned at him, though the mage could figure out no fathomable reason why he would. "I'm glad, Laurent. I really am."
Raising an eyebrow at his father, Laurent deemed it appropriate not to respond and instead turned back to the fire. He felt lighter talking to his father about Inigo, and was relieved to not need to keep it a secret anymore. There had never really been a need to, but for some reason Laurent had always felt like it was taboo to talk about his secret night outings with Inigo until now.
A small smile on his face, Laurent relaxed in the prevailing silence as they spent the rest of the evening simply enjoying each other's company.
Inigo had been an "adult" for a year now, but it was still weird for him that he didn't see his mother constantly.
Though he and his father were in constant struggle, Inigo was incredibly close to Olivia. She had always been there to raise him and support him through everything in his life, and Inigo knew he would never have gotten through everything he had if his mother hadn't been there for him. She was kind, she was sweet, she was funny. Every night when he was a kid she would tell stories to him, outrageous fantasies that captivated Inigo and made him fall asleep happy with a smile on his face.
And, of course, she was the one who taught him how to dance.
She had always been there, and though sometimes they made each other so embarrassed and bashful that they couldn't talk to each other for a couple of hours, Inigo had enjoyed every moment he spent in her presence.
Now that he didn't see her on a daily basis, Inigo was really starting to miss her and the happiness she brought with her.
The day after Inigo had slept over in Laurent's tent, the dancer decided to go see his mother. He kept up a habit of visiting her every other day when he could, but his father's ban and the whole situation with Laurent had made it impossible for him to even think about Olivia. Knowing her, she was probably freaking out about where he could possibly be, unless Gregor had told her about his ban, and Inigo was missing her, so he figured he might as well take care of both matters in one visit.
"Mom?" Inigo called as he half opened the flap to his parents' tent. To his surprise, she was actually there, humming to herself as she folded clothes and put fresh blankets down. At Inigo's voice, she jumped so hard the shirt she'd been holding fell out of her hands and she spun around at a speed that could only be accomplished by a dancer.
"Inigo?!" Olivia just about screamed and, before Inigo could wonder why his mother seemed so surprised, ran over and wrapped him in her arms. "Oh, it's so good to see you! I'd…I'd heard that Gregor had confined you to your tent and… Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, Inigo! If I'd known sooner I would've tried to put a stop to it! What a silly thing for Gregor to do…!"
"Mom, it's okay," Inigo interrupted, even though it really wasn't, as he tried vainly to struggle out of his mother's death grip. "Um, I'm, uh, kind of having trouble breathing here."
"Oh! Sorry!" Olivia squeaked as she immediately released Inigo and took a step back, a dark blush on her cheeks.
Looking at her being embarrassed made Inigo embarrassed and he looked down at his feet as he tried to hide his own blush. "So how are you?"
"I'm fine, but…" Inigo looked up to see his mother sending him a sad smile. "I'm more concerned about you. Are you doing okay? It's probably not easy living on your own, at least it wasn't for me, and I know it probably feels like you can't ever come see me… But you can; I'll never turn you away. And…if you are going to go drinking, make sure you're safe okay?"
"I'm…getting there. It was hard at first, but I'm doing better." Inigo frowned. "But I haven't gone drinking for months now. You don't need to worry about me."
"If you weren't drinking, then where were you going?" Olivia tilted her head to the side, obviously confused. "Gregor said you were sneaking out of your tent in the middle of the night…"
Inigo flinched. Well he'd really backed himself into a hole now…what was he supposed to tell his mother?! There was no way he could tell her that he'd been secretly dancing in the woods for years…especially when he was dancing for someone, making it impossible to use the 'I was too embarrassed to show anyone' excuse that had saved his butt millions of times before.
"Uh…" Inigo stalled, realizing he'd been quiet for too long. "I was going out to chat up the ladies! You know me, haha!"
"Inigo," Olivia reprimanded, sending him that look that told him she knew he was lying, "We both know that there's literally nothing out there in the middle of night but Risen."
Yeah, I know that, Inigo thought, remembering the time he'd almost gotten attacked. With a slight touch of nostalgia, the dancer also remembered that was the first time he'd found out Laurent had been watching him. "Well, uh…"
A smile itched onto Olivia's face. "Have you been dancing?"
"WHAT?!" Inigo screamed, taken aback by his mother's spot on guess, before he quickly controlled himself. "I mean, o-of course not, that's not—"
"I'm so happy!" Olivia gushed, completely ignoring her son. "I was worried Gregor really had squashed your interest in dancing, but I'm so happy that you're keeping it up! You have to show me!"
"NO!" Inigo blushed darkly as he slowly backed away from his mother, his legs itching to run away. "I-I could never! Do you know how mortifying that would be?!"
"Yes, but we're family, Inigo!" Olivia took a step forward, matching every step Inigo took back, until she was nearly cornering him against the wall of the tent. "We danced just fine together when you were first learning!"
"But that was different! That was before…" He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence as painful memories surfaced.
Olivia's eyes softened. "I promise Gregor won't find out. It'll just be me. Please?"
Inigo seriously considered it. He had wanted to show his dance to Olivia for a long time now, and he was slowly overcoming his stage fright, but each time he thought about it his chest squeezed tightly with nerves. His mother was just so good. There was no way he could ever hope to come up to her level, especially when he'd been self-taught for the most part. He was terrified his mother would be disappointed with his lack of skill. Yeah, he knew what Laurent thought, and it meant a lot to him, but Laurent wasn't a dancer – he didn't know what it was supposed to be like.
Olivia did, and even if she didn't mean to, it would be hard not to judge him.
"I-I…have to practice more!" Inigo shouted before he did turn around and run out of the tent, his cheeks flushed and his heart pounding in embarrassment.
He didn't even turn around as his mother shouted his name after him.
Laurent was paying more strict attention to Inigo than he ever had since he'd first begun watching, which was probably why he didn't notice the other presence lingering in the shadows as Inigo danced.
Since he had ripped out all of his pages on Inigo's dance, he had to pay more attention than ever before to recreate them. He was actually kind of proud of how much he remembered, when he'd been working on them before, but it was always good to see it himself and retake in the details.
One thing that surprised him was that he was still completely blown away by Inigo's performance. Despite the fact that he'd seen the dance millions of times, Inigo still managed to make it breathtaking; Laurent's heart continued to pound hard in his chest and it seemed like the entire world stopped moving when Inigo did. Perhaps it was also because Laurent hadn't seen it for a week, but this time especially seemed absolutely beautiful.
Laurent wasn't sure for how long he would've sat there, stunned, if a leaf hadn't crunched behind him.
Flinching, the mage quickly turned around, pulling out his Arcwind tome. Risen hadn't attacked them since the first time Laurent had revealed himself to Inigo, but he always brought at least one tome with him just in case. After all, Inigo had stated that he hated bringing weapons to his dance sessions, which meant it was up to the mage to protect them if anything were to attack them (it was also for that reason that Laurent had invested in upgrading his wind magic).
However, what Laurent faced was not a Risen but Olivia.
"O-Olivia?" Laurent stuttered, confused, as he lowered his tome.
"O-Oh! I, um, was just t-taking a walk!" Olivia stuttered around, her face coated in a dark blush. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Laurent couldn't help but think how much Inigo really took after his mother.
"M-MOTHER?!" Inigo screamed from behind Laurent and, when the mage turned around, he was amused by the identical blush on the dancer's face. "H-how…?! How long have you been there?!"
"Inigo…" Olivia's face was beaming as she stepped out of the forest and walked towards her son. "I'm so proud of you!"
The male dancer looked absolutely dumbfounded. "…What?"
"You've improved so much since you were little and honestly…" Laurent and Inigo both jumped in shock as tears started falling down Olivia's cheeks. "Your dancing is so beautiful!"
"WHAT?! I m-mean, it's not…!" Inigo stuttered around as well, his dark blush still prominent, as he flailed his arms around, apparently unsure of how to deal with his crying mother.
"Inigo, we should dance together for the camp sometime," Olivia said softly as she grabbed her son's hands in her own. "It would be really fun, and I'm sure everyone will love it!"
"I-I CAN'T!" Inigo screamed as his face seemed to somehow darken several shades. Laurent wondered briefly how nothing was coming to attack them with how loud the male dancer was shouting.
"You can," Olivia assured, dropping one of Inigo's hands to instead place a soft touch to his cheek. She then turned to Laurent, who flinched a little at suddenly being addressed. "Don't you think so, Laurent?"
"Yes, I do." Laurent nodded before he met Inigo's eyes. "There's a strong probability that everyone will feel the way I do when I watch you dance; and, if that's the case, you never have to be embarrassed again."
Inigo just gawked at him and, for some reason, Laurent found himself unable to hold his gaze. Though he meant what he said, and wasn't embarrassed for saying it, he wasn't really comfortable with the way Inigo was looking at him, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe because human emotion was still a hard subject for him, and all of the emotion in Inigo's eyes was too much for the mage.
Olivia giggled, breaking Laurent out of his reverie. "You have a really nice friend, don't you Inigo?"
"W-what's that supposed to mean?" Inigo sputtered as he took his gaze off Laurent, for which the mage was glad, and faced his mother.
"Exactly what it sounds like." Olivia smiled, and a weird emotion glinted in her eyes that Laurent couldn't identify.
Inigo mouth-flapped at her for a moment before his eyes met Laurent's again. "…Yeah. Yeah I do."
Laurent flushed and he felt warmth spread throughout his entire body. What…what was this feeling? What was this hot pain in his chest that made him want to smile until his cheeks burned? Why was it making him feel like he couldn't look Inigo in the eye? Why was he so happy about what Inigo had said, anyway? It wasn't like he'd said much…he'd just said Laurent was a nice friend. And maybe that was it – Laurent had never had a friend before, so perhaps he was glad that Inigo thought he was a good friend. Maybe Inigo's opinion of him meant a lot to him.
But why?
"Okay, I'll do it," Inigo finally said after a moment of consideration, his eyes blazing with determination and passion. He looked at Laurent, and the mage nodded at him, glad that the male dancer was trying to get over his fears.
"Yay!" Olivia cheered, before she thanked Laurent and began to talk excitedly to Inigo about their rehearsal schedule. Laurent nodded in response, but he was distracted by the way Inigo's eyes lit up and how he seemed to just glow with energy and excitement.
Slightly off-put, the mage stood off to the side as Inigo and Olivia embarrassed each other discussing their dance routine. The strange feeling in his chest wasn't going away, and he was getting frustrated the more he couldn't identify it. He'd have to run some experiments, or ask his father. It felt like some strange mix of happiness and embarrassment, but more importantly….
Why did Inigo cause him to feel such a strange mixture of emotions?