Chapter Text
ADRIEN DID NOT OFTEN DREAM, BUT WHEN HE DID IT FELT LIKE HE WERE LIVING ANOTHER'S LIFE . Individually, they weren’t all that different. He was always looking out upon the ocean, its vast expanse reaching out onto the horizon, an uncomfortableness resting on his collar bones that did not take a physical shape. He could never move. His feet were anchored to the stone, legs paralysed by a force that was binding like chains. Adrien did not fight it. There was no reason for why he should. He didn’t fear dreams.
And, yet, he had no say in the way his body reacted to certain voices. How his shoulders shook with trembles and his arms held still and tense at his sides. If he couldn’t understand the old speech, the presence he bore witness to would have been the worst of it. That would have been what turned those dreams into nightmares. But he could⸺still he was not sure how⸺and the gruff voice that spoke at his shoulder, musty breath hitting the back of his neck where his clothing dipped low, was enough to wake him in a cold sweat.
He was certain, however, in the fact that he was not himself. If he were then he would have been able to recognize faces, connect voices with names. But there was nothing familiar about the coastline nor the ships that sailed in the distance, growing smaller by the minute. Adrien was used to feeling like an outsider in his own skin⸺an imposter wearing his face and using his voice⸺but he’d never felt more at home in his body than when he was dreaming inside another's. He never felt safer than when those arms would wind around his own, lifting the appendages that wouldn’t move on their own, and holding him tightly. The squeeze on his wrists. The weight of the head that fell on his left shoulder, hair tickling his upper spine. The lips that kissed the side of his neck, the feeling making him want to tip his head back and relish in it. Except he couldn’t.
The knowledge that Adrien didn’t know this person never seemed to hit until he was stirring awake, his mind muddled by images that clouded his thoughts and stirred something in the pit of his stomach. He supposed he liked those dreams. They were strange, but they sparked something in him that made him feel alive. When it was anyone else it was nauseating in a way that Adrien couldn’t seem to grasp. Where it was confusing, but he could never seem to make sense of it. And it made him sick⸺sick to the point that he would wake with tears streaming down his face and he’d curl over the side of his bed and dry heave until his lungs couldn’t take the strain for much longer. And afterwards he felt violated.
His dreams would always come back to that gentle embrace, and he would always dread the moment that feeling slipped between his fingers. The safety. The adoration.
Adrien felt it stealing away from him again, the view of his hands being gently cradled by palms that were bigger than his own melting into the morning light. It poured through the sheer fabric of the curtains that were drawn but did nothing to darken the room. Adrien felt it from behind his eyelids, the scorching light that invaded his bedroom, but he didn’t move. He kept his eyes closed, trying to relive those last few moments. Those moments that lessened the weight around his neck, that made him feel alive.
And then a voice broke the morning's silence, fracturing the peace like an axe into wood. “You can’t live in your dreams forever, Adrien.” The voice belonged to Lara.
Adrien opened his eyes slowly, wanting to hold onto the memory of forgiving calloused hands but knowing it wouldn’t last. The sight that met him wasn’t unpleasant. The doors leading out to the balcony were opened wide, the curtains diaphanous from the sun’s beams and blowing delicately in the gentle winds. Adrien couldn’t sleep in the cold, so he knew it hadn’t been his own doing that had opened them. Then there was Lara sitting at the end of his bed, her hands resting in her lap and her posture rigid. It wasn’t so bright that Adrien had to shield his eyes to look at her, but he did so anyway, lifting his right hand to his face and partially covering his eyes. He pushed himself up onto his elbow, ignoring the way the top buttons on his shirt flapped open because Lara would feel the need to point it out regardless. She could be like that sometimes. But she wasn’t looking at him now. No, her gaze was directed towards the terrace doors, the makings of a grimace dawning on her face.
“There’s nothing wrong with dreaming,” Adrien muttered in response after clearing his throat, reaching blindly to the side to feel for the glass cup that rested on his bedside table. The water was lukewarm and it did nothing to quench his thirst but soothed the scratchiness at the back of his throat. When he was finished Adrien placed the mug back in the same spot and sat up completely, his legs crossing beneath the cover of his bedsheets.
“That is, until you begin to mistake your dreams for reality.”
Adrien didn’t pay any mind to the possible double-meaning that hid itself in Lara’s words. He was used to her quietness and the chilling quality of the words she did speak. But that didn’t mean he appreciated it being the thing he woke up to.
“Must you be so cynical?” Adrien wondered aloud, smoothing his fingers over the creases in his sleep shirt.
Lara chose that moment to steal a glance in his direction. The grimace didn’t leave her face⸺in fact, it seemed to worsen⸺as she took in Adrien’s disheveled appearance. His hair was a mess atop his head, golden curls sticking in any direction they chose to and knotted at his nape. His cheeks were flushed a soft pink and, where his head had rested on his pillow, indents from the grooves in the cotton were apparent on the right side of his face. He looked like the young man he was, waking from his slumber, sleep still discernible on his face. But Adrien’s handsome youth did nothing to save him from the faint blue bruises that curled under his lash line. Lara would argue those were his only imperfections, her brother. (With the exception being the thin, wire-like collar that wrapped around his neck. Half the time one wouldn’t even notice it was there unless the light caught it through the thin collars or Adrien’s shirts, like it was doing now).
Adrien took notice of where her gaze had wandered to and a bolt of panic shot down his spine. He tried to play it off casually, but his hands weren’t the least bit steady as he raised them to his chest, feigning calm as he poked the buttons back through their holes. Once they were all fastened, the very top of his shirt came up to the middle of his neck. It perfectly hid the golden cable.
Lara looked away sharply, her shoulders stiff. Adrien thought she wouldn’t answer him at first, but then she sighed, her lips set in a firm line. “Yes.” Lara’s voice was so flat that he thought he imagined her speaking, the single word ringing in his head. But Adrien knew she’d spoken, so he formed his acknowledgement.
“Lara, you are always a pleasure,” he sighed, his lips involuntary twisting into the makings of a sneer. It was like he couldn’t help it. His sister was eerie and something about her made his skin prickle in annoyance and discomfort.
It hadn’t always been that way. There was a time where Adrien clung to Lara’s side and put her on a pedestal like all the great historical figures were placed on theirs, melded into brass and gold and silver. And he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where that changed, only that it had and Lara had not looked at him the same since. Adrien supposed his discomfort stemmed from Lara’s attitude towards him⸺something of a mixture between guilt and sadness. It made him uncomfortable that he didn’t know the reason behind her looks. And it made him angry that he didn’t know why he didn’t know.
Willy never looked at him like that. His older brother merely brushed him off any time he’d attempt to ask about Lara’s odd behavior. “ I have other things to worry about ,” Will would say, turning Adrien out like he was a pestering child.
(Though, Adrien was confident that Willy had never sent his children away like he so often did to his brother. Adrien was a nuisance to both his siblings. His sister couldn’t stand to look him in the eye, and his brother wanted nothing to do with him. Adrien’s family truly had a lovely dynamic…)
“What do you want?” Adrien finally forced himself to ask.
Lara didn’t react as though she had heard him, though the smallest sigh fell from between her lips as they parted. She was back to staring out the doors. Those stupid doors …
Adrien was standing before he could stop himself, throwing his blanket off his legs and letting his feet fall to the cold hardwood beneath. He marched to the balcony doors, swatting the drapes aside when the wind blew them into his face, and slammed them shut with a resonating boom. The windows that lined the expanse of the wall shook with the force of it. But, when Adrien turned, the only evidence that existed to show Lara’s reaction were the lines that formed at the edge of her mouth.
Adrien stared at her, incredulous. “If you wish to say nothing⸺”
“Willy has asked that the family meet in the dining hall.”
“And he sent you to fetch me?” Adrien puzzled, fisting the fabric of his pants at his upper thighs to keep his hands busy. He considered adding, ‘ Because he doesn’t wish to send for me himself ,’ but he refrained. (Just barely, but he did).
Lara met his eye, then, with a look in her own that made Adrien bite his tongue to be thorough in preventing any further remarks from spilling out before he had time to think it over. She spoke slowly, her voice low and controlled in temper, “I sent myself.”
Adrien couldn’t find any reason to not believe her⸺she’d not lied to him before. And if she had then she was either a perfect liar or he was not as skilled at noticing people’s tells as he thought he was. Either way she wasn’t faltering. It was one of the many different things that Adrien admired most about her. Lara was better than most in that regard.
With the door closed at his back, Adrien was grateful that there was no longer a breeze wafting into the room. Their home was a mansion built in the countryside with Adrien’s chambers facing the east, the balcony hanging over the gardens, overlooking the beautiful arrangements and the hills that sweep the landscape. There was not a single flat of land in sight for miles. It was one of Adrien’s favorite things about the manor’s lands. The endless rise and fall of the earth and the craters that one could roll around in for hours without being seen from the main lodgings. He loved it out there for the obvious reasons; the feel of the grass against his palms; the smell of the wildflowers that bloomed in the pits; and the privacy. He loved not being surrounded by constant busybodies who poked their heads through doorways and listened through walls. Each and every one of them reporting back to his brother.
Adrien planted his hands on his hips, the imprints his fingers made in his pants smoothing out once he’d released them. He swallowed hard before forcing a small, grateful smile on his face. “Thank you for telling me,” he said. His voice was practically a whisper and a barely audible squeak punctuated his sentence⸺an annoying fact that he hoped Lara had not picked up on.
Lara seemed to take that as her que to leave. “Of course,” she returned. She stood from Adrien’s bed, hands still folded in front of her. She offered Adrien a smile of her own, though he would argue that her’s might have been more genuine than his own. Either way it made a fog of guilt cloud his mind and his smile wobbled. Lara didn’t notice because she was already turning towards the door at the far side of the room, opposite the balcony doors. When she was at the doorway, she paused, saying, “We will break our fast in fifteen minutes. Please do not keep us waiting.”
He felt the jab at his time management skills, but it was well deserved and Adrien didn’t blame her for wanting the assurance that he wouldn’t keep the rest of the family waiting. Still, that didn’t stop him from walking into the dining room five minutes past due, his hair less of a mess but his clothes still rumbled from his restless sleep. And Adrien wouldn’t necessarily say that he liked perfection, because striving for such a feat was exhausting and not worthwhile, but he liked to look his best. He’d never particularly picked up how to be a proper fighter and he wasn’t skilled in the art of politics, so Adrien weaponized what he knew he was capable of using against his opponents⸺his beauty.
Since Adrien was a young boy he’d always been complimented about how well he groomed himself. “ He is a proper young lad !” they’d say. “ You’ll be fighting tooth and nail to keep the ladies off of him .” Adrien remembered his father laughing about that specific comment like it was the most charming thing a person could have said about his son. In truth, it had made Adrien flush a violent shade of red and brought him seconds from bursting into tears out of anger. He’d been a child of ten years! Besides, the thought of even holding a girl's hand made him feel queasy. He didn’t much like it. To be frank, he didn’t like that anyone thought they had a right to hold his hand. The feeling had always felt wrong. And it had not subsided in the slightest as Adrien grew older.
But as he grew older, he’d also learned just about all the many ways that he could use that against people. Desire was such a fickle thing. And Adrien had learned that it’s best to hold your cards close to your chest lest a wandering hand snatches them from beneath your nose.
The dining hall, he noticed upon his arrival, was still in a state of disarrangement. Servants were bustling about with trays of food, silverware, cups, and fine china. Adrien stood blinking at the spectacle, wondering if he had missed breakfast completely. But the trays were being carried to the table not away and the dining ware was being neatly arranged, so it seemed that he was early for the first time in years. He chuckled softly at the idea. It sounded absurd even in his head.
“Adrien,” Willy addressed him from where he sat at the head of the table, a silver chalice balanced on the palm of his hand. He swirled around the contents inside with the circular movement of his wrist. “Good, you’re here.” Willy paused to glance at the grandfather clock that stood against the wall at the opposite end of the long table, its ticks! and tocks! echoing throughout the room. “And right on time, too.”
Suddenly, his being on time no longer seemed humorous. Not when it was his brother pointing it out.
“Come here.” Willy ushered him over, inspecting a platter of yellow eggs that a young woman had just set down at the center of the table. When Adrien didn’t move from his position at the door, Willy’s gaze swept back to him. “Adrien, please, I want to speak with you before Emilia brings in the kids.”
Willy gestured to the chair that was to his right. There were enough chairs around the table to seat each member of the Tybur family plus a few guests. There were sixteen in total pushed in around the long and rectangular dining table, a draping red and gold accented cloth set on top. Gold tassels hung down from the edges, tickling the backs of Adrien’s hands when he sat down in his seat, four chairs down. It wasn’t the one Willy had meant for him to sit in, but Adrien figured Willy would be happy that Adrien had listened to him in the first place. Besides, he never sat next to Willy when it came to a normal family meal. He had long since claimed the chair directly next to his youngest nephew and one away from his Mother. (If there was one thing his family was good at it was consistency).
“What is it that you are so urgent to tell me, brother?” Adrien mused, grabbing a pitcher that contained an orange fruit juice and pouring it into the glass a servant had left at his place setting. He smiled wryly, laughing into his cup, “Are you finally sending me away to marry some rich councillor?”
Silence.
In a split second Adrien’s smile was wiped from his face and he slammed his glass onto the table. The orange juice sloshed over the lip and wet the side of his hand, the liquid soaking into the cuff of his sleeve. His head whipped to the side to catch Willy’s careful expression. Adrien didn’t give him time to comment before he was speaking again. “I won’t do it,” he spat, his outrage showing on his face and in the way his breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. “You can’t make me.”
Adrien didn’t care that he sounded like a child pleading with his Mother to not make him give up his favorite toy. His brother could not send him away. He wouldn’t go. Adrien would fight tooth and nail, with everything he had in him, to prevent it from happening. He was surprised that Willy even thought it would work. Adrien would destroy whatever deal he had brokered with whatever official he had deemed good enough to make an alliance with from the ground up.
It wasn’t happening. Adrien wouldn’t let it. He would not be someone’s prize to flaunt around at parties and abuse in the night. He knew what that felt like⸺though, not personally⸺and he’d be damned if he was made a fool of.
“Adrien, calm down.”
Adrien’s anger pushed him to his feet, his chair scraping against the ground as it was thrust backwards. The absence of people in the room besides the two of them became dauntingly obvious, and Adrien didn’t like that he hadn’t noticed the others making their exits. “You plan to sell me off like some prostitute, and you want me to calm down ?” He stepped away from the table, one large sidestep. “You have got to be stupid if you think I would bow my head and agree to that! I won’t⸺I refuse.”
Willy set his drink down on his own placemat. He pushed his chair backwards and stood up, his demeanour the cool, calm and collected type that annoyed Adrien to no end. “Must I beg you to stop talking and just listen, for once?” Willy questioned, though he did not intend for Adrien to answer. “You are my brother. My only brother.” He’d walked fast for his slow stride and was suddenly directly in front of Adrien. Willy’s hand came up to grip the back of his neck, forcing his gaze to hold on Willy’s face. “ My baby brother .” Adrien swallowed hard, his eyes burning with a sheen of tears that he was fighting with all his might. “I would not give you away. Not for anything.”
“Then why did you want to talk to me?” Adrien grit out from behind clenched teeth. He’d suppressed his cries, but one wrong move and he’d collapse to his knees. He wasn’t sure if it would be out of fear or relief, either.
Willy pressed a gentle kiss to Adrien’s forehead before he stepped away and returned to his chair.
“I am not always the bearer of bad news, you know.” Willy returned his cup to his hand and took a long drink. He waited for Adrien to sit back down before he continued⸺which he did, apprehensively. “The war, as you know it, is expected to end soon.”
Adrien furrowed his brows. “How do you know that?”
Willy gave him a harsh look that told him to keep his comments to himself. “I just do,” he said, flat. Willy took another drink before continuing. “When the time comes, I plan to offer my support towards the Paradis Island Operation. In the meantime, we will be left waiting for the right moment to make any announcements about such things.” He paused to gauge Adrien’s reaction, but he was met with a calm replication of his own mien. “I want you to be with me when I attend meetings.”
Adrien pondered that for a moment before saying, “I won’t do you any good.” He picked up a fork and twirled it between his fingers. “I don’t understand politics in the same way that you do. I’d go so far as to say that I don’t understand politics in general.”
“You’re good with people,” Willy argued, leaning forward onto his elbows. “You know how to appeal to them, make them see things your way. I admire that about you. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but it is true. I might not agree with your methods on how you persuade, but you have a talent that doesn’t come naturally to most people.”
“It comes naturally to you,” Adrien whispered, pausing his twirling of the fork to watch if Willy had heard him.
“ We are not like most people, Addy.”
Adrien shrugged his shoulder in silent agreement.
“You don't necessarily have to partake in political talks, but you are the one I trust to help me gather support for our family,” Willy said.
Adrien felt like his brother was buttering him up. Willy was making him feel good about himself and the way he dealt with things so he would help him in the long run. And for what? His political agenda. It was a stupid thing to consider, but Adrien was curious. And there was never a time where his curiosity hadn’t gotten him into trouble.
So he asked.
“What do you want me to do?”