Nauleth waited listlessly on the sofa in the sitting room of his family's guest house, hoping that he could stand to lay there long enough and let enough time pass for everyone else to be asleep. Or at least for everyone else to think that he was sleeping. Once he felt like there had been a long enough silence from the two rooms, the boy slipped carefully out from under his blankets and walked as quietly as he could to the back door in the kitchen. There were a few old creaky places in the floor along the way, but he hoped that no one noticed he was making a brief escape.

Pausing to button back up his shirt and make a half-hearted effort to tuck it back in, Naul slipped his shoes on and let his suspenders remain hanging uselessly at his knees. He didn't bother with his coat or vest again. Before opening the door, he pulled back his hair, going so far as to tuck his white-streaked bangs behind his ear. There was nothing he could do to hide the physical reminders of his accident, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to. His family hadn't seen him since then, anyway.

With barely a sound, the boy slid out the door and crossed the expanse of lawn between the guest house and his own home. Once again, he snuck in the servant entrance, finding it unlocked and unoccupied. Leaving his shoes at the door, he paused again once inside, closing his eyes and slowly breathing in all that he remembered to be the familiar smells of home. It had been a long time. He had missed it, and yet he had no idea how to express exactly what he longed for.

Walking in barefoot silence through kitchen and into the hall, Naul didn't bother to knock once he found himself standing outside the study door. He knew that by the time he was this close, surely his father would be aware of his field. He couldn't hide it. If nothing else, the whole house should've been able to hear the dark-eyed boy's heart trying to escape his chest. What the clock was he doing? Hovering only briefly, he stared down at the sliver of warm light that crept from underneath the ornate wooden door and gathered up two years' worth of unspoken thoughts, fears, and anxieties.

He sighed.

He was probably going to regret this.

This was clocking stupid.

Clenching his teeth, Nauleth put a shaky hand on the knob and stepped inside, closing the door behind him once he crossed the threshold and onto the cold hardwood floor of the study. He cleared his throat and slowly drew his hand away, sliding both of them into his pockets and straightening his posture. He did his best not to look terrified as he let his dark eyes sweep the room before falling on the back of his father's head from his seat in his stuffy office chair.

"Hello, father."

Hadrian had guessed that something was up when he'd seen Athrym's explosion of light a few hours before. He hadn't known then what it meant but the fact that the dogs were still roaming about as calmly as cows in a meadow had been a hint. He'd recognised his son's field as soon as he felt it. It was calmer now but it still had the same edge as always.

The moment their field's touched it always hurt, like an arrow through his heart. He couldn't remember a time when it had not been like this.

"Hello Nauleth." His father said in reply. "Why are you...?"

Hadrian had almost asked why Nauleth was not at Brunnhold. He'd been contemplating telling the boy that he had not been expecting him to be capable of shaming his family even more than he had. He was stopped by the sight of the young man in front of him. With his burning eyes and braced jaw so very familiar, he was yet a stranger. One side of his face seemed less clenched than the other. Even the way he held himself of was other than what he was expecting.

He barely recognised his own son.

"You could have at least worn a jacket." He said softly.

Nauleth smirked lopsidedly as he felt his father's eyes linger on his changed features. Part of him wanted to blurt out how much it hurt to repair his damaged nerves, to describe how excruciating it was to be awake under the judgmental gaze of the doctors two years ago, to tell the older galdor how the boy had waited for even the harshest words from either of his parents that never came. Instead, he met Hadrian's surprised gaze with what calmness he could muster.

"I brought one." He replied, but it was not an angry retort. It just was. He probably should have made a better effort to tuck in his shirt, but it was too late for that now. He didn't particularly feel like he had an impression to make anymore.

He shrugged, barefoot on the cold wood floor of the study, and let a little silence hang as his hands formed clenched fists in his trouser pockets. Naul approached the over-stuffed leather chair across from his father's desk, the chair he had last sat in two years ago. Leaning on it, he spoke again quietly, with obvious restraint, "I didn't get kicked out of school, if that's what you're asking."

"I came to see the Circus. With a girl." His face hinted at a smile, but he was incapable of bringing it to fruition in front of the politician.

"I wanted to make sure it was okay. Here. I heard about the riot." The boy stopped, looking at his father in a way that implied that he was at once genuinely worried and yet totally pissed off that he had to hear second-hand.

Hadrian brought his chin up. Beneath the desk he was sitting behind, his feet drew together. He centered himself.

"I'm glad to see you haven't completely wasted away your education yet." He said dryly, drinking in the sight of his prodigal. "As you can see, all is well. Your mother is fine and asleep in her room."

There was a silent warning not to wake her.

"A girl, you say?" He said, voice quieter and more wondering. "I hope you haven't left her outside and away from hospitality, run away or not."

Hadrian found himself wanting to meet this young lady.

Nauleth recalled his sister's words, remembering how she taunted him about their mother's decision not to come after his accident. Whether or not she was simply saying things to hurt him back then, he knew that at this moment, he wouldn't have anything to say to her even if she were awake.

The boy slid his hands from his pockets, leaning his elbows on the back of the chair and lacing his long, thin fingers together in the empty space between himself and his father. Some of his white-streaked bangs fell from their precarious place behind his left ear, but he did not bother to move them. He let some more of a slight smile turn up the right side of his face, a little tension draining from his shoulders, "Athrym. She's old Bruthgrave's daughter."

The dark-eyed boy's tone of voice could've easily been mistaken for boastful, had he not been intimidated by the aquiline gaze of the older galdor in front of him.

He knew the name would entertain his father (if only because the politician really did pride himself in knowing everyone worth knowing in Vienda). He added without hiding an edge of rebellious humor on his voice, "I still had my key to the guesthouse. She's also asleep."

Naul did not feel the need to mention the other four students sharing the guesthouse with the two of them; he was not in the mood for explaining how he went from antisocial bully to reluctant ringleader. Mostly because he wouldn't be able to if he tried.

"We won't stay long, and I won't leave a mess." He offered almost placatingly, anticipating trouble for staying unannounced and almost in secret, "We'll be skipping class tomorrow to head back. It probably won't be pretty, but the Circus was quite brilliant." The boy's smile faded, "Nadia and Nicias would've loved it."

Hadrian's eyes rose. Bruthgrave, hmm? Naul had learned to make influential friends. He was surprised the girl would have anything to do with his son, after all that he had been through. He wondered if his son was being strung along and his gut lurched unpleasantly.

"Staying in the guest house? I hope you are both being careful." There was a mild stress easing into his voice. A chlid out of wedlock was the last thing Nauleth needed.

He drew himself up a little.

"I doubt it would be wise to have your siblings socialising around the lower races. It would give them poor ideas about the role of their class." He stood up, resisting the urge to stretch. "I hope you at least fed your young lady friend."

The distance between them stretched out awkwardly and it was all Hadrian could do not to look away.

Ah, there it goes. Damn it.

Naul watched a bit of his window of opportunity wane in the harsh shadows across his father's face. He sighed, shaking his head.

"It's not like that. I-I'm not entirely uncivilized ... nor an idiot." He sneered a little, dissatisfied with the current assumptions that hung in the air of the study, but not necessarily willing to spend the effort it would take to change them. There were things he wouldn't mind, of course, but the boy had apparently discovered he had just as much a capability of being understanding as of being cruel – if he chose to apply himself, at least.

Nauleth shrugged, studying the politician through his bangs, wondering if the man finally wanted him to leave, "I didn't make the choice to come here for small talk." He was serious, and the normal malice that hung on the edge of his voice was missing, "Two years is a long time. To say nothing. You know?"

Hadrian walked out from behind his desk, focusing on putting one foot forward at a time. He was almost feeling overcome by vertigo. If he hadn't kept one hand loosely on his desk he was sure he would have fallen down. Restraint of sorts, from his son. It was almost disheartening to realise how much he had not expected it.

"It is indeed." Hadrian said, trying to draw out the moments that would come before their inevitable fight. "We shall talk then, follow me."

Hadrian started to walk out into the main hall, assuming Nauleth was following. He didn't want his son to see his face for a moment. Hearing that voice free of anger, even momentarily, was enough to shatter him. He almost couldn't remember a time before Naul's silent, violent rage. There had been when he was small but that was so long ago. He'd had no part in healing that. He wondered if the younger Bruthgrave had.

He kept moving, leading them towards the kitchen.

Naul huffed at his bangs, surprised but not angry, and let his feelings of slight confusion creep across his face, one side at a time. What was that tangible feeling in his father's field? It was new, different, something. It might have been concern.

The boy leaned up from the chair without a word of protest, separating his hands by unlacing his fingers and sliding them back into his pockets. He stared curiously at the older galdor's back as he turned to follow him, hems of his trousers scuffing on the polished floors as he padded along on bare feet. As they passed various rooms, Naul did his best not to look in them. Being home was already strange enough.

He reached a hand out from his pocket and ran it along the textured wallpaper of the dark hallway, fingers tracing the design as they walked.

Sometimes, he missed home.

"There must be cake."

The dark-eyed boy whispered mischievously to break the silence as they neared the kitchen, still behind the politician, knowing immediately where they were headed down the hall. He grinned a little, but he knew Hadrian couldn't see him.

Hadrian almost laughed, startled by the single-minded way his son had latched on to the thought of sweets. Teenagers, always hungry, no matter how much you threw at them. Even the girls, although they'd hide it and try to diet it away. He hoped Nadia was eating well.

"Yes, there is cake. You should take some to Miss Buthgrave." Hadrian said as they entered into the kitchen.

The tiles were cold beneath his thin slippers. He almost didn't stop walking at all. He nearly kept on, going past the large stove, through the side entrance and far off into the trees beyond. If he stopped they were going to have to face up to this conversation. Hadrian was a brave and principled man, he worked hard to maintain their standing, their lifestyle and provide for his family and servants. He vainly thought that Alioe owed him a night off from that. Hadn't he done enough? Did he really have to fix this as well?

He pulled the cake from the pantry. It was banana gateau with lemon frosting.

"What do you wish to talk about?" He asked as he went looking for a knife. He told himself it was not a cowardly thing to ask and that the answer was not as obvious as it truly was.

Nauleth eyed the cake with obvious interest, but he dropped all pretenses in his expression otherwise. Leaning against the closest counter, both hands back in his pockets, curled into nervous fists, he sighed. It took a lot to meet his father's eyes, but he did so with no small amount of trepidation.

"You know what I want to talk about."

He did not bother to hide two years of hurt from his voice, but his words were so very far from angry. He wanted to be furious; he really did. He wanted to unleash all that he had spent so long in containing. He'd probably dreamed about all the possible things he could say to his father after his accident in so many various scenarios.

Unfortunately, all of them paled in comparison to finally standing in the reality.

After Edguard's harsh words on the Lawn, after all that happened that last week of Intas, and after all that he had accepted about the way he might really feel for Athrym, Nauleth found himself disinterested in being angry. It was almost disorienting. The boy wasn't sure if he wanted answers more than cake, for he was only slightly afraid of the answer.

"Why didn't you come? To see me ... after everything ... even just to yell at me?"

Hadrian cut a few slices, putting one on a plate in front of Nauleth and wrapping the numerous others in wax paper.

"Would it have helped?" He said softly, though firmly. "You were always in trouble at school, always causing problems for the other children. Problems that their parents were well informed of. Talking to you did nothing, it only ever seemed to spur you onto worse acts."

He sat down, looking his son in the eye. Nauleth could see all his years upon his face. There was weariness there and confusion and love.

"When you brailed... It was the final straw. You managed to alienate your family, your classmates and even the mona itself. We were tired Nauleth." He sighed and it seemed to take over his entire body. "We didn't think you would even stand to see us and what would we have done if we had? Nothing we could say could reach you then."

He wasn't sure if the same was true now.

The boy listened, moving only once to sit down with his cake across from the politician. He poked at it, but didn't eat a bite while the older galdor spoke. It was true. Not some of it. Not most of it. All of it. For whatever reason, Naul couldn't shake the memory of Bronley's disturbed face in the Infirmary, begging for something cruel simply because the student thought he knew who the dark-eyed boy was inside. He didn't, but the outside was obviously not that far off.

He scowled, yet it was not at what he heard from his father. Looking down at a particularly tasty looking bit of banana, he sighed, too. It was just as mental as it was physical, and had anyone been watching, it would have been comical in its family resemblance.

"No. You're right. It wouldn't have mattered then." Naul admitted with quiet defeat, not looking up, "But still. Two years? Don't tell me you were waiting on me. You've made your choices, so I know part of you hasn't been." He was referring to Siduri, of course, but it was with a distant tone of voice.

"Honestly, nothing much has made a difference in a long time."

He ate a bite of cake thoughtfully before looking up to his father's face. He spoke his thoughts without really thinking; they just poured out like so much water under a bridge, "I just ... turned it all off, I guess. Studying because I was good at it. Being angry because I didn't know how else to feel. Until recently. Things happened. Lots of things. And now I have to do something. Something different. Anything." He looked back at the cake, no longer afraid to be honest, "But it's probably too late to really change anyway."

Hadrian sat in silence for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He'd hired Siduri because he'd been planning to all along, he liked the younger man. He didn't know how to explain that it had been easier to stick to his convictions than compromise to please his son. He was not sure he would ever regret his choice. Siduri was a good worker and he'd deserved his second chance.

Hadrian hadn't known what to do for Nauleth, so he'd done nothing.

"I don't know Nauleth." He said quietly. "Time moves away from you and the more that has passed the more difficult it becomes. I wanted to..."

How could he word it without breaking down and becoming maudlin? He was a Siordanti, he suffered, he was a leader. There was no room for weakeness, it was an example he'd tried to leave for his children.

"I wanted to fix things but I couldn't see how to do it." He admitted, feeling old and in pain. "I thought you might be happier without us. You hadn't been happy here in a very long time. Perhaps your 'something different' will be what you were meant for."

He turned away slightly, it was like surrender and he hated it.

The boy smirked through his cake, but didn't look up right away, "I didn't say that to imply I want to work for you. I don't. I never did. Approval is separate from employment, and I might be able to say I understand that. Now."

Naul set his fork down and put his palms on the table. He didn't have too many pleasant memories of family dinner. He was usually in trouble, usually waiting for Hadrian to come home, and usually disinterested in behaving like he was sorry. There were a few memories that were nice, however.

Looking up, he spoke quietly. It was uncanny how he couldn't really bring himself to be angry about anything. All that time, anticipating, only to find himself incapable of anything but a strange calmness, "I don't know if I miss home or not. Sometimes, I do."

As surprisingly well as this conversation was going, as beyond the boy's expectations as this was, it was strange how he could still be uncomfortable. This was very much out of his comfort zone - things going so well, that is - but it was still a pleasantly moving experience.

"I hope my 'something different' happens soon. I've been watching graduation approach and I don't think I'll have anything to show for it. Recently, I had a-er-a tutor remind me that I stand on the cusp of wasting my education in favor of ..."

He scowled, "Well, you know. In favor of being myself."

"I guess I still have time to figure things out. I just. I just felt like you should know. It's not the same. I'm not the same. Mostly."

Hadrian placed his arms on the table top and leant on them. Some of the old parts of his son were clearly there.

"Nauleth, I don't think that being angry is who you are. You just use it so you don't have to ponder whatever else that bothers you." Hadrian had a similar strategy with a different emotion. "There's so much you could do, I would have rathered that one of those hadn't been running off to see the circus but you've always done things by your own time."



Hadrian pushed himself upright a little more. Nauleth was taller now. It was still strange to see the way his face flickered through expressions, painful. He looked half way to an adult and Hadrian regretted having missed part of that.

"I can see that." He said quietly.

"Coming to the Circus wasn't for me. It was for her." Naul stared at his now empty plate and knew he couldn't fight the color that rose to his pale cheeks, "I'm sure that if I had said no, if I had said I didn't want to go, that we wouldn't be here at all." At least, he wondered if that were true, "Forth form we had our first class together. Considering I always sit in the back, I doubt she knows that. I highly doubted we'd ever talk. Then ... Well, yeah." He let a small smile creep across his embarrassed features, "Here we are."

The boy looked up, letting a hand stray from the table to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, "I know that there'll be consequences when we get back to Brunnhold, but I'm okay with that. I don't expect anything less, and I'm willing to take responsibility ... From where I'm sitting tonight, whatever happens will have been worth it."

Naul did not mean the Circus. He might have meant Athrym. But as he stared across the table at his father, he really mostly meant this moment.

Hadrian decided that he wasn't going to argue it. He'd done some stupid things back when he'd met Nauleth's mother and he'd not regretted a one since.

"Well, they can't do too much to you. You aren't the first to run away to Vienda for a day. They may cut you two off for a while for propriety's sake but it won't last." He coughed into his hand, standing now. "I hope you continue to consider her honour throughout this venture."

He walked into the pantry and came back with a bag of foodstuffs, some bread and cheese among other things.

"Take this with you, young people are always hungry." He said, telling himself he didn't mind Nauleth going.

Naul appreciated his father's well-masked reluctance; it was revealing enough despite the man's well-practiced efforts at hiding emotions. The boy had learned to see through such things at home; he understood they were necessary given his occupation in the government. Hugging the politician would have been way uncalled for at this venture, but maybe that time would come again. Down the road.

He stood in recognition that this was his dismissal.

The boy let his hands brush Hadrian's as he took the bag in subtle emotional appreciation, "Thanks." He smiled wanly, voice full of expectant implication, "I'll wear a jacket next time, sir."

He made it to the archway between the kitchen and the hall before he turned, speaking with an obvious hesitance. This was the totally unrehearsed part of all his imaginary conversations with the older galdor. This was the part he told himself he'd never, ever say out loud. This was the part where he was always willing to let his pride get in the way and keep him angry. This was breaking with every convention, "I'm sorry. I'm sure I've embarrassed you in ways I won't pretend to understand ... I-I needed this."

I needed you.

Naul bit his lip awkwardly before turning and slipping away without another word. He was too afraid to wait for a response, and he found himself walking in rushed silence back down the hall and toward the servant entrance and his shoes, heart pounding in his chest.

The cool of the late night was refreshing once he stumbled outside and closed the door quietly behind him, leaning against it briefly with a relieved kind of smile. Maybe things could change after all.

He felt different. He felt better.

((continued from slumberparty))

Breathing in the night air, she enjoyed the crisp coolness on her bare arms. Looking around the gardens, she noticed something they had missed before. It appeared to be a quiet, nicely manicured little area inside a low hedge, obviously for outdoor entertaining. Making her way across the grass with barefeet, she stopped and sat down cross legged, looking up at the stars and around the yard. It was genuinely a nice place.

Walking away from the house was like walking on fluffy clouds. The sky was lovely and clear, stars all distracting and bright outside the city limits. The grass was already beginning to be blanketed in dew in anticipation of a morning that was only a handful of hours away. Naul was light headed, lost in relieved thoughts, bag of food over one shoulder, other hand in his pocket as usual. He had no idea the level of stupid contentment his grin implied, but he might have been shocked had he seen himself in a mirror.

The boy wasn't entirely in a hurry, but he was beginning to feel the return of fatigue from a day of traveling and an exciting evening on barely any sleep. He also felt a twinge of guilt for sneaking away and not telling Athrym his intentions. He had sort of secluded himself (mostly out of nervousness over his decision to speak to his father at all) as soon as they arrived.

He was just considering how regretful the situation was when he noticed that the pretty, young object of his thoughts was right there. Sitting in the clocking garden. In her pajamas.

I. Am. So. Busted.

Shirt untucked. Hair pulled back. Suspenders ridiculously at his knees. A mysterious bag over his shoulder. Was he robbing the place or making a break for it? It was hard to tell.

Brilliant, as usual.

His smile faded a little, mostly out of guilt, and he changed his course from a direct route towards the guest house to the detour of the back garden. He'd built amazing forts there, over winter holidays past, and they had always ended with one of his siblings crying over a lost snowball fight.

Naul slowed his pace and cleared his throat, hoping to make his approach as subtly obvious as possible. If there was to be any frustration at his sneaking out, the boy secretly wondered if he could handle it at a distance before gently closing in.

Athrym heard the sound, and lowered her gaze quickly, looking up at the approaching figure. For a moment, she felt a little thrill of terror, who was this man? Then as he came closer she saw, it was Nauleth. He looked different. With his clothes like this and his hair pulled back she realized, it made him look older. Watching him with narrowed blue eyes, she pursed her lips.

"What the clock were you doing? I came looking for you, but you weren't there." She said softly, meaning the couch. Sitting forward, she brushed off her hands and tucked her fringe behind her ear.

"I went to speak to my father." Naul said with quiet honesty, his voice somehow managing to carry his unburdened enthusiasm for how things felt at least a little more resolved. He offered an apologetic smile, stepping closer but not sitting down, "I should've told you, but I was afraid ... I'm sorry. It was–"

He bit his lip, feeling suddenly more guilty now that he was actually in Athrym's presence, "It was one of my reasons for staying here in the first place."

Removing his hand from his pocket and holding it up, palm facing her, the dark-eyed boy anticipated her reaction, adding in gentle earnest, "We're not in trouble. We don't have to leave." The smile that slowly crept across his face was unlike any other, "It was necessary." Naul knew that probably sounded mysterious, but it was the best he could do. It was true. He didn't know any other way to express himself.

He sighed, and tilted his head coyly at the girl, totally changing the subject, "What the clock are you doing out here? You were looking for me?"

Athrym looked up at him, leaning back on her hands again so she wasn't craning her neck. She could hear the change in his voice, he sounded happier. But he went and told his dad they were there? Why would he turn them in like...



She let out a little breath of relief, at least now if anyone came snooping it wouldn't be a shock. The girl found his last comment peculiar and the smile was strange. Something had really happened between him and his dad, something good it seemed.



Smirking, she looked down at her outstretched bare feet. Her ankle wasn't visible in the dark, he had barely even hurt coming over here. But she knew she'd pay for it in the morning, ah but it was so worth it. Thinking for a moment, she looked up at him again.

"I just wanted to...well...so far, its been so hectic I haven't had a chance to...and when we get back to school, I don't know what's going to happen." She blushed.

"I waited for you inside, but the others started coming out and I really just wanted to be alone. With you." Her eyes looked away again, rather embarrassed at her words and herself.

Naul blinked and felt the need to sit down. So he did. Setting down the non-emotional emotional collection of pantry goods from his father, the boy sat down next to the blond. He was close to her, hand brushing her arm as he brought his knees up and rested his wrists on them, lacing his fingers together.

"Everyone's awake? That'll make for a rough morning." He frowned a little, but he couldn't hide in his suddenly nervous tone of voice that he was simply making conversation for its own sake.

He stared at her bare feet. She had cute toes.

The boy sighed, glancing away to look at Athrym's face in the dark, "Well. We're outside. And alone. And stuff."

Way to go. Very witty.

"Besides how much trouble we're probably in when we get back ... is there something on your mind?" Naul tried not to sound too mischievous, but he failed. It was totally taunting, but in a warmly curious way.