( Bruce breathes out slowly as the other looks up at him, and a part of is relieved that this is all the show of force he needs to make. He's seen how others have reacted at the hands of his soldiers, how they resist and find themselves at the end of strength they can never compete with. This one, at least, has enough self-preservation not to argue or fight.
Slowly, his hand slips away, but he keeps the other pinned under his gaze for a few, long seconds. )
I'll ask you again. Do you need a healer? ( He reaches out, curving his hand around one of the thin arms to lead Miyano forward. His free hand reaches out, pushing aside the heavy flap of his tent to usher the other inside. )
[This time Miyano shakes his head hard, immediately, forces out the words in a small voice --] N-No, sir, I'm f-fine. [Physically, it's true; by some blessing of the gods, he's only shaken up and a bit bruised.
Then again, the gods had saved him only to deliver him into the hands of the enemy. Miyano stumbles into the tent, looking around briefly before forcing his gaze to his feet. He won't let curiosity make him lower his guard, he'll remain wary and cautious. The temple may be in ruins, but he can still behave like a faithful acolyte would.]
What...are you going to do to me? [It comes out barely above a whisper, Miyano's eyes fixed on his bare, bruised feet.[
( When the answer comes, Bruce only nods. He gives Miyano a nudge to urge him deeper into the tent before he steps around him. His attention is distracted for just a moment in favor of removing his helmet to set it aside, a quiet sigh leaving him to feel the air against his skin instead of the cool steel.
The inside of the tent isn't anything particularly extravagant - a well cushioned bed roll, a small table that had been at one point covered in maps and other documents. A chest with his armor and other weapons. Another table with a bowl of water and a cloth that Bruce makes his way to now, dipping the cloth into the water before turning to make his way back to Miyano. )
I haven't decided yet. ( One hand reaches out, curving around the back of the teen's neck to hold him still as the other reaches up with the cloth, wiping the dirt and grime from his face. ) What skills do you have?
( An acolyte can at least read and write, he muses. And as he wipes clean the other's face, he reminds himself that he could, if nothing else, find a more intimate use for him. )
O-Oh. [Truthfully, Miyano had expected the enemy king to immediately strike him down, assuming he's full of violent, uncontrollable bloodlust. Being brought into the man's private tent, held still and cleaned is...odd. Why would him being dirty or not matter?
The question has him jumping to answer, not wanting to anger the enemy when he was so close, his hand so large on Miyano's delicate neck.] U-Um, I can r-read and write a-and cook a little. Sir.
( As he thought, then. He hasn't met an Acolyte who was entirely useless yet.
Bruce nods at what he's been told, gentle in the way he tips Miyano's face from one side to the other two continue wiping away the dirt and grime. ) And your name? ( He prompts as he continues, one brow lifting slowly.
Under all that dirt and distress this acolyte is... Attractive. Beautiful in the softness of his face and youth. There's a fleeting thought that he could get used to waking up every morning to those big brown eyes and the gentleness of his voice.
But instead of entertaining that thought, he slips his hands away and turns to head towards some of his own belongings. )
Take off your robes.
( The colors of a fallen kingdom will only draw attention among the sea of darkness that is his own army, after all. )
[A part of Miyano wants to relax into the gentle touch to his face, fearful and exhausted and just wanting comfort. It seems even the comfort of the enemy would do.]
I--It's Miyano, sir. Um. S-Some of the other acolytes would, uh, call me "Miya".
[It's strange, to share something so intimate with the enemy. His breath catches at the command, though, hands going instinctively to where his white robe ties at his neck.] S-Sir? [It comes out in a squeak as Miya tries to buy time, to pretend he hadn't understood the command.]
I'm King Bruce Wayne. You can call me Bruce in private.
( He says it easily over one shoulder before turning his attention forward to move a few folded garments around on the table they're sitting on. It's only when he finds one - a dark, smooth silk button down - that he glances back, arching a brow at the teen. )
Take off your robes. ( He says again, turning to make his way back towards Miyano with the shirt in his hands. ) You'll draw too much attention. You'll wear this for now. ( It's much too big for Miyano, he knows that, but it'll be long enough to cover the important parts. And the both of them will be wrapped in his cloak for the ride. No one will have much of a chance to see him during their journey home. )
-- oh. [Miyano isn't sure what he expected. Sonething befitting the scandalous rumors that he'd caught bits and pieces of, that the barbarian warrior enemies are like wild beasts, all unrestrained urges and carnal lusts. Part of him had expected to be...ravished or something.
And he's completely relieved that he won't be. Of course. It'd be ridiculous to feel even a tinge of disappointment.
So Miya starts untying his (by now ragged and grimy) robe, letting it slide off his shoulders and unwind from around his waist. He doesn't mention that his appearance won't be hidden much by the robes -- he's too pale, too small, too clearly foreign.
He just obeys, slowly folding his robe over one arm and hesitantly reaching for the shirt. Despite the rumors, he's strangely unembarrassed about being unclothed -- there was no reason to feel excess modesty in the shrine. If there were any illicit affairs, Miyano wasn't privy to them, so there's an innocence in his wide eyes.]
( The shirt might not hide the rest of Miyano with features that are distinctly different and softer than the people of Gotham, but he doesn't have to worry someone will be drawn to white robes among the sea of black.
Bruce, for his part, is polite. He glances away as Miyano disrobes, and once the fabric leaves his hands, he reaches instead to take the robes. He turns away with the robes in his hands, making his way to one of his chests to fold it and tuck it away. It's a good distraction from the desire to stare at every bit of the acolyte's skin, to take in the soft beauty of him. )
You're welcome. ( He waits a moment for Miyano to dress before he turns back to look at him, letting out a soft huff of a laugh at how big it is on the small frame. )
When we reach the manor, you'll have a chance to clean up properly. We'll find more appropriate clothing for you then.
[Miyano glances up from where he'd been rolling up the sleeves of the too-big garment, face caught off-guard, eyes wide.] The...manor? [His voice is small, unsure. Logically, he'd known Bruce would take him back, but he hadn't ever assumed he'd go to the enemy king's actual home.
But then he quickly lowers his head, cheeks flaming red. Better not to seem too familiar, too presumptuous. Bruce probably wanted to put him to work as a servant or something.] I-I mean, of course, s-sir. Whatever you want.
( Miyano must still think Bruce is taking him away for a life of servitude or worse. And while he hasn't entirely decided what he wants to do with him, he's long since decide it won't be anything less than his position as an Acolyte.
He steps closer, reaching out to help him roll the too long sleeves. ) I have plenty of servants and soldiers. You'll live in the manor with me and the others, the scholars and advisors, until I decide what you'll be doing permanently.
( Sleeves rolled up, Bruce finds himself curiously sliding his hand under one of Miyano's, feeling the weight of it. Comparing how small and delicate it is in his own. The blue eyes flick up to Miyano's face, one brow arched. ) Is there something specific you might want to do at the manor?
( He turns Miyano's hand gently, gazing down at it once more. ) You can assist the scholars, work in the stables, assist the advisors or accountants, work for any of my sons. ( His gaze turns back up to Miyano's face. ) Become my consort and bride. ( How casually he says it makes it almost impossible to tell if he's joking or not. )
[Miya's breath catches softly in his throat at the shockingly gentle touch, the careful way that Bruce rolls up the too-long sleeves. He's surprisingly delicate in his movement, so unlike what the acolyte's been led to believe of any and all members of the enemy army, much less the leader of them. His hand is huge, rough and warm as it curls around Miyano's. The king's power is unmistakable, impossible to deny.
But Miya isn't nearly as scared as he should be. His slender, pale hand is swallowed up in Bruce's, but he doesn't think to cringe away. Instead he just blinks upwards, eyes wide and honey-colored and innocent.]
Become your -- y-your what? [Obviously the idea of the rest of those options is puzzling, but Miya is positive he'd misheard that last part. Such a thing would be impossible. Right?]
( As Bruce watches Miyano, he's certain the acolyte must be coming to terms with how different he is compared to what the acolytes and their people must have been taught. He's heard many of the stories other lands have been taught, heard the whispers among his men. He's supposed to be some dark, violent figure that strikes from the shadows without mercy, consuming everything around him without remorse. And yet here he is, tending to Miyano as if he's a precious thing to be protected.
His touch stays soft and gentle, thumb brushing over the back of the small hand. How long has it been since he's held someone so soft and innocent in his arms? )
My consort and bride. ( He repeats easily, blue eyes meeting the honey colored gaze. ) You have time to think about what you'd like to do on the ride home.
( He can hear a few of the soldiers outside calling out to prepare to tear down the last of the tents. And finally, he steps away, releasing Miyano's hand to gather up a couple of his cloaks. He offers one to Miyano, the material dark and heavy, surely enough to swallow the young man whole. )
Oh. [It seems to be a vast understatement, because nothing about that makes sense. The fact that he isn't dead yet doesn't make sense, actually. Nothing about Bruce does -- he's huge and powerful and looms over Miyano like a vengeful god. But he's impossibly gentle, careful, every touch softer than anything the young man's ever known.
He takes the cloak without thinking, almost dropping it when he actually feels the weight. The cloth is richer and more ornate than anything he's ever touched, and it feels comforting around his shoulders, chasing off some of the chill. Miya fastens the cloak, tugs up the hood, one hand staying in place to keep it from covering his face entirely. He means to ask something about where he should travel, if there's a wagon or if he should walk, but instead what comes out is:] You'd want me? To -- be that? Me?
( The cloak might as well weight nothing in Bruce's hands. He lifts his quickly and pulls it across his shoulders smoothly, does the ties up in the front to keep it from loosening. All the while, he keeps his gaze on Miyano, watching the way the dark fabric seems to engulf him.
It'll definitely be enough to hide him on the ride home and keep him warm the closer they get to the kingdom.
He steps closer to Miyano, reaching out to put a hand on the small of his back to urge him forward with a small push. )
Is there a reason why you think I shouldn't?
( Reaching out, he pulls the flap of his tent open to lead the other out. He steers them in the direction of his horse - the large, dark steed standing taller than the rest of the horses and soldiers gathered near it. )
[Miyano stumbles a little at the push, gentle as it is, then instinctively leans against Bruce as they step outside. He's anxious about the soldiers -- or even other captives -- seeing him and musing about why he's wearing the king's clothing. Sort of a strange thing to worry about, considering they're talking about him becoming the man's bride.
Swallowing hard, Miyano glances up sideways at Bruce, feeling how warm and solid and immovable he is. Even if he tried, would he truly be able to resist? Would he truly want to?]
W-Well, I'm not...very impressive to look at, a-and I can't really do anything. I don't really know how, um...how useful I'd be.
( Bruce steers Miyano towards his waiting horse, and the soldiers around them barely glance at the pair of them. Some of his own sons had been in Miyano's position before - welcomed into the kingdom after the fall of their own. The idea isn't quite so strange to them, after all.
Though he supposes propositioning an Acolyte is much different than adopting them. )
You were useful enough to be kept as an Acolyte. ( Once they reach his horse, he turns to face Miyano. ) You were impressive enough for me to make the offer, Miyano.
( He offers a small smirk before he reaches out, easily lifting Miyano to help him onto the large horse. )
[Miyano shrugs a little, ducking his head unconsciously as they pass the soldiers, hurrying to keep up with Bruce's strides.] I suppose. I was a foundling, though, they were sort of...duty-bound to keep me? I guess?
[Then he wonders, frantically, if this counts as arguing, looking up at Bruce for a moment, eyes wide and earnest.] N-Not that I'm, um. Questioning your judgement, sir. If that's what...what you want, then I'll do my best, I promise. [He's about to say more, but then he's very, very easily lifted onto a horse, and he clams up immediately, clinging onto the horse's mane for dear life.]
( One dark brown goes up curiously as he watches the way Miyano clings to the horse.
The horse doesn't seem particularly concerned with the attention, standing tall and looking forward with nothing more than a twitch of one dark ear.
For a moment, he simply watches Miyano before he moves to pull himself easily onto the horse's back, settling into the saddle and taking the reigns. )
It's your decision. ( He leans forward, reaching around the teen to curve his hand carefully around the smaller one to ease it out of the dark mane. ) Don't make it because you think it will make me happy. Make it because you think it'll make you happy.
-- ah, sorry. [Miyano is blushing now, both from the realization that he's been clinging to the horse, and from how big and warm and solid Bruce is behind him. He quickly lets go of the horse's mane, looking down at the huge hand covering his.] I'm not used to, uh...riding horses.
[Obviously.
Nor is he used to being asked what he wants. That much is evident in the confused way he glances backwards at Bruce, from under the edge of his hood, head tilted.] You...want me to be happy?
( Slowly, Bruce pulls his hand away, instead moving to wind his arm around Miyano to tug him back and against the solid weight of his own chest. )
You'll get used to it.
( His attention is pulled towards the sound of another horse trotting past them, one of the soldiers with a dark helmet that gleams red pulling in front of them. There's a quick exchange between them before the soldier pulls further in front of them to wait. )
It'll only be for a few hours. I'll be here with you the whole time. ( His hands move, carefully arranging the cloak around Miyano to ensure he's covered and safe from the cold before properly wrapping an arm around him and giving the reigns a tug. The horse makes a soft huff before he starts forward, a few other soldiers on their horses walking alongside them as they go.
Once they're on their way properly and the soldiers around them have spaced out around them, he turns his attention back to Miyano. )
We're not the monsters most people seem to think we are. If I wanted you to be unhappy, I would have left you to die back there.
[Part of Miyano is glad that Bruce is distracted by speaking with the strange soldier, because the instant he's pulled back against the king's warm, firm chest, he sort of forgets how to breathe. Which is absurd, he's still in the company of the enemy, he shouldn't be anything but terrified and uneasy.
It's just -- Bruce is huge, every breath rippling the muscles of his chest, and Miya fits so neatly against him, enveloped in his presence. Like nothing and nobody could ever tear him away. It's safe and dizzying and Miyano finds himself gripping tightly at the robe wrapped around him to keep from holding onto Bruce instead.
Still, there's no harm in leaning back into the warm, protective embrace, right? Right. Miyano keeps his head ducked a bit, voice soft.]
I think I'm realizing you aren't, at all. It's...not what I was taught, but...I can't deny it, either.
( Having Miyano sitting so close, pressed against him, is distracting. Bruce can't help but think about how easily Miyano's small frame fits against his own larger one, what it might feel like to run his hands over the planes of his body. Only he reminds himself now isn't the time or place for such thoughts.
The journey home might not be a long one and made safer with some of his knights and soldiers surrounding him, but he's learned never to take silence and short journeys for granted. )
Fear is a strong weapon against others. Gothamites have learned to use it well.
( He tugs just a bit at Miyano's hood so he can try and find his face. )
Commander Todd ( he motions towards the knight with the gleaming dark red helmet ) was like you once, the last one standing among the ruins. I brought him home, and he's lived as my son and now one of my commanders since. It's been almost a decade now. There are a few others like you and him.
Oh! [Miyano turns to look at the soldier, impressed that someone not from Gotham had not only been raised as a son, but risen so high in the army's ranks. Then he ducks away, a bit shy still at the fact that he's held so close to the ruler. What must everyone be thinking? Did everyone else know Bruce's intentions for the acolyte?
Swallowing back his nerves, Miyano looks upwards again, pink-cheeked and doe-eyed.] But you -- want something different for me? Unless, um. You have other...consorts. [Not that the thought makes him jealous!!]
( The cool blue stare follows Miyano's attention to Jason, watching his adopted son for a moment before turning his attention back to the teen in his arms.
He takes in the sight of those big eyes and pink cheeks before he lifts his hand, gently tipping the other's chin up further. ) You would be the only one, Miyano.
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Slowly, his hand slips away, but he keeps the other pinned under his gaze for a few, long seconds. )
I'll ask you again. Do you need a healer? ( He reaches out, curving his hand around one of the thin arms to lead Miyano forward. His free hand reaches out, pushing aside the heavy flap of his tent to usher the other inside. )
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Then again, the gods had saved him only to deliver him into the hands of the enemy. Miyano stumbles into the tent, looking around briefly before forcing his gaze to his feet. He won't let curiosity make him lower his guard, he'll remain wary and cautious. The temple may be in ruins, but he can still behave like a faithful acolyte would.]
What...are you going to do to me? [It comes out barely above a whisper, Miyano's eyes fixed on his bare, bruised feet.[
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The inside of the tent isn't anything particularly extravagant - a well cushioned bed roll, a small table that had been at one point covered in maps and other documents. A chest with his armor and other weapons. Another table with a bowl of water and a cloth that Bruce makes his way to now, dipping the cloth into the water before turning to make his way back to Miyano. )
I haven't decided yet. ( One hand reaches out, curving around the back of the teen's neck to hold him still as the other reaches up with the cloth, wiping the dirt and grime from his face. ) What skills do you have?
( An acolyte can at least read and write, he muses. And as he wipes clean the other's face, he reminds himself that he could, if nothing else, find a more intimate use for him. )
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The question has him jumping to answer, not wanting to anger the enemy when he was so close, his hand so large on Miyano's delicate neck.] U-Um, I can r-read and write a-and cook a little. Sir.
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Bruce nods at what he's been told, gentle in the way he tips Miyano's face from one side to the other two continue wiping away the dirt and grime. ) And your name? ( He prompts as he continues, one brow lifting slowly.
Under all that dirt and distress this acolyte is... Attractive. Beautiful in the softness of his face and youth. There's a fleeting thought that he could get used to waking up every morning to those big brown eyes and the gentleness of his voice.
But instead of entertaining that thought, he slips his hands away and turns to head towards some of his own belongings. )
Take off your robes.
( The colors of a fallen kingdom will only draw attention among the sea of darkness that is his own army, after all. )
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I--It's Miyano, sir. Um. S-Some of the other acolytes would, uh, call me "Miya".
[It's strange, to share something so intimate with the enemy. His breath catches at the command, though, hands going instinctively to where his white robe ties at his neck.] S-Sir? [It comes out in a squeak as Miya tries to buy time, to pretend he hadn't understood the command.]
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I'm King Bruce Wayne. You can call me Bruce in private.
( He says it easily over one shoulder before turning his attention forward to move a few folded garments around on the table they're sitting on. It's only when he finds one - a dark, smooth silk button down - that he glances back, arching a brow at the teen. )
Take off your robes. ( He says again, turning to make his way back towards Miyano with the shirt in his hands. ) You'll draw too much attention. You'll wear this for now. ( It's much too big for Miyano, he knows that, but it'll be long enough to cover the important parts. And the both of them will be wrapped in his cloak for the ride. No one will have much of a chance to see him during their journey home. )
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And he's completely relieved that he won't be. Of course. It'd be ridiculous to feel even a tinge of disappointment.
So Miya starts untying his (by now ragged and grimy) robe, letting it slide off his shoulders and unwind from around his waist. He doesn't mention that his appearance won't be hidden much by the robes -- he's too pale, too small, too clearly foreign.
He just obeys, slowly folding his robe over one arm and hesitantly reaching for the shirt. Despite the rumors, he's strangely unembarrassed about being unclothed -- there was no reason to feel excess modesty in the shrine. If there were any illicit affairs, Miyano wasn't privy to them, so there's an innocence in his wide eyes.]
Um. Thank you, sir -- uh, Bruce.
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Bruce, for his part, is polite. He glances away as Miyano disrobes, and once the fabric leaves his hands, he reaches instead to take the robes. He turns away with the robes in his hands, making his way to one of his chests to fold it and tuck it away. It's a good distraction from the desire to stare at every bit of the acolyte's skin, to take in the soft beauty of him. )
You're welcome. ( He waits a moment for Miyano to dress before he turns back to look at him, letting out a soft huff of a laugh at how big it is on the small frame. )
When we reach the manor, you'll have a chance to clean up properly. We'll find more appropriate clothing for you then.
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But then he quickly lowers his head, cheeks flaming red. Better not to seem too familiar, too presumptuous. Bruce probably wanted to put him to work as a servant or something.] I-I mean, of course, s-sir. Whatever you want.
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( Miyano must still think Bruce is taking him away for a life of servitude or worse. And while he hasn't entirely decided what he wants to do with him, he's long since decide it won't be anything less than his position as an Acolyte.
He steps closer, reaching out to help him roll the too long sleeves. ) I have plenty of servants and soldiers. You'll live in the manor with me and the others, the scholars and advisors, until I decide what you'll be doing permanently.
( Sleeves rolled up, Bruce finds himself curiously sliding his hand under one of Miyano's, feeling the weight of it. Comparing how small and delicate it is in his own. The blue eyes flick up to Miyano's face, one brow arched. ) Is there something specific you might want to do at the manor?
( He turns Miyano's hand gently, gazing down at it once more. ) You can assist the scholars, work in the stables, assist the advisors or accountants, work for any of my sons. ( His gaze turns back up to Miyano's face. ) Become my consort and bride. ( How casually he says it makes it almost impossible to tell if he's joking or not. )
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But Miya isn't nearly as scared as he should be. His slender, pale hand is swallowed up in Bruce's, but he doesn't think to cringe away. Instead he just blinks upwards, eyes wide and honey-colored and innocent.]
Become your -- y-your what? [Obviously the idea of the rest of those options is puzzling, but Miya is positive he'd misheard that last part. Such a thing would be impossible. Right?]
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His touch stays soft and gentle, thumb brushing over the back of the small hand. How long has it been since he's held someone so soft and innocent in his arms? )
My consort and bride. ( He repeats easily, blue eyes meeting the honey colored gaze. ) You have time to think about what you'd like to do on the ride home.
( He can hear a few of the soldiers outside calling out to prepare to tear down the last of the tents. And finally, he steps away, releasing Miyano's hand to gather up a couple of his cloaks. He offers one to Miyano, the material dark and heavy, surely enough to swallow the young man whole. )
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He takes the cloak without thinking, almost dropping it when he actually feels the weight. The cloth is richer and more ornate than anything he's ever touched, and it feels comforting around his shoulders, chasing off some of the chill. Miya fastens the cloak, tugs up the hood, one hand staying in place to keep it from covering his face entirely. He means to ask something about where he should travel, if there's a wagon or if he should walk, but instead what comes out is:] You'd want me? To -- be that? Me?
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It'll definitely be enough to hide him on the ride home and keep him warm the closer they get to the kingdom.
He steps closer to Miyano, reaching out to put a hand on the small of his back to urge him forward with a small push. )
Is there a reason why you think I shouldn't?
( Reaching out, he pulls the flap of his tent open to lead the other out. He steers them in the direction of his horse - the large, dark steed standing taller than the rest of the horses and soldiers gathered near it. )
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Swallowing hard, Miyano glances up sideways at Bruce, feeling how warm and solid and immovable he is. Even if he tried, would he truly be able to resist? Would he truly want to?]
W-Well, I'm not...very impressive to look at, a-and I can't really do anything. I don't really know how, um...how useful I'd be.
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Though he supposes propositioning an Acolyte is much different than adopting them. )
You were useful enough to be kept as an Acolyte. ( Once they reach his horse, he turns to face Miyano. ) You were impressive enough for me to make the offer, Miyano.
( He offers a small smirk before he reaches out, easily lifting Miyano to help him onto the large horse. )
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[Then he wonders, frantically, if this counts as arguing, looking up at Bruce for a moment, eyes wide and earnest.] N-Not that I'm, um. Questioning your judgement, sir. If that's what...what you want, then I'll do my best, I promise. [He's about to say more, but then he's very, very easily lifted onto a horse, and he clams up immediately, clinging onto the horse's mane for dear life.]
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( One dark brown goes up curiously as he watches the way Miyano clings to the horse.
The horse doesn't seem particularly concerned with the attention, standing tall and looking forward with nothing more than a twitch of one dark ear.
For a moment, he simply watches Miyano before he moves to pull himself easily onto the horse's back, settling into the saddle and taking the reigns. )
It's your decision. ( He leans forward, reaching around the teen to curve his hand carefully around the smaller one to ease it out of the dark mane. ) Don't make it because you think it will make me happy. Make it because you think it'll make you happy.
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[Obviously.
Nor is he used to being asked what he wants. That much is evident in the confused way he glances backwards at Bruce, from under the edge of his hood, head tilted.] You...want me to be happy?
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You'll get used to it.
( His attention is pulled towards the sound of another horse trotting past them, one of the soldiers with a dark helmet that gleams red pulling in front of them. There's a quick exchange between them before the soldier pulls further in front of them to wait. )
It'll only be for a few hours. I'll be here with you the whole time. ( His hands move, carefully arranging the cloak around Miyano to ensure he's covered and safe from the cold before properly wrapping an arm around him and giving the reigns a tug. The horse makes a soft huff before he starts forward, a few other soldiers on their horses walking alongside them as they go.
Once they're on their way properly and the soldiers around them have spaced out around them, he turns his attention back to Miyano. )
We're not the monsters most people seem to think we are. If I wanted you to be unhappy, I would have left you to die back there.
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It's just -- Bruce is huge, every breath rippling the muscles of his chest, and Miya fits so neatly against him, enveloped in his presence. Like nothing and nobody could ever tear him away. It's safe and dizzying and Miyano finds himself gripping tightly at the robe wrapped around him to keep from holding onto Bruce instead.
Still, there's no harm in leaning back into the warm, protective embrace, right? Right. Miyano keeps his head ducked a bit, voice soft.]
I think I'm realizing you aren't, at all. It's...not what I was taught, but...I can't deny it, either.
Even if it scares me a bit.
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The journey home might not be a long one and made safer with some of his knights and soldiers surrounding him, but he's learned never to take silence and short journeys for granted. )
Fear is a strong weapon against others. Gothamites have learned to use it well.
( He tugs just a bit at Miyano's hood so he can try and find his face. )
Commander Todd ( he motions towards the knight with the gleaming dark red helmet ) was like you once, the last one standing among the ruins. I brought him home, and he's lived as my son and now one of my commanders since. It's been almost a decade now. There are a few others like you and him.
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Swallowing back his nerves, Miyano looks upwards again, pink-cheeked and doe-eyed.] But you -- want something different for me? Unless, um. You have other...consorts. [Not that the thought makes him jealous!!]
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He takes in the sight of those big eyes and pink cheeks before he lifts his hand, gently tipping the other's chin up further. ) You would be the only one, Miyano.
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lil timeskip if thats cool~~
works for me~
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