northclifflogs | closed | there is no upper hand

He could leave. He really should, as staying in one place after being phenomenally stupid is just compounding the stupid at this point, but Detlef is still on the bench in the cell, leaning against one wall and staring at another until Colin pushes the bread through.

"Push it in, just like that." There's a flicker of a smile on his lips before he sighs and gets up off the bench, feeling gangly and like his skin doesn't fit right. After scooping the bread up Detlef pushes open the cell door and steps out to lean back against the bars.

"Hi. Thank you." Whatever's brought the other man over, he's come with bread and Detlef can at least be thankful for that.

Colin isn't exactly surprised that the cell is unlocked, but he's strangely uncomfortable about it. He folds his arms and leans back against the wall, frowning to himself.

"Hi," he repeats back. Public lewdness, just fantastic there. "I guess you weren't...hungry."

His stomach growls to counter any agreement that he might have made with Colin's words and his faint expression turns sheepish.

"I... I was. Am. I'm sorry. I'm a little out of it right now." He tears off a hunk of the bread and shakes his head. "I don't really..." Detlef trails off and sighs. "Thank you?"

Words aren't usually this difficult. Normally he can find plenty, and use them well too. But today has been heavier than many in his life and he's at a loss.

Colin doesn't trust that stomach growl, considering the circumstances. Everything is a spy. But the thank-you is, at the very least, kind. And the words he said before, in front of the Shepherds?

Unless he was planted by them. Maybe that's why his cell door is unlocked.

"You're welcome," he says quietly. If the Shepherds planted him, Colin is likely already dead. "Nobody should be left hungry."

"Nobody should," he mutters, expression falling as he looks down. A moment later he remembers himself enough to stuff the torn piece of bread into his mouth.

"Nobody should a lot of things," he says through the bread, as the semi-attempt to gag himself hadn't worked at all. He's bitter and angry and frustrated and scared. The Vice can do so much good. He's only used it for good. But it's enough to get him killed so... what? Is he supposed to stop helping the animals better than any other stablemaster can? Is he supposed to let them suffer more? Why?

"Hey." Colin melts, and reaches out to grasp the man's shoulder. If allowed, bring him into an embrace. It's been a truly awful day. "We all know it. Just breathe."

It's more than allowed. Detlef sags against Colin, arms going loosely around him.

"Do we? A man just, and we didn't, we couldn't." This might be too many words all over again, and he squeezes his eyes shut to try to banish the memory of how disappointedly angry Lance had been with him. "I'm sorry. I can't shut up and be smart today."

Colin can't tell if the man is setting a trap for him, but he has spent so many years in isolation, unable to talk about this even with Camilla for fear of being suspected. Some part of him thinks it could be worth the risk. He takes a deep breath and steps back.

"When I was a kid," he whispers, "I woke up choking on smoke. Someone set fire to our house. Camilla was screaming and coughing. The front door was blocked. So my father told me to climb out the window first, since I was the youngest. Camilla followed, she was second-youngest. And we saw Catherine about to climb out when the ceiling fell."

Tears are appearing in his eyes. He feels like he has a weight on his chest.

"It fell on Catherine. We could hear everyone else screaming as they burned, but not Catherine. Her hand was still in the window, and it wasn't moving. Marina, our parents, they screamed and nobody came to help. Everybody in the town knew--some of them were watching--but nobody came near. Most of them wouldn't even help me or Camilla. They were afraid they'd be cursed, or be seen as sympathizers. So I listened to my sister and my parents choke and scream until they were dead."

His voice lowers even further.

"Because Marina made flowers bloom in winter."

He listens to the story, gaze on the ground because he doesn't want to see what he can hear in Colin's voice. He doesn't trust himself to do the right thing here, forget figuring out whatever the smart thing might be.

"I'm sorry," is what he finally says when Colin's stopped. "She didn't hurt people with it. I don't know why, I... Most don't deserve what happens to them. They didn't." There are bad seeds in every batch, but there are so many stories like this that are sickening, and then there's his own use of the Vice. He's never hurt anyone with it. Only helped. But that would make no difference to the Shepherds and even some of his fellow villagers. Is Colin among them? He doesn't know. He's taking a risk as it is with his 'most' statement, making some sympathies clear, and he's too scared to go further just yet.

"Is Camilla all right? Did you at least both make it clear of that hateful place?"

"She's married. Lives in Northcliff Proper." His throat feels so tight. "We were...actually, we were eleven and twelve when it happened. Da's only family was our sick grandmother, and Mamma's family lives in Aguil. So Emery took us in and fostered us, protected us from anyone who wished us harm. He taught us to read and write, and helped us get through it all. Camilla hated this place, of course, it's why she got married, so she could leave. I guess I don't like change. And there are really good people here. They just, some of them have their own families to think about. Their own children who might burn to death, if they're suspected of the Vice. And I understand that. It's the same reason all the rest of us wouldn't argue with the Shepherds. Everyone is afraid."

"And everyone is smarter than I am," he says dryly, but Colin has a point. Detlef's got less to fear because he has no family here. He doesn't put anyone else in danger by being stupid. For all everyone in Northcliff Pass knows he has no family period and he's not about to change that up. They're supposed to be dead according to what he's told people.

"That man probably didn't do anything except sleep with the wrong person. They wouldn't haul someone to another village if he'd actually done his village wrong; his village would be eager for justice." And yet he's dead anyway, despite probably not being guilty of any crime. That's the power the Shepherds and the fear of the Profane have. "But that's the power of fear."

Now he looks up. "We're always afraid."

"They have to remind us all about their power over us," Colin breathes, glancing toward the door anxiously. "Just like anyone in power. Once they're gone, we'll be a lot safer. But if you piss them off, they'll accuse you, whether you've done anything or not. They'd have to, or other people would start asking the same questions you did. Start realizing they're only humans.

"That's the key to surviving. Don't threaten someone's power. Duck and obey and do whatever will make them feel secure. Then once they leave, continue on with your life as if they were never here. You make enemies, you die."

His expression is exhausted. He's exhausted.

"Every day, keep your head down. Until you slip up, or accidentally make the wrong person mad, or deliberately make the wrong person mad." It's his most likely outcome, and he sighs, looking toward the door too. Colin's scared, Lance is scared, both rightly so. Even he's scared.

"Aren't you glad you brought me bread? All of the stressful conversation you could hope for at such a low price."

Colin shakes his head. "You're very passionate. And it's...good, to talk to someone who seems safe. Even Camilla and I don't talk about what happened. Sometimes it builds up."

He glances at the door again, and makes sure he has an eye on the windows as well.

"Why are you so passionate?" he whispers under his breath. "What's your story?"

He looks at Colin, trying to decide exactly how tired and stupid he's feeling. Lance already knows. Colin sounds like he mourns his sister. And it turns out Detlef is really fucking tired.

"How the hell do you think I haven't lost an animal in two years?" He's not just tired. He's angry and bitter too still. "But it is, of course, evil and a weakness. Unlike slitting a man's throat or setting a family on fire. That's proper."

Colin's breath catches. His face flushes. He could cry. He has never spoken with a Profane before, and he reaches out with a trembling hand to clasp Detlef's.

"Or growing flowers," he rasps. Tears come to his eyes again. "We couldn't, couldn't pull them up and bury them fast enough. So Marina told me to say it was her. She made me promise."

It takes him several moments to really process what's going on when his hand is taken and Colin speaks. Then it sinks in. Detlef blinks, and gives Colin's hand a surprised squeeze. It had absolutely been an idiotic risk to say anything, but somehow being an idiot hadn't backfired this time.

"You too," he breathes, surprise in his eyes. Knowing that he's not alone doesn't quite lift the burden in his chest, but it makes it feel more tolerable. Detlef shakes his head and laughs weakly in a little relief. "I could kiss you right now, you know."

They were both stupid, but just this once, being stupid paid off. A huge weight has been lifted. He could smile for days, but it would cause suspicion if he walked out of here with a smile. He shakes his head.

"I can't stay any longer, or they'll suspect," he whispers, "but if you come by the bakery later, we can talk. It's always dead in the afternoons."

He nods, gaze going back to the door.

"I'll come by. For more than the bread." The faintest trace of an actual smile comes to his face. "Be careful. I don't have the slightest right to say that, but I'm saying it anyway."

He lets go of Colin's hand now, stepping back before glancing into the cell. "I'll enjoy Captain Lance's hospitality a little longer to avoid suspicion of you too. He, um. Knows. He walked in on me helping one of the lambs."

"Captain Lance?" Colin is surprised and relieved both, knowing Captain Lance is safe. Potentially. It's not like he's going to march up to him and confess. But it gives him a little more hope, knowing that someone in authority may not think he deserves death. He still doesn't know about Emery.

He gives a nod, thinks, and reaches up to take out his earring. He places it in Detlef's hand.

"If anyone stops you, say I dropped this and you're returning it."

He raises an eyebrow and the smile strengthens. "I'll be vague about the how."

A few hours later he knocks on the door of the bakery and comes in, face a picture of casual innocence.

"Colin? I think this is yours. I found it." He holds the earring out as he looks around the store just in case.

No one else is here. Colin gestures Detlef inside, then latches the door behind him. On one side of the room is a ladder to the room above, and Colin leads Detlef toward it. At the top is a bedroom in slight disarray. Only then does Colin take the earring back, putting it back in the cartilage of his right ear.

"Can't be too careful," he says quietly, sitting on the bed and gesturing to a chair. "So. When did it start for you?"

He's not sure he wants to talk about this. He's pretty sure that instead he wants to comment on how the bed is big enough for two and the day's been long enough to earn distraction... but for once he bites his tongue there and takes a seat in the chair.

"I don't know, exactly. I've always been good with animals and plants. Then one day, when I was around 12, I realized it wasn't just me. That there was something else to what I was doing when the horses were ill, and I got better at it as I practiced it. I realized what it was fairly quickly, but I help with it." His voice is starting to get angry so he breaks off and shrugs. "Then I used it in front of my family on accident and ran. There it is. That's my story."

Colin frowns, and wonders if he's similarly used the Vice without knowing it. He doesn't think he has. He's been so careful.

"I've just used it the once," he admits. "I didn't mean to. I was wishing for spring to come quicker and suddenly there were flowers all over. I've spent every day since then showing up to chapel to pray to gods that clearly aren't there, or they'd have made sure I died in that fire. Pretending to be something I'm not. I never told anyone about it before. Not even Camilla knows."

"If you've..." He swallows, trying to find the right words. "You've repented, you've left it behind. That's the choice you've made and that's who you are. It doesn't matter if you accidentally used it. It can't. That wouldn't be..."

Fair, he wants to say, but little about this is fair. Including the fact that he's finally found another profane and they don't use it, don't want to use it. Detlef deflates a little, bending forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Everyone's got the Vice, so most have to have slipped up. Right? It follows. And maybe the Shepherds are the ones who judge everyone the hardest because they can't deal with their own failures."

Colin shakes his head. "I haven't repented. I don't even believe in the gods. I'm not penitent, I'm just a coward. And I want a normal life. But I don't think people slip up near as often as they'd have to in order for everyone to have the Vice. And that's too much power for that many people to have without us seeing it misused a lot more."

"But they say..." Now he trails off in thought. They said everyone had it, but they are the ones that will kill whole families because they think one has used it? The numbers don't actually make sense. And why is he trusting murderers?

"Can I sit over there? With you? Being close to someone might be nice."

Colin nods and makes room for him on the bed.

"They say. But they'd also say I'm still a Profane even though it only happened once."

He's so serious. And so pretty. Detlef comes over and leans against Colin, looping arms around his friend and putting his mouth close to Colin's ear.

"If you're already damned for an accident, why not be damned for using it for good?" It's dangerous, but so is life. "I've just studied what I can do for animals, but I'm good with plants. Maybe we're alike. Maybe we can teach each other and learn together."

Colin is not used to being touched. The only person who hugs him lives in another town, let alone...whatever this is. Shoulders come up, he flinches away with a tight smile, and Detlef's breath against his ear gives him tingles he didn't expect. So accustomed to floating through life in a state of near-solitude, this is a lot at once and with no warning.

But it's what Detlef whispers to him that makes him go cold.

"No," he says flatly. "No. Last time I did that, my family got killed. People are expecting it of me now. They'll see."

Rejected in two ways at once. That's pretty par for the course for him, and he pulls back to give Colin a little more room.

"I don't think that man did anything except sleep with the wrong person, and he still died. I don't think the Shepherds need you to actually do anything to kill you. But I won't push. If you change your mind, or want anything from me, you know where to find me."

He'd gotten too hopeful. He'd wanted to not be alone too badly. He needs to remember that being alone has kept him safe, and now he's let two people in and that could be two too many.

Colin looks like he's been struck.

"Wait, what? You're not leaving." It's the first time he's told anyone what he did, and Detlef wants no more of him unless he risks his own life? Risks his sister's? Yet it's been so long since he trusted anyone that the thought of disappointing this young man is unbearable. He reaches for Detlef's hand in case he gets any ideas about leaving. "Don't leave. Please. I'll think about it, all right? I promise. I'll think about it."

He looks down at their joined hands, shaking his head, starting to get a little nervous himself.

"You don't have to. I'm not going to, I don't want, I didn't come here to force you into something. Especially not that." Detlef can't take that on his conscience if Colin died because he practiced the Vice and was caught. "I'll stay longer if you'd like. You just, you didn't seem to want me touching you or to think about what it is I am."

Because he's Profane and he wishes he was stronger but he's not, he's going to keep using the Vice. He can't let his animals suffer.

Colin looks puzzled and faintly apologetic.

"I...I'm just not used to being touched. You can keep doing it, if you like. And I thought we were talking about that it is you are."

So only 25% rejected, which is a record. Detlef leans back against Colin, now that he's been invited to do so. Truth been told, it's been a long time since he'd had any sort of physical contact that wasn't handshakes or accidental and he's dying for even just this little bit. The dancing of months ago was just that - months ago.

"We don't have to keep talking about what I am and do. We could talk about... bread? You make great bread." It's part flirting and part factual. Or maybe it's all of both. At this point in time, after the emotional roller-coaster of the last day and today, Detlef can't be blamed for not knowing what he's doing or trying at any given point in time.

Colin smiles wanly and hesitantly puts an arm around Detlef. After a second, he leans against him, relieved to finally feel affection again after so long.

"It's all right," he says with a gleam in his eye that reveals the pride in that statement. "I love baking, but it doesn't make for especially interesting conversation. You like animals? I have chickens."

Oh, this is where it's at. Detlef closes his eyes and relaxes, warm and comfortable.

"I like that I can help them," he murmurs, "but I really like cats. And horses. Pigs are fairly smart. Cows are sweet. Chickens can be jerks, but they give eggs so I'll give them a pass." His voice is light. "Cats are my favorite."

"Roosters are jerks. Universally." Colin chuckles softly. "Hens are little ladies. Probably more like cats than you think. Once you earn their trust, they're quite sweet. But I do like cats. I'd probably keep one if the chickens wouldn't pester it."

After a few breaths of silence, he says, "Why did you decide to stay here, and not somewhere else?"

"Mmhmm," he says. He could fall asleep here. Then he actually hears Colin's question and pulls back a tiny bit so he can think instead of dozing off.

"I don't... I like it here. I like the people. And there was a place that I could fit into. It seemed like it was meant to be, and it... works. Most of the time. When we're not silently watching murder happen."

Edited 2019-07-05 23:09 (UTC)

"I agree," Colin says. "I should hate these people. I should hate this place. Sometimes I wonder why I haven't left and found somewhere else. Then I keep thinking...things are a lot better now than they were. And before much longer, people won't care what my sister did. Some already don't care. And I love Emery and Pippa and all the people who became my family after my real family died. I'm welcome with them. When the Shepherds turned up, Emery came to see how I was doing. To tell me he'd protect me."

Slowly, he rests his cheek against Detlef's hair. And after a moment, pulls back so he can lay them both down on the bed. Extra lazy, but it's the most comfortable.

Well. That's new. The opening up, which is terrifying and not something Detlef at all intends to reciprocate, but also the position. He scoots close, getting very comfortable indeed.

"Northcliff Pass is a lot more welcoming than many villages. They're kind to have taken you in." And him. Far too personal. Colin already knows something about him that no one should. "And you deserve the kindness. You're kind."

"I'm not kind," Colin says reflexively, as if compliments are nothing but bits of gristle to spit out.

"Says the man who brought me bread," he retorts, shifting up to an elbow so he can meet Colin's gaze. "Who brought me bread when there was a risk because I'd done something stupid."

Detlef reaches over and brushes some of Colin's hair back. "What else would you call that?"

Colin's eyes go wide when they meet Detlef's. He's surprised how his body relaxes as he hovers over, as his hair is touched, and how his eyes close at the sensation. When they open again, he watches those blue eyes carefully. He's never been good at eye contact, but this isn't so bad.

He sees an eyelash on Detlef's cheekbone. One hand reaches up to touch his cheek while a thumb brushes it away. It lingers.

He's tempted to kiss Colin. Very, very tempted. The man's pretty and he's getting touchy-feely... but he'd flinched earlier, and there's been too many emotions today already. Heck, there's still a chance the Shepherds will decide to look for him. Detlef reaches up to gently rest his hand on Colin's. This isn't the time.

"I could use a nap, or a dozen drinks, and one of those is a stupid idea." He smiles. "I'm going to go back to my place. But know that any time you need me, or want me, for anything, I'll be there, all right?"

Detlef pulls Colin's hand down and kisses that. There. Now Colin won't feel like Detlef is ditching him, hopefully.

A faint smile and a flutter of his eyelashes. He nods. And as Detlef walks away, Colin sits up and watches him go.

closed | there is no upper hand

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