[ On Christmas Day, Hans will find a small package at his doorstep. Inside, he will find a hand-painted mug with a cute, Christmas-themed tapir, along with... something... and a card with the following text in it:
Your Highness,
Merry Christmas!
I'm not sure if you celebrate it in your world, but where I come from, this time of the year is the time for celebration with friends and family, full of joy and hopes for the future. I'm really grateful I got to meet you here, so I hope you accept this little token of appreciation! I know it's not much, but please remember that you can count on me whenever you need anything!
Sincerely, Noel Vermillion
Now that's all good and well, he might say, but what's the deal with the other thing? That would be Noel's custom, handmade rendition of a yule log cake. The problem? Noel can't cook. No, it's more than that ─ her cooking is absolutely atrocious, and the results are not unlike the worst of poisons. Most people brave enough to try it are left sick for weeks and traumatized for life. The wise thing would be to get rid of this abomination as soon as possible and never speak of its horrors again. But hey, at least the other gift is not deadly, so she got one half of it right! ]
[Legit Hans thinks that someone is honestly trying to kill him at first, until he reads the card. Oh, so no attempted murder, just a rather terrible attempt at cooking. Maybe he can use this cake as future poison or something, so thanks!!
...He may actually appreciate the gift, the mug at least, for its intended purpose.]
A wrapped box of several different spices and a few wooden cooking utensils has landed on the prince's doorstep, along with a note:
Hans,
Here are some things to help with your cooking. If you're still offended by the idea of me being nice to you, you can just think they're for me, since I'll be using them to teach you more. :)
[Today, Ferran is doing some outside cleaning, despite the frequent buzzing of the large ladybug that keeps fluttering onto him and then away again. He's doing his best to ignore it as he scrubs the outside of his window, but there's only so much he can do when it lands on his forehead and starts tippy-tapping on his face with its legs. With an annoyed grumble, he shoos the creature off, though it seems uncertain about where it wants to finally land.]
Stop being so fussy. I'll take care of it.
[Refreshing your supply of stopgaps in lieu of a true solution, you mean.
Ferran pauses, frowning deeply at the sound of the vision that's been haunting him. Maybe the nightmare-suppressing items he's acquired are only prolonging the process rather than fixing anything, but it's what he has right now, and they're working fine. In a deeper, much less pleasant tone:]
I don't want to hear anything from you, either.
[He is not expecting any visitors, thinking he's alone enough to speak aloud to the phantom without any questioning.]
That's rather rude, Ferran. Is that how you always greet your guests?
[Hans is aware that Ferran is talking to himself, because surely his friend would've at least offered him tea or at least acknowledge his presence if he knew that he was here. It's just more fun to give him a hard time, especially since Hans is comfortable and taking up space on his couch, the prince lying across it with his hands behind his head.
As for the reason why Hans is here? Guess the prince has found himself bored again and this time, didn't even bother to knock before letting himself in. Okay, it's not boredom that's led him here, but details. Details that might come up later.]
[Ferran stiffens in surprise, not quite jumping at the sound of Hans's voice, but certainly affected enough to come through physically.]
W—
[He leans forward to properly look through the window, and yep—there's Hans, just lying on his couch like he belongs there. He's so baffled by the sight of it that he momentarily forgets he's been caught talking to himself.]
[As Ferran peeks over at him through the window, Hans moves one of his arms up to wave at him. He seems quite comfortable, doesn't he? The prince has really made himself at home while showing zero manners about it.]
But if I did that, I wouldn't be able to see your amusing expression.
[Besides, he did that last time! Got to keep things interesting, mostly for himself.] Don't tell me you aren't happy to see me.
[He's not denying it, but listen... He lets out a brief sigh of exasperation.]
Give me a second and I'll be in. I can see you already made yourself at home, so I guess we've gotten that out of the way.
[So he'll circle around to the door, wondering what in the world his life is now. Meanwhile, Rossa the giant ladybug decides to say hello to the visitor, too—fluttering in through the window and landing on the top of the couch so she can shuffle and get a good look at him...]
[Is that a cheerful note in Hans's voice? Slightly, mostly because the prince is having his fun and not thinking about the multiple issues that's been plaguing his mind since his dream. He needed a distraction and luckily, Ferran's providing one.
...Along with this giant ladybug that's landed a little too close for his taste. He doesn't particularly like big inspects and he will swat them if needed. Hans gives Rossa a stink eye, and makes a shooing motion with his hand.]
[Ferran closes the door behind him as the ladybug seems to take the shooing motion as an indication she should, in fact, shuffle slightly closer.]
Don't mind her, she doesn't listen to anybody.
[He'll step over into the kitchen and set some water to boil for tea; he'd half expect Hans to do it himself with the way he just waltzed in unannounced, but that would mean putting in effort. That's a job for peasants, right?]
[The morning after the masquerade, there is a particularly decorated letter that's found its way to Hans's home. The handwriting is specially neat and tidy but probably familiar, so it's likely not even a little bit of a surprise who it's from, despite the lack of signature.]
His Royal Highness Prince Hans, [he's just being a dork now.]
You are hereby invited to a private dinner by the lake, followed by an optional light show, dessert, and potential entertainment of your choosing. Food will be served starting at 6:30 PM, with the evening's schedule otherwise flexible based on your preferences.
Don't be late! ♡
[Or do, it's not like he's going to ghost you. Food might get cold, tho.
Or showing up especially early would serve to interrupt his preparations and some of the surprise, depending on how fun that sounds to Hans.]
[The masquerade was fun enough, but Hans really didn't get the chance to be himself aka an asshole. Even if their identities were supposedly hidden, he wasn't about to risk that magic failing and get caught in the process. Besides, he's not going to go out of his way to ruin someone's fun at a party for no real reason.
So, the letter is a welcome invitation. It's obvious who is responsible for it and Hans finds himself smiling just slightly, a faint look that he's willing to share with just himself. It seems like that he needs to prepare and pick his best outfit for this.
The thought of arriving early certainly crosses Hans's mind, but he actually wants to experience and see what Ferran has in store for him. Of course, he'd never come late, what sort of prince would he be? He may leave a princess to die and almost kill another, but he will definitely show up on time when asked to.
So, when the time draws near, Hans can be seen riding on Sitron as he arrives at the lake.]
[Once Hans nears the lake, he'll see a sturdy wooden table has been set up near the lake on top of an ornate rug, and decorated appropriately: a tablecloth with metallic accents, a vase of several flowers, a pot of tea aside a pitcher of water, and fine cutlery wait atop it for the diners. A large tray stands nearby with serving dishes hidden under metal covers, as well as a basket of raw vegetables that Sitron may find appealing, too.
Ferran himself is dressed in a tailed vest and button up, an expensive-looking pair of dress shoes on despite the fact that they're out in the middle of nature. He's waiting patiently next to the tray, watching as Hans and Sitron come near with his hands folded in front of him.]
[For a brief moment, he wonders how Ferran managed to get all of this out here, but he remembers his abilities. It wouldn't be too much of a hassle if he's able to duplicate objects to the lake, right? But he nonetheless appreciates the gesture, a slight smile crossing Hans's face as he gets off Sitron, patting his horse's head and trying to ignore the heat that builds in his chest.
Since they've started dating, Ferran has gone out of his way to... spend extra care to him. It's what partners do for each other, he knows this, but it doesn't erase the feeling he gets. Hans does his best to hide that, however, and just offers him a small teasing look.]
Fancy that, it's quite a coincidence. [...] You look nice.
[While Hans may be trying to hide feelings, Ferran rarely does, and especially not now—the compliment gives him a bright smile, and a soft breeze with the scent of the beach comes along with it.]
So do you, as always. [He pulls out a chair for his boyfriend, apparently ready to serve for the evening.]
[Top service and top manners?? Hans takes a seat before nodding at Sitron, signaling to his faithful horse to come a little closer. As Ferran correctly guessed, they're both hungry and Sitron can certainly go for a meal after making the trek over here. He wants to be rewarded.]
After reading the promises written on the letter, I came here with a mostly empty stomach.
[Hans knows how to cook now, but he'll always take the opportunity to have other people cook for him. Besides, it's not like he can cook anything too fancy still, unless he's following a recipe to the tee.]
Is all this for that Valentine's Day I've heard about? [That would make the most sense to him. It seems like a big deal to some.]
[Sitron gets his meal first—he deserves it more, after all—and Ferran moves the tray with the basket of vegetables over to him so he doesn't have to stand too close to the table. He gets a few pats for good measure, too, as Ferran replies.]
You can think of it that way. It's just an excuse to put a little more effort in, as far as I'm concerned.
[If he did this kind of thing every day, it would probably get dull. Besides, he knows he wouldn't have the energy, so it's better to space things out. Holidays really are the perfect occasion. But with Sitron taken care of, Ferran moves back to the table to pour Hans a glass of water.]
[When Hans turns up at Ferran's cabin, he'll find the younger man clearly in the middle of something: there's a sturdy shoulder bag resting on the living room table open with several wrapped items and a bottle or two inside, along with a transparent bundle of crystals reminiscent of the glowing moon and a hardback tome open to a frequently-viewed page about a knight healing someone.
He's got a piece of leather armor in his right hand, a needle in his left, and the long end of a thread in his mouth. A jar immediately in front of him sits open, a relatively familiar collection of dried blue petals inside. Looking up to see his partner in the middle of pressing the needle through some inner cloth piece with some difficulty, he loses his careful concentration and ends up pricking himself with a wince.]
[Does he need a reason to visit his boyfriend? No, but also, he's here to talk to him about the message Eustace sent out, because he has a small feeling that Ferran is gonna go out and try to help. He's that kind of person, right? Always sticking his nose in other people's business and protecting the city. Mostly.
So, he's not too surprised to see supplies already getting packed, with various items already inside the bag. Hans smiles slightly to himself, partly because he's right, but it's kind of charming. His smile only increases when Ferran accidentally pokes himself, almost rolling his eyes as he comes closer.]
Careful now, Ferran. [Does he have to kiss it better--] Going to go off and play the hero?
[Shaking his hand to distract from the momentary sting, he gives Hans a look of exasperation.]
Hardly. [If circumstances were different... he can't say he wouldn't. But for these people in particular? Ferran has no interest in risking himself for their sake, and he's not ashamed to admit that.]
I'm going to "go off" to make sure my friends who are playing hero don't get in over their heads over something that's not worth it.
[His disdain, while mild, is clear enough in the scrunch of his expression. He's not pleased with this turn of events, but he's not distressed about it, either. Perhaps that's further evidenced by the fact that he almost casually deflects to a more mundane topic than the nightmare-infested city.]
The kettle's still hot if you want to make yourself some tea. [He's busy, so do it yourself.]
[If Hans is surprised, he doesn't show it. Sometimes, he forgets how callous Ferran can be, that he isn't always willing to toss himself into danger for other people's sake. He isn't Sora, who would help nearly anyone. It certainly keeps him interesting in his opinion.
At least he's not with someone that is completely good. Ferran can be just as trashy--]
Not worth it? [Hans puts a hand against his chest and lets his eyes widen a fraction, just wanting to play this up.] Is it because they're a nasty group of thieves?
[Also wow, the lack of hospitality here. Nonetheless, Hans drops the act to tend to the kettle and pour himself some tea, taking whatever cup that's the fanciest in Ferran's humble abode.]
[It's a cup Hans has probably used a number of times at this point, and Ferran has acquiesced to leaving it waiting for him in the same place as always; gold trim, floral design, not as small as the kinds with saucers.
As he presses his finger against his mouth, he lets out a low sound of agreement, somewhere between a hum and a growl.]
That's part of it. [He glances at his hand before returning to his work, more carefully this time—sewing dawn petals into the inside of the armor.] They're shifty, stupid, and they made their own mess that shouldn't be our problem.
[He doesn't mention the Fae thing—but does he really need to, at this point?]
[Ah yes, his favorite cup waiting for him in its usual spot. A small smile tugs at the corner of Hans's lips for a moment, choosing to read more into this than he probably should, but it's nice. A place to call home--
He starts making himself tea while continuing to talk to Ferran, even if his back is still mostly turned towards him. It's not rude, it's multitasking!]
Not at all concerned for the circumstances that led them to such thievery? Quite cold.
[Ferran truly has it out for the Fae, doesn't he? It doesn't bother him or anything, but as any good boyfriend, he wants to understand his partner. Okay, well, he just thinks it's interesting to prod at. Such a grudge to hold against an entire race of creatures...]
[Even if Hans's back hadn't been turned, he wouldn't have tried to mask the change in his expression to something more grim.]
... what I'm concerned about is having to watch them rot another world away from the inside.
[He's not going back to that again. His hand trembles for a moment, but he pauses and presses his lips together until it passes before he returns to his work.]
I don't care about their reasons. It was careless, either way. And now they've put more people in danger...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
December 25th
Your Highness,
Merry Christmas!
I'm not sure if you celebrate it in your world, but where I come from, this time of the year is the time for celebration with friends and family, full of joy and hopes for the future. I'm really grateful I got to meet you here, so I hope you accept this little token of appreciation! I know it's not much, but please remember that you can count on me whenever you need anything!
Sincerely,
Noel Vermillion
Now that's all good and well, he might say, but what's the deal with the other thing? That would be Noel's custom, handmade rendition of a yule log cake. The problem? Noel can't cook. No, it's more than that ─ her cooking is absolutely atrocious, and the results are not unlike the worst of poisons. Most people brave enough to try it are left sick for weeks and traumatized for life. The wise thing would be to get rid of this abomination as soon as possible and never speak of its horrors again. But hey, at least the other gift is not deadly, so she got one half of it right! ]
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...He may actually appreciate the gift, the mug at least, for its intended purpose.]
near the end of the month
Hans,
Here are some things to help with your cooking. If you're still offended by the idea of me being nice to you, you can just think they're for me, since I'll be using them to teach you more. :)
See you soon,
Ferran
Is it a threat, or a promise...?
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...But he strangely looks forward to cooking with him. Look, it's a practical skill.]
10/20... ferran's house lol
Stop being so fussy. I'll take care of it.
[Refreshing your supply of stopgaps in lieu of a true solution, you mean.
Ferran pauses, frowning deeply at the sound of the vision that's been haunting him. Maybe the nightmare-suppressing items he's acquired are only prolonging the process rather than fixing anything, but it's what he has right now, and they're working fine. In a deeper, much less pleasant tone:]
I don't want to hear anything from you, either.
[He is not expecting any visitors, thinking he's alone enough to speak aloud to the phantom without any questioning.]
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[Hans is aware that Ferran is talking to himself, because surely his friend would've at least offered him tea or at least acknowledge his presence if he knew that he was here. It's just more fun to give him a hard time, especially since Hans is comfortable and taking up space on his couch, the prince lying across it with his hands behind his head.
As for the reason why Hans is here? Guess the prince has found himself bored again and this time, didn't even bother to knock before letting himself in. Okay, it's not boredom that's led him here, but details. Details that might come up later.]
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W—
[He leans forward to properly look through the window, and yep—there's Hans, just lying on his couch like he belongs there. He's so baffled by the sight of it that he momentarily forgets he's been caught talking to himself.]
You could have knocked or something??
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But if I did that, I wouldn't be able to see your amusing expression.
[Besides, he did that last time! Got to keep things interesting, mostly for himself.] Don't tell me you aren't happy to see me.
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[He's not denying it, but listen... He lets out a brief sigh of exasperation.]
Give me a second and I'll be in. I can see you already made yourself at home, so I guess we've gotten that out of the way.
[So he'll circle around to the door, wondering what in the world his life is now. Meanwhile, Rossa the giant ladybug decides to say hello to the visitor, too—fluttering in through the window and landing on the top of the couch so she can shuffle and get a good look at him...]
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[Is that a cheerful note in Hans's voice? Slightly, mostly because the prince is having his fun and not thinking about the multiple issues that's been plaguing his mind since his dream. He needed a distraction and luckily, Ferran's providing one.
...Along with this giant ladybug that's landed a little too close for his taste. He doesn't particularly like big inspects and he will swat them if needed. Hans gives Rossa a stink eye, and makes a shooing motion with his hand.]
Go, leave me.
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Don't mind her, she doesn't listen to anybody.
[He'll step over into the kitchen and set some water to boil for tea; he'd half expect Hans to do it himself with the way he just waltzed in unannounced, but that would mean putting in effort. That's a job for peasants, right?]
So what's up?
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2/15
His Royal Highness Prince Hans, [he's just being a dork now.]
You are hereby invited to a private dinner by the lake, followed by an optional light show, dessert, and potential entertainment of your choosing. Food will be served starting at 6:30 PM, with the evening's schedule otherwise flexible based on your preferences.
Don't be late! ♡
[Or do, it's not like he's going to ghost you. Food might get cold, tho.
Or showing up especially early would serve to interrupt his preparations and some of the surprise, depending on how fun that sounds to Hans.]
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So, the letter is a welcome invitation. It's obvious who is responsible for it and Hans finds himself smiling just slightly, a faint look that he's willing to share with just himself. It seems like that he needs to prepare and pick his best outfit for this.
The thought of arriving early certainly crosses Hans's mind, but he actually wants to experience and see what Ferran has in store for him. Of course, he'd never come late, what sort of prince would he be? He may leave a princess to die and almost kill another, but he will definitely show up on time when asked to.
So, when the time draws near, Hans can be seen riding on Sitron as he arrives at the lake.]
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Ferran himself is dressed in a tailed vest and button up, an expensive-looking pair of dress shoes on despite the fact that they're out in the middle of nature. He's waiting patiently next to the tray, watching as Hans and Sitron come near with his hands folded in front of him.]
What a pleasant surprise to meet you here.
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Since they've started dating, Ferran has gone out of his way to... spend extra care to him. It's what partners do for each other, he knows this, but it doesn't erase the feeling he gets. Hans does his best to hide that, however, and just offers him a small teasing look.]
Fancy that, it's quite a coincidence. [...] You look nice.
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So do you, as always. [He pulls out a chair for his boyfriend, apparently ready to serve for the evening.]
I hope you're both hungry.
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After reading the promises written on the letter, I came here with a mostly empty stomach.
[Hans knows how to cook now, but he'll always take the opportunity to have other people cook for him. Besides, it's not like he can cook anything too fancy still, unless he's following a recipe to the tee.]
Is all this for that Valentine's Day I've heard about? [That would make the most sense to him. It seems like a big deal to some.]
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[Sitron gets his meal first—he deserves it more, after all—and Ferran moves the tray with the basket of vegetables over to him so he doesn't have to stand too close to the table. He gets a few pats for good measure, too, as Ferran replies.]
You can think of it that way. It's just an excuse to put a little more effort in, as far as I'm concerned.
[If he did this kind of thing every day, it would probably get dull. Besides, he knows he wouldn't have the energy, so it's better to space things out. Holidays really are the perfect occasion. But with Sitron taken care of, Ferran moves back to the table to pour Hans a glass of water.]
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early september
He's got a piece of leather armor in his right hand, a needle in his left, and the long end of a thread in his mouth. A jar immediately in front of him sits open, a relatively familiar collection of dried blue petals inside. Looking up to see his partner in the middle of pressing the needle through some inner cloth piece with some difficulty, he loses his careful concentration and ends up pricking himself with a wince.]
Ouch.
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Mostly.So, he's not too surprised to see supplies already getting packed, with various items already inside the bag. Hans smiles slightly to himself, partly because he's right, but it's kind of charming. His smile only increases when Ferran accidentally pokes himself, almost rolling his eyes as he comes closer.]
Careful now, Ferran. [Does he have to kiss it better--] Going to go off and play the hero?
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Hardly. [If circumstances were different... he can't say he wouldn't. But for these people in particular? Ferran has no interest in risking himself for their sake, and he's not ashamed to admit that.]
I'm going to "go off" to make sure my friends who are playing hero don't get in over their heads over something that's not worth it.
[His disdain, while mild, is clear enough in the scrunch of his expression. He's not pleased with this turn of events, but he's not distressed about it, either. Perhaps that's further evidenced by the fact that he almost casually deflects to a more mundane topic than the nightmare-infested city.]
The kettle's still hot if you want to make yourself some tea. [He's busy, so do it yourself.]
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At least he's not with someone that is completely good. Ferran can be just as trashy--]
Not worth it? [Hans puts a hand against his chest and lets his eyes widen a fraction, just wanting to play this up.] Is it because they're a nasty group of thieves?
[Also wow, the lack of hospitality here. Nonetheless, Hans drops the act to tend to the kettle and pour himself some tea, taking whatever cup that's the fanciest in Ferran's humble abode.]
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As he presses his finger against his mouth, he lets out a low sound of agreement, somewhere between a hum and a growl.]
That's part of it. [He glances at his hand before returning to his work, more carefully this time—sewing dawn petals into the inside of the armor.] They're shifty, stupid, and they made their own mess that shouldn't be our problem.
[He doesn't mention the Fae thing—but does he really need to, at this point?]
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He starts making himself tea while continuing to talk to Ferran, even if his back is still mostly turned towards him. It's not rude, it's multitasking!]
Not at all concerned for the circumstances that led them to such thievery? Quite cold.
[Ferran truly has it out for the Fae, doesn't he? It doesn't bother him or anything, but as any good boyfriend, he wants to understand his partner. Okay, well, he just thinks it's interesting to prod at. Such a grudge to hold against an entire race of creatures...]
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... what I'm concerned about is having to watch them rot another world away from the inside.
[He's not going back to that again. His hand trembles for a moment, but he pauses and presses his lips together until it passes before he returns to his work.]
I don't care about their reasons. It was careless, either way. And now they've put more people in danger...
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