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It was true that the King of Euchronia never had a drop of liquor.
Those who didn't know him well would think that he didn't indulge, but those who do would know that when Will was crowned, he was merely eighteen years old, barely an adult, and not yet old enough to drink even though he was old enough to rule. In Will I's reign, even the king himself was not above the law, trivial as it may be. This one in particular did make for some funny conversations among his close friends.
However, years had passed since then, and by now, Will was very much old enough for it.
The drinking age of Euchronia was twenty, but Will held off as he simply was too busy to satisfy curiosity. Free time was hard to come by, and he would rather spend it on something else than getting inebriated, having seen others in that state. However, he couldn't hold it off forever. Sooner or later, he'd have to learn to 'socialize' with the nobles of the country, and he should be able to hold his drinks to some degree.
So, at the age of twenty-two, the king finally had his first taste of alcohol.
He sat at the Hushed Honeybee Inn, a place he had visited often throughout the years. Not alone, of course. Will invited his friends along, and they gathered, using this opportunity to meet and catch up on each other's affairs, all equally busy individuals they were. Those who came were Gallica, Eupha, Junah, Basilio, even Neuras got out of his workshop to see the outside world, and Strohl, who got off his duty just in time to dress down somewhat and meet the others in front of the place.
Unfortunately, not everyone could be there. Hulkenberg was on her way back to Altabury for family business, and Heismay had planned to come with them, but something urgent came up on his end. He expressed his regrets very clearly for not being able to share Will's first drink. However, the eugief knight did lighten up when Will promised to drink with him later, knowing that he had probably wanted to share a drink with the boy he came to view as a son.
(As the more straight-laced ones out of their group, their simultaneous absence may cause a situation later, but at the moment, Strohl had absolutely no idea about it.)
When tankards of mead were put down at their table, Will reached out and took an experimental sip from it. His face quickly twisted at the first notice of bitterness which earned a good chortle out of Strohl, but he got used to the burn eventually. Strohl and Basilio, however, opted to have ale instead, preferring it over the sweetness of honey mead which could be overwhelming sometimes.
Although the goal was not to get drunk out of their minds, deep down, Strohl wanted to know what Will would be like when intoxicated. For him, the first emotion to trickle out had always been anger, and then once he reached a certain threshold of intoxication, nausea would take over as he ranted himself dizzy. He was cursed with bad motion sickness that didn't get any better the stronger he became and an emotional mind that sometimes got the better of him. Strohl tried not to drink too much because of that, especially now that he had an image to keep.
As they chatted away, the drinks in their hands were tuned out of focus, happier with catching up with their friends over Fabienne's wonderful dishes. Still, that didn't keep Strohl from sparing glances at their king to gauge his bearings every time he took a sip, unable to help with worrying about Will overdoing it.
Right then, the door to the inn opened.
"Oh, if it isn't General Strohl!" A voice rang from the front door—standing there was a middle-aged roussainte man in a soldier uniform, a surprised expression on his face.
Strohl raised his eyebrows. "Iskar?" he called out in equal surprise, not expecting to run into the man today.
Iskar was a senior officer in the state army they had seen sometimes at the recruitment centre during their journey. Until recently, he was in Brilehaven, transferred to train new recruits with his experience, trusted with the years of service he had under his belts. Strohl might outrank him now, but as someone younger and a bounty hunter who had received his advice before, he respected him nonetheless, reminded of his late rhoag comrade in a way. That was why when the man came for an impromptu small chat, he returned the gesture and kept the conversation going after making sure the others didn't mind.
Despite his initial impression being on the more intimidating side, Iskar was an outgoing man. His voice was bellowing but contained warmth, and he was touchy in the way an older soldier would with a younger one. The roussainte had his hand on Strohl's shoulder, giving him a firm pat as he spoke of his work and what had changed since Strohl became in charge, catching up to the affairs in Grand Trad that he had missed out on while in Oceana.
Will, too, chimed in once in a while but faded himself out to chat about trivial things with Gallica to make up for all the time he was busy with work, sipping away at his drink as he listened to his tiny friend speak her mind.
Strohl must've gotten carried away, because he didn't notice when the clear, boyish laughter had faded, nor when Gallica fluttered off to the others' side with a pout, Will having teased her a little too much. He didn't notice the increasing frequency of Will's gaze on him as he gulped down another mouthful of mead, before refilling the mug with more when it ran out, then back to watching Strohl from the corner of his eyes again.
"...Will?" the fairy called, finally noticing how quiet he had become. When she looked closely, she realized the tip of his ears had turned dark red, the flushing slowly creeping up to his face.
Her words didn't register with him. Not even after she flew back to his side and tapped her feet on his shoulder. Will placed his mug down. The wooden tankard made a noise when it hit the table, calling Strohl's attention back to the younger elda. His brows furrowed into a peculiar expression before he opened his mouth.
"Hey... hands off... That's my wifey."
Will grumbled out with a dissatisfied pout, his eyes narrowed as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the cuff of his sleeves. He'd make a hole where Iskar's hand touched him with his eyes if he could.
(Will wasn't an easily jealous man—he had no reason to think Strohl would look at anyone else the same way he looked at him, but damn it, the world was blurry and someone was touching him so much and Strohl was so gorgeous. He couldn't have anyone else fall in love with him. Will have to put his foot down now.)
"I'm– your what—? " Strohl sputtered, barely successful at willing himself away from coughing on his own spit. He was quite sure people heard that from the way some of them turned his direction, those not recognizing Will as the king perhaps expecting a bar fight. Nothing would come of it, and all it did was make the clemar's face grow hotter.
While his relationship with Will wasn't a complete secret, look close enough and anyone could see the signs, it also wasn't public. Will had just gone and practically announced it in an inn, of all places.
Before Strohl could protest, the officer cut him off with a smile.
"My sincerest apologies, your majesty. I'll let you two have your moment now." He said in a half-whisper, taking his hands off and bowing his head to the younger man but gave Strohl another knowing pat on the back when Will wasn't looking, before leaving their table and going back to his own.
Finally noticing how inebriated Will had become, Strohl cleared his throat a little louder than he meant to. "Are you all right, your majesty?" He asked, putting on his stern 'General Strohl' persona, trying to save his composure by redirecting the conversation back to Will instead. Most of the people here were drunk anyway—if he pretended nothing happened, nobody would remember, he hoped.
"Everything's spinnin'..." Will answered with a groan, his head flopping onto the wooden table. "And don't– call me that," mumbled the young man, his voice muffled but the discontent was clear. Will didn't like being called by his title in his private time. It felt distant, according to his words, like everyone was his subjects rather than his friends. Strohl understood the sentiment, but he was not above using it against the other occasionally, being close enough to get away with it.
"Right, right." Strohl laughed dryly. In front of him was a king incapacitated. "Bloody hell. Whoever let him have this much mead needs a talking to," the clemar muttered as he reached his hand and seized Will's mug, drinking the rest of its content himself before the other could get another sip in. The alcohol slightly burned his throat, then soothed by the twinge of aromatic sweetness that probably made Will keep asking for more. Ignoring his unintelligible complaints, Strohl stood up from the table to get him some water to help him sober up. He decided against calling for Fabienne or Maria as this hour was their busiest, opting to only inform the paripus woman that he'd be refilling Will's mug with water, and to not allow him any more alcohol for the night.
(Strohl overheard someone whispering among themselves as he strutted past the other tables. A few soldiers came to hang around here once they were off-duty. The inn was an important place for their general for a reason, they had found. So aside from the usual residents of Sunshade Row, Fabienne now gets a good amount of customers from the state army too.
"General Strohl... wifey—" they tried their best not to laugh, at the very least sober enough to be aware that it was disrespectful, but the sheer absurdity of their respected general being reduced to a flustered mess by the king got to some of them in the end.)
Leaving Will at the table may have been a mistake, though.
"W– hic– where's my... wifey..." Will muttered when he eventually raised his head from the table and Strohl was no longer in front of him. His voice, thin but loud enough to reach the other, warbled, and Strohl wasn't sure if it was because he was struggling to speak properly from intoxication or if he truly was on the verge of tears. Strohl being gone from his sight might as well mean he was gone for good. "Leooonn..." The elda called for his general with a whine, almost flopping back down but then decided to push himself up from his seat instead, opting to search for his lover's whereabouts even though he was merely on the other side of the inn. Gallica tried to pull him back down with her tiny arms but to no avail.
Strohl hurried back with a mug of water just in time for Will to stumble over and into his arms. The younger elda immediately wrapped his arms around his partner's waist, looking up with his brilliant blue eyes, half-lidded yet glimmering all the same. His face flushed red from how much he had drunk.
"Are you going to leave me...?" Will muttered, sounding genuinely heartbroken, and Strohl swallowed thickly. He did his best to ignore the curious eyes of the patrons, the knowledge that what happened at the Hushed Honeybee stayed with the Hushed Honeybee only did so much to help with the awkwardness of the moment.
"I'm not, Will." He breathed soft and low as he dragged both himself and the king back to their table. Strohl now sat by his side rather than on the opposite, Will refusing to let him go even for one second.
("Should we, um, stop him?" Eupha spoke up as she watched Strohl wrestle their captain onto the bench, the younger elda clinging to him like he was afraid Strohl would leave again. They nearly tumbled at least twice before Strohl gave up and simply sat down. From then on, Will arranged himself to fit into place on his own.
It was Junah who first replied to her. "We probably should, but..." The songstress paused, putting her finger on her lips to think. "Don't you want to see where this is going?"
The mustari contemplated, before backing down and quietly taking another sip from her mug. Besides Gallica, Strohl was the best at handling their king anyway. If those two couldn't talk Will down from embarrassing himself in an inn full of people, then they probably couldn't either.
And truth be told, she does want to see where this is going, too.)
Seeing an opportunity, Will wasted no time climbing onto Strohl's lap, ignoring his startled yelp. He sat sideways, hooking his arms around the clemar's neck to support himself, and leaned his weak neck on his shoulder. Will also planted a chaste kiss on his cheek, chuckling to himself when Strohl's face changed to another shade of red, even though he was almost as flushed as him.
"Of course not," Will stated like it was an obvious truth, that Strohl would never leave him. He was probably right. Right now, Strohl couldn't imagine a future where he wouldn't follow Will even to the end of the world.
When Will stopped talking, Strohl gently lifted the younger's mug to his face, urging him to drink some water to help with his drunkenness. Fortunately, Will silently gulped it down without any protest, giving Strohl's heart a small reprieve from his onslaught of public affection.
Will wasn't done, however. A smile unfurled on his face as he nuzzled his head into the crooks of Strohl's neck, breathing in his scent—the pleasant smell of detergent Strohl always picked, still fond of doing the laundry himself even when hiring servants to help with daily tasks was a sensible thing for someone in his position, warmed the elda's heart.
"Hey, let's get married... and then you'll be– my wifey f'real...!" After a pause that almost made Strohl think he fell asleep, Will suddenly spoke up with vigor. His words slurred wildly as he tried to get the spontaneous proposal out.
Someone on their table dropped their fork. Strohl didn't see who, because he, too, was preoccupied with trying not to drop everything in his hands, which mostly consisted of Will's small body, and cover his face.
"We'll have a royal– wedding, an' then another one in Halia... your home... with just us and our friends– when the restoration's done..." He continued, all inhibitions disregarded in favor of letting Strohl know everything he wanted for them, proclaiming every embarrassing thing in his mind out loud. Their eyes met when Strohl looked down, and Will's gaze was of a man completely smitten. He had only seen Will this lost when he was charmed by the enemies' spell, but here he was, on Strohl's lap, his eyes trained on him and only him. "I might be really busy, but I swear I'll make you happy... Anythin' for my dear– hic– wifey..."
(Will was not unrealistic. He knew for a fact that there would be opposition were he to take Strohl as his spouse. A king doesn't get to marry for love. A general has no place in the royal family. He was allowed to play around with Strohl because the nobles still viewed him as a kid king, even when he had been working tirelessly every day since he took the throne to ensure the country's future.
But right now, the young king who was constantly expected to consider those rules was a giggling mess, fully immersed in that unrealistic fantasy of his, the only thing keeping him from rolling off the bench and onto the floor was the love of his life. Though at the expense of his image, Strohl can't be too upset at Will for letting himself go for once.)
(Strohl can never be too upset with him in general. The hold the elda king has on his heart is as tight as Strohl has on his.)
It was now that Strohl decided he no longer had this in control. "Let's– Let's get you back to the royal palace! Now, if you'll excuse us!" He exclaimed, scrambling to leave their share of bills on the table, trusting the others to handle it, before heaving Will up and carrying him out of the inn in a hurry. He heard Maria bidding them good night from behind with a bright giggle, but he was too flustered to face her or anyone, for that matter.
The air outside had gotten colder, night frost slowly settling in. The chilling wind hit Strohl's face the moment he stepped out of the well-lit inn into the dim street—Will was lucky to be wearing a jacket to keep him warm, as Strohl himself ditched the ceremonious outfit for more comfort and was now bearing the brunt of it.
While Sunshade Row was no longer as dangerous as it once was, it didn't mean the place didn't get scarier well into the night. They ought to do something about the lighting here soon, but for now, Strohl walked a short while away from the front of the establishment before stopping to let out an exhale, grey eyes peering down at the younger man in his arms. Their gaze met once more and Will let go of Strohl's neck with droopy eyelids and an absent-minded smile as sweet as the honey in his drinks.
Settling into his hold, Will closed his eyes, letting out a satisfied sigh as he nuzzled close into Strohl's shoulder.
"Love you, Leon..." was the last thing he murmured out before dozing off peacefully in his arms.
Strohl pressed his lips together, his heart hammering against his ribs as the picture before his eyes burned itself into his mind. He breathed out, before leaning down to place a light kiss on Will's soft silver hair covering his forehead, blushing to himself once he pulled away
"I love you too."
White sunlight bled through the curtain, signaling that it was no longer early morning, and Will woke up with a splitting headache.
He didn't need a mirror to know that he was a mess, his white hair was tousled like he had fought a horde of kokasados bare-handed in his sleep. His limbs felt heavy as he sat up in a daze. His throat parched like he had crawled through the Tradia Desert again—the place not even a desert anymore.
"You're up!" A high-pitched voice exclaimed. Gallica rushed to his side when she noticed that Will was awake but not before pulling the curtains open to let the light in, stopping when Will hissed at the brightness assaulting his senses. They ended up with a small gap that let a little bit of light in but kept the room dim still, only a little wider than how it was before.
Looking to his side, Will noticed a glass of water on his nightstand. He wasted no time swiping it and downing the entire glass in a few gulps, desperate to quench his terrible thirst. The elda let out a sigh as he placed the empty glass back down, thankful to whoever put it there. That might've been the most refreshing glass of water in his life.
"I'm never drinking that much again," he muttered, hand reaching up to squeeze his nose bridge for a moment, before patting down the stray strands of hair that stuck up, trying to make himself look a little more presentable mostly for the peace of mind.
He didn't remember much. His memories of last night slipped and melted into a single puddle of blurred images and voices a little bit after Gallica left his side, which meant he had it bad. The elda could hear Hulkenberg's scoldings in his mind, even when she wasn't there—something about 'being more careful' and 'possible assailants within the city'. Will groaned and placed his head in his hands once more.
The fairy crossed her arms, sitting down on the blanket covering his legs instead of hovering over him and sparing Will's ears from the buzzing of her wings. "Good! Because you sure gave your 'wifey' a whole lot of trouble last night." She huffed, taking it upon herself to scold him in his knight's place. Preparing him for the real thing, perhaps. However, he could hear a hint of her trying to hold herself back from laughing.
Will hadn't caught up to the quip in Gallica's words at first, but once he did, the face of a certain clemar flashed into his mind. Blood rushed to his face as he slowly recalled pieces of what he did last night, but what he said almost entirely escaped him. He didn't have to guess for long, though.
"...My what? ”