Coronation

[featheredflames]

It is all far too much attention for Joshua's liking.

He knew this was how it would be, that there would be a certain amount of fussing the be expected...but this was beyond the scope of acceptable fussing surely. So much unnecessary commotion over a fitting of ceremonial robes that he wouldn't wear more than a handful of times at that... Would it not be better to spend time focusing on the clothing he would be draped in when he finally dawned his father's mantle? The day-to-day wear that he would need to sport as Archduke of Rosaria.

That would come later, in time, he had been reassured. This outfit would get at least a few days of wear out of it. The ceremony was to last more than a singular evening, festivities dragging on for nearly a week after the event of the coronation itself. Already Joshua feels weary at the thought. Fancy suppers and meeting with dignitaries were in his future but right now his present reality was a miserable one. Fabric is cinched around his waist as measurements are taken and pins are adjusted. He feels like a doll as he's fitted, made to stand for bells on end. Founder he could only hope that some semblance of reprieve would find him soon, hopefully before his knees gave out...

Swallowing he stares out the window, doing his best not to move as the tailors do their work as quickly as they can. It would be unfair if he told them to stop - they were only doing as they had been instructed to, to rework and refit the robes his father wore on his crowning day. Joshua cannot help but think they don't suit him - Clive would wear (and fit!) them far better than he. Yet it was tradition...and while he may be able to escape the tailors ere long, there was no escaping protocol and the duty that loomed over him.

Comments

[flamebrand]

Far be it for Clive to speak on behalf of their father, a man he can only hope to emulate, but still. The words are out of his mouth before he can temper them, delivered in that soft whisper he assumes whenever he wants to convey something important. A strange habit of his, that he speaks so quietly when he wants to be heard.

"You already have. Look at you."

Of age, wrapped in regalia, alive. It's the only thing Clive could ever ask of Joshua: to be whole, to be here.

"Of age, having endured the worst of this world with grace and kindness. You make Rosaria proud; you make me proud, every day."

[featheredflames]

Look at him.

Joshua looks down at himself, at his body, at the drapery he's been coated in. It is true that he's endured a lot, but so has Clive. So have many of their people. He cannot think of himself as special by any means...but if Clive is proud of him, what would ever be better than having his favour?

"Clive..."

His face feels hot, cheeks pink. He shouldn't grow teary, he can't wipe his eyes if he does what with the way he's pinned, but he gives his brother a heartfelt smile that lights up the entire room.

"I could say the same of you. I would not be standing here if it weren't for your support."

[flamebrand]

Founder, that smile. The most radiant thing in the Twins. It's small wonder that the Phoenix bypassed him for Joshua: his brother is brightness incarnate, a being of pure light. The Firebird must have known that Joshua would be born perfect.

And, well. The compliment he's given settles over Clive, warm and gauzelike. He shakes his head in customary deference, but the gentle lowering of his brows and the pleasant slant of his lips stay in place. The rest of the world― which exists, plainly, as other men and women currently occupying the room― blurs into obscurity for just a moment, before Clive allows it to come back into focus again.

Right. They're not alone. Best not to get too lost.

"You've needed it far less than you think." Joshua can stand on his own. He's no longer the little boy who spent more days in bed than not, and the world should know as such. "But you have it, now and forevermore."

The maid scurrying about near him squeaks under her breath as she bustles by. Clive laughs, and closes his eyes.

"I should keep quiet, before I embarrass myself further."

[featheredflames]

Joshua thinks it ought to be the opposite - that Clive should speak more - but perhaps his brother does have a point. They are making quite the scene by simply pouring platitudes over one another. Any more should be reserved for a more private time, if they can be awarded such a luxury.

"You flatter me, brother." Not that he's opposed to it, but the attendant at his feet is looking rather red. Best to shift the subject while he still can. "Will you be occupied later? I would very much like to have supper with you this evening, if our schedules align."

[flamebrand]

"There's nothing that requires my immediate attention," is his easy answer to whether he can open his schedule for a dinner with Joshua. "If His Grace wants me at his dinner table, then so be it."

They can visit Ambrosia, then Clive can relinquish Joshua to get changed for dinner before reconvening. A solid plan, if he's ever heard any. Clive will also have to slip out of metal and steel, given that it's generally frowned upon to stink of bird at the dinner table.

"I might even sit by your side, and pick the vegetables off your plate."

[featheredflames]

"My hero. A true Shield of Rosaria you are." If Clive is going to tease him then he is going to tease him in turn. "I will be grateful for your assistance, as I heard whisperings from the kitchens that stew will be served." Which meant mushy carrots. The absolute worst.

Hopefully there would be tarts or whipping cream to whet his sweet tooth once the main course was over.

"I will meet you down by the stables?" As much as he enjoys Clive watching him this will be finished far faster if the tailors and attendants don't have to be privy to their idle chatter and teasing.

[flamebrand]

The Archduke of Rosaria, still quaking at the sight of carrots. Clive spares himself a moment to smile about it, before conceding the point that yes, he is being a bother. Even corralled to the side of the room, he's a distraction from the proceedings.

With a low sigh, he pushes himself up from his casual lean against the wall.

"That would be for the best." He can moon over Joshua at the coronation proper; there's still time enough yet for him to cry over his brother's beauty. "I'll ready the greens for you to give to Ambrosia later."

Indulgent as ever. He spares one last nod to his brother before turning on his heels, carefully stepping over a pile of crimson fabric on his way out and towards the stables.

[featheredflames]

Joshua is, admittedly, sad to see his brother go, even if it is for the best that there are no more distractions during the fitting. It seems to be the right course of action however, for the attendants finish up their duty soon after. Released from his prison of pins and fabric, Joshua is quick to dress in simpler attire for the stables. It does not take him long to find his brother, and he smiles in greeting, hurrying over with a bounce in his step.

"Clive!" He waves to him, slowing to a stop as he comes to the entranceway. The smell of birds and hay is an overpowering scent, but it is welcome in its own way to a boy who always spent far too much time inside. "Have I kept you waiting long?"

[flamebrand]

Clive, a black-and-red shadow in the dim of the stables, brightens at the sight of Joshua approaching, and straightens from where he'd laid out the promised greens on top of a few overturned crates. There will always be something touching about his brother having grown into better health over the years; Clive still worries, but some of the constant vigilance has waned over time.

"Joshua." A greeting, as he wipes his hand on his leg. Casual, even. Foregoing Your Grace, as there's no one around to posture for. "Not at all. You've done far more waiting today than I have."

An ordeal and a half, fittings. Behind Clive, Ambrosia lifts her head at the sound of Joshua's voice, and crows enthusiastically in greeting. Her other favorite Rosfield!!!

[featheredflames]

As much as Joshua enjoys Clive fussing over him, his genuine worry is something that has always left him feeling guilty. Being indulged and doted on is one thing, but the last thing he's wanted ever is to be the source of undue stress for his brother. Thankfully in recent years that has changed somewhat. Even so, Clive would always be overprotective.

Grin splitting across his face he joins Clive at his side before his attention is, naturally diverted to Ambrosia. She's eager to greet him and he in turn cannot help but laugh, reaching out with his hands to stroke her beak and feathers.

"Oh, if it isn't Her Highness." Yes, Ambrosia is chocobo royalty, as far as Joshua has always been concerned. "Have you been keeping well?"

[flamebrand]

More happy trilling from Ambrosia, who leans to nuzzle her face against Joshua's hair, his cheek. It's as much of an answer to how she's been as anything can be, though she also projects her discontent at being neglected (dramatic― it really hasn't been that long since Joshua last visited) by flapping her wings and urging Joshua closer with a few insistent chirps.

"She still thinks you to be eight, not eighteen," Clive observes, which is met with another little wiggle on Ambrosia's part, and a clicking of her beak. Silence, big Rosfield! The birds are talking!

[featheredflames]

"Well, she is still bigger than I am." He huffs out a laugh at her outburst, moving closer to obey her order. Her wiggles and chirping are, as always, charming, and Joshua is more than happy to indulge the chocobo in whatever way he can.

"Will I always be your chick, Ambrosia? I do not think I can easily fit beneath your wings as I once did." But that doesn't stop him from looping his arms around her neck. Whatever stress he had been carrying in his shoulders earlier melts away on contact.

"What a lovely bird you are."

[flamebrand]

Two lovely birds, as far as Clive is concerned. It's hard to keep his expression from sliding towards this side of doting, but the sentiment is clear on Clive's face anyway: blue eyes pool soft and warm, and his lips settle into a relaxed, settled arc as he watches Ambrosia nest around Joshua as best she can.

Very sweet. If Ambrosia had the standard chocobo coloring, they really might have been mistaken for a mother and her chick.

"Careful, brother. She may want to keep you for the rest of the night."

A step forward, and Clive touches his palm to the small of Joshua's back. To steady him, is his excuse― in truth, it's only an excuse to touch.

[featheredflames]

"As much as I would love to stay the night with such a lovely lady, I have prior arrangements."

He grins cheekily toward his brother, unable to help keep the warm blush from his cheeks when he feels Clive's palm steady him. He leans into the touch ever so slightly, just because he can. It's fine, is it not?

Ambrosia seems to be disappointed that she can't have Joshua all to herself, but he quickly placates her with a promise of fresh greens. "We brought you treats, since you so very much deserve them."

[flamebrand]

Joshua lists closer, and Clive can smell him even above the scent of hay and bird: parchment, ink, incense. Something warm and wicked blooms in the pit of his stomach, a desire that simmers every time his brother breaches the carefully-curated walls of Clive's personal space.

It isn't done, to want Joshua the way he does. Flesh and blood, Twin Flames. Clive already has him in every way that should matter; anything else would be ruinous.

Still, he leans, and noses against soft blond hair. The hungry creature in his chest rumbles in affirmation, whispers yes yes yes in Ifrit's sandpaper hiss―

―but Ambrosia snaps Clive out of his reverie with a rather emphatic chirp, indicating that the elder Rosfield should let go of her baby so that she can have the treats she deserves. No funny business, on her watch.

"...The greens. Right." Clive clears his throat, and steps away to fetch the items in question to hold out for Joshua to take.

[featheredflames]

No, there will be no delaying her treats if Ambrosia has any say in the matter. In a way she is a godsend, for Joshua finds himself holding his breath when the warmth of his brother's dampens the nape of his neck. He isn't expecting Clive to draw closer, to nose him the way Torgal would. Did he smell good? Was something wrong? Or did he feel it too, that inexplicable draw...

Founder bless the bird before him, for if Clive hadn't pulled away he may have turned to kiss him.

Ah...did he really just think that?

Taking the offered greens he gingerly turns to Ambrosia, sheepish. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Your Highness."

[flamebrand]

While his brother is busy with Ambrosia, Clive takes a few steps back to watch from a safe distance, arms folded across his chest to keep his wandering hands in check. He'd assumed that time would allay the simmering wrongness brewing under his skin, and that he would compose himself enough not to let terrible compulsions overtake his reason.

That hasn't been the case. The itch grows harder to ignore, year by year and day by day; Clive's love has metastasized into something beyond excising. Beyond duty or obligation or familial affection.

But it's impossible, he knows, to stop loving Joshua in any way, so the next thing out of his mouth is as fond as he ever is.

"You two make a pretty picture."

[featheredflames]

"Do we now?"

Ambroisa munches thoughtfully, giving him a full-bodied shake of her feathers in agreement while her beak is occupied. Yes, she is a very pretty bird, and so is Joshua. Thank you Clive for recognizing such truth.

A thoughtful finger taps against Joshua's chin as he looks between himself and the chocobo, before his gaze settles back on his brother.

"Shall I commission a portrait of us from one of the court painters? I am sure they would be delighted to indulge me."

[flamebrand]

A fond chuckle, at that.

"And what will the portrait be titled? 'Twin Birds of Rosaria'?"

Ambrosia has swiftly replaced Clive in the 'twins' department; Clive isn't angry about it. She's a very good chocobo, and has been loyal and dedicated to the both of them when humans were harder to trust than animals. Assigned to him as she is, Clive feels far safer when Ambrosia is with Joshua for any outings that require his brother to ride out of the castle gates. (Few and far in between.)

"It'd be a handsome painting, to be sure. But I doubt you'll be so eager after the portraits you'll have to stand for post-coronation."

[featheredflames]

Twin Birds of Rosaria. Haha, very funny Clive.

Even if Clive thinks that Ambrosia matches him better, Joshua would be one to disagree. She was still Clive's bird through and through, even if it was obvious that she was fond of him as well.

The smile on his face soon turns upside down at the mention of what will be expected of him after his coronation. The drudgery...he is not looking forward to it by any means.

"Founder, do not remind me. I want to forget for the few moments of freedom I still have before I become chained to that throne."

But he's quick to right the curve of his lips as he grabs more greens to feed the chocobo before him. "Mayhaps I will have you stand with me for one, just to make it fair."

[flamebrand]

"If we're to be fair," Clive corrects, "I would have to stand with you for more than just one."

Several portraits are in Joshua's future: one that will hang imperious in a main wing of Rosalith Castle, one that will sit more primly alongside a history of previous Rosfields, smaller depictions that will find their places in galleries and sitting rooms. It will be strange, Clive thinks, to see his brother's serene face placed beside a younger, more round-faced version of Elwin; another addition to a long line of Phoenixes and interims, none of them who lived longer than they ought to have.

A morbid thought. Especially before his brother's coronation, which should be a joyous, momentous occasion. Clive sets it aside for contemplation on a rainy day, and instead, keeps the tone and topic as light as the smile on his face.

"I don't know if the artist would consent to my standing beside you. I'd ruin the piece with my scowling."

[featheredflames]

"It would not be up to them, would it? It would be my choice."

And if that truly were the case, his obvious choice would be to have his brother by his side. They were a pair, and Joshua would rather not be depicted without Clive if he could have his way. Let the history books know that he was only where he was because of his brother.

"I am sure they can paint a smile if need be. I would have my Shield and brother stand with me."

[flamebrand]

History is a complicated thing to contemplate. Clive wonders, sincerely, how Ifrit the Blasphemous will be remembered alongside the Phoenix－ if, indeed, the scribes will record the second Eikon of Fire's existence at all, or if Clive will be subject to erasure the way it seems Ifrit has been consigned to for centuries, buried under the rubble of silence.

It isn't done, really, for Rosaria to venerate anyone but the Firebird. As far as Clive knows about the Undying and their efforts, they've worked tirelessly to curate what the world currently knows of the Rosfield line.

Things to consider. But, on the other hand, things that are far less important to Clive than what Joshua wants, which is why his answer to my choice in Joshua's soft voice is:

"Whatever you wish, then."

His brother asks for so little and gets far less than he needs, besides. Clive will indulge him with a portrait or two or twenty, even if they get burned after the fact.

To punctuate, he moves beside his brother and places his lips to the crown of his head. Friendly, warm. Much in the way he did when they were still children, when affection was easily given without external (or internal) scrutiny.

"I'll work on my smile."

[featheredflames]

If Joshua is to have his way, which he is determined to once he's been sworn in as Archduke, Clive will never be forgotten. It is disheartening every time he hears the title Ifrit has been given, to know that others think his brother an abomination or something unnatural. So what if there were two Dominants of fire? Rosaria should feel blessed to have two natural born Eikons to protect her.

He is not expecting the soft press of lips to his head but it warms him immediately, cheeks ruddy as he stands, stilled for a moment. Every little moment Clive will grant him where they can comfort one another is more precious than any jewels or gold. If only he could have such affection more often.

"Your smile is already perfect as it is. You simply need to use it more."

Toward him, he wants to say, as he holds the remaining greens in hand. If only he was empty handed, he would embrace his brother right now.

[flamebrand]

Does he not smile enough? Joshua gives him cause enough to soften that Clive is under the impression that he must be all rounded corners around his brother, but maybe that isn't quite so; the other side of that same coin is the white-knuckled grip he has around the reins keeping his overeager heart at bay, and he knows that that internally-gripped fist may look like austerity.

He can feel it now, that magnetic tug. Ifrit, reaching for the Phoenix. His aether, humming in time to Joshua's. Despite it, he tries to give his brother what he wants.

"You see the most of it."

Lips curved, traveling from hair to temple. Just a soft brush of mouth against skin. Clive tries not to think about how electric it is, how something hot travels from the base of his spine and sparks behind his eyes.