exploringcastleoblivion:

Inspired by this headcanon from ansemsapprentice.

– – – – 

Ienzo wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there among the flowers and the tombstones. Though judging by the painful cramp in his left leg, he estimated about an hour.

“Ienzo? Where are you?”

Or judging by the near frantic tone of Even’s voice, several hours could’ve been more likely. The approaching sound of rapid footsteps told him he’d been spotted, and he pushed himself stiffly to his feet and brushed off his clothes. He glanced one last time at the pair of gravestones facing him. 

Just as he prepared to turn around, tears blurred his vision and he hastily dried his eyes on his sleeve with a little more force than was necessary. No. He was always so meticulous about which emotions he let himself display in front of other people. He hated crying. Hated how small and vulnerable it made him look and feel.

But despite his best efforts, the tears he’d been withholding for the past month trickled down his face, a droplet landing upon his shoe. The footsteps came to a halt behind him but still Ienzo didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. So he hid his face with his sleeve instead, listening as Even took a deep breath as though on the verge of launching into one of his usual sharp reprimands.

But it never came.

Instead there was only a heavy silence. Then suddenly he felt a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder. Ienzo sniffled and stubbornly refused to face Even. More silence.

“It’s all right to let yourself grieve, child. Crying is nothing to be ashamed of.”

The hand hesitated then left his shoulder. Before Ienzo’s mind could register what he was doing, he had finally turned around, taken a step forward, thrown his small arms around his caretaker, and buried his face in the other’s lab coat. He let the choked sobs come now, too tired to hold them back any longer. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks but he didn’t care anymore.

“I m-miss them,” he found himself mumbling, voice muffled by fabric. “I-I’ve tried focusing on my s-tudies – try to stop th-thinking about them but it’s really – it’s really–” His small voice dissolved into another sob before growing silent once again.

“But it’s difficult,” Even finished for him. “You’ve been studying very hard lately and your work in the labs is exemplary. Your parents would be proud.”

Ienzo merely sniffed in reply, face still obscured by untidy hair and Even’s coat.

They stayed like that for several minutes, arms around the other, quiet, surrounded by flowers and tombstones until finally Ienzo pulled away, wiping his eyes once more.

“Whenever you are ready,” Even said after a moment, (surreptitiously trying to smooth his coat down where Ienzo had wrinkled it) “we should return to the castle. Lord Ansem was very worried. He will be glad to see that you’re safe from harm.”

Once Ienzo had regained his composure, they set off toward the cemetery gates and out onto the street. They walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts until they neared the marketplace and Even felt a light tug on his sleeve.

“Thank you.”