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Suzdal, Grand Principality of Vladimir
Autumn 1246
The Prince of Suzdal stood tall, as he silently treaded the path to where he knew was the Grand Prince of Vladimir's whereabouts.
The moment his eyes spotted the man's figure on the top of this mound, he couldn't help but to have noticed the way the sun's rays cascaded and caressed his face, which had left him in a way that looked as if he glowed with the setting sun. It only accentuated his figure more with that light descended from heaven.
He wasn't here to admire the man, though.
"Ira." he called out, which seemed to have startled the other.
The face which had previously been unseen to Suzdal now faced his way, the way Vladimir brightened as he saw him wasn't something he had missed. "Dyoma!" The taller let out a rather exasperated sigh. "How's it that I can never hear you?" He asked. Whether that was a rhetoric or a genuine one, he couldn't tell.
"I feel like I've told you several other times already," he retorted, as he still paid attention to the way the brunet's chuckle made him shine even brighter. "Must I repeat with every question?" Suzdal raised his brow, as he found himself standing by Vladimir's side.
"No, I don't think that's necessary," Vladimir chuckled, the voice sounding like the ringing of church bells in Suzdal's head, with how his heart shook. "But still, that doesn't mean I wouldn't be surprised that you keep doing that. You'd think someone like me would get used to it by now."
"Someone like you?" Suzdal furrowed his brows at his claim. Yes, he was certainly special, most certainly to he himself; but the way Vladimir said those words felt that there was something more behind them. He wasn't even sure what. Why was he thinking about it, in the first place?
"Oh, well," Vladimir had paused, perhaps not having expected his close friend's question. "Being the late Rus Land's son and all." he waved his hand in the air, and Suzdal stopped at that regard. Hmph, late? He thought, not holding the same belief as the grand prince did.
He had to agree that all of her children were gifted in their own way, though. It's just that Vladimir seemed to have been hit with the short end of the art of understanding. The man was especially great at leading a grand principality, so he had no qualms.
He was still endearing to him, so Suzdal supposed it didn't matter.
Why was he thinking that way, again?
"What's making you so tight-lipped?" Vladimir opened his mouth to yet another question. Suzdal couldn't find it in himself to find his behaviour annoying, when his rather stupid actions was something he liked the most about the grand prince. A man as hardened as him, be so idiotic to the Prince of Suzdal only.
Only God would know how appalling the rest of his appanages would find him, if this sort of act was more public. It left him with a good feeling that the man wasn't like this to anyone else. It was likely that Suzdal wouldn't have liked it if he did.
"Demyasha?" The grand prince started once more, his face riddled with concern.
"Irasha." Suzdal replied with the same form of name the other had just used on him. His stomach churned at the fact that the grand prince looked taken aback at the gesture. Well, that was a given, considering Suzdal never bothered calling his name in those kinds of forms. Except for now.
"That's new," the son of Rus Land pointed out the obvious. "I think I'd like it if you call me that more often." He spoke out of nowhere, which had caused a terrible reaction from Suzdal. The taller man noted how he had reacted, and blinked in confusion. "Do you not want to?"
The opposite, rather. Suzdal thought to himself. He didn't wish the older to know of what thoughts he was having in his head, and what went in his heart. "Don't bother yourself on those questions." he opted to respond rather vaguely. It was a mild annoyance to him, on how Rus Land's way of answering questions had helped him right now.
"You sound like my late mother, now." the other had seemingly taken the words out of his own head. Suzdal didn't immediately respond to that, rather, choosing to stare absentmindedly at the cloak that Vladimir wore. Made out of a white wolf's pelt, he had taken that mantle from his 'late' mother.
"Is she really late?" He asked, which had made the brunet's hand flinch. Ah, he didn't like the way the man reacted. Maybe he shouldn't have brought that up. Whatever anomaly was going on with the identity of that... so-called 'youngest sister' of Vladimir's.
Suzdal recalled how that woman had physically recoiled when grouped with Vladimir and his siblings. He had no idea how everyone decided to promptly believe that, yes, this woman was indeed Rus Land's youngest child.
He was the outlier here, who believed there was no difference from the two.
Even Vladimir didn't believe him, which shouldn't feel as bothersome as it actually did. "Dyomushka..." Vladimir trailed off, before he let out a long-winded sigh. The grand prince definitely knew Suzdal didn't really like the nickname, but he still used it nonetheless.
Suzdal himself wasn't even sure why he disliked the name. Was it really that he disliked it, or did he dislike the way his stomach kept tossing at the way the name tasted on Vladimir's mouth? The way his heart seemed to beat quicker with with every syllable? How his blood rushed to everywhere he wished it didn't?
"Well, I guess we can agree that we both disagree." the prince spoke, to put his mind off from these treacherous ponderings. He wasn't sure how much he could think about how he looked like right now. Though, noting from how Vladimir didn't notice anything, it wasn't anything too prevalent.
Hah, the grand prince wouldn't even notice, no matter how obvious it may be to others, no matter how blatant everything was to his face. It didn't matter, considering Suzdal knew he would only know if the prince bared his feelings for all to see, to know what adoration he thought of the man as.
. . .
Why in the name of God was he thinking about the grand prince that way?
"Yes, I suppose we can," Vladimir sighed once more, a way more dejected than the previous one. "Why did you come to meet me again, Dyoma?" He asked, unbothered to the idea that he should perhaps hide his curiosity from the shorter.
Well, Suzdal couldn't deny how much he preferred the man to keep doing this, so he didn't point that out. "Ah, Vara wanted to meet you," he mentioned of the man's capital city. When their prince had decided to transfer his seat of power, it had went from the city of Suzdal to Vladimir, after all. "I don't know why."
"Ah, could I not do that a bit later?" The Grand Prince of Vladimir had asked—no, practically begged—to stay here; with him. That last part wasn't something directly spoken anywhere, but Suzdal could read through the lines. Whether or not he was right, or that he was simply projecting his own wishes to the older, he knew not of.
"Our prince had sacked Kiev," Suzdal went on to remind the man, who promptly frowned at that. Peculiar, really. Why would he not like the reminder? "and it is our principality that holds most of the power here. Other than Vitaly's of course," he referenced the towering man that was Novgorod, Rus Land's only blood child. "I've led the principality once, but right now, you pull the reins."
"I liked it more when you were in control," Vladimir let out an off-handed comment. The grand prince hadn't an inkling on what his words resulted on the Prince of Suzdal. God bless how Suzdal was a master of concealing his own emotions, even if he always came close to not doing so when it came to this special man. "You're basically saying you don't want me to be here."
"I didn't say that," Suzdal retorted, displeased by how the other had the same knack as his mother. Twisting another's words to something they didn't at all mean. The look on Vladimir's face told him all he needed to know that he was playing with his feelings. "I'm telling you to step on the responsibility of being the Zemstvo of the Grand Principality of Vladimir, Ira."
Vladimir frowned at that. "Alright, then," his shoulders had practically drooped. "I'll do it because you're asking me to." He spoke way too lightly. Suzdal furrowed his brows at that.
"That is an awful motivation." He bluntly put forward his own thoughts.
"Why would it be?" Vladimir asked, thoroughly befuddled at the younger man's judgement. "You and Father Ilarion had been by my side for a long time now," he mentioned Rostov out of nowhere. Which might seem out of reach, until one realised that the man was Suzdal's own biological father. "You especially taught me how to lead a country like this. How could it not be a good motivation?" He asked.
"Because then your appanages would have worrying thoughts of you," of myself, Suzdal corrected. But the man didn't have to know that. "One that I don't think I can allow to happen."
"Like what, Dyoma?" Like what I think about you, and how it might cloud my judgement. Like how they'd think of you the same way, and how they'd find your resolution flawed.
"They'd think of you a weak ruler," Suzdal paused. "Which, I know full well you are not. And sure, Arey—we all know he'd be your appanage soon—wouldn't think of you that way," Vladimir seemed to have physically lightened up at the mention of his own son. "But I can't guarantee on what the others would think of you if you make that your reason, Irasha." He explained.
"Well, I think Posidosiya wouldn't think of me that way." Suzdal couldn't help but to blink dumbfoundedly at the mention of the man's younger sister. Really, this man was sharp, but not in the terms of people's perception of him. While yes, Suzdal would agree that Beloozero wouldn't view him negatively—that woman wasn't all of his appanages.
"Just—" Suzdal sighed at trying to reason with him. "Ira..."
"All your words make me want to know what exactly you're trying to tell me," Vladimir crossed his arms across his chest. "Can you not give me a much more convincing answer, Demyasha?"
Suzdal stared at him in disbelief, before he finally spoke. "Irashka."
Vladimir looked rather taken aback at his words. Much more than before, which had gave Suzdal a strange feeling of satisfaction. He really shouldn't feel this way to a man. "Yes?" He asked after a long void between the two. This time, much more hesitant than before. Suzdal liked the kind of face Vladimir was making right now—perhaps the other was flustered.
"Go," he requested. It was a simple one, to have him commit to his duties and to go to his capital city. He just wasn't sure why Vladimir didn't want to be the kind of Zemstvo he was now. One who held much power in his grasp. He knew why he himself wanted Vladimir to stay, but that wasn't something which aligned with Vladimir's destiny. "Now, to Vara."
Vladimir turned his eyes down to the ground, before he relented. "Alright."
The way the man shifted, he stopped to look at Suzdal one last time, before he went ahead to where the prince had originally emerged from.
Suzdal let out a sigh again, now that he was left alone.
"This cannot be real..." he trailed off, as he ran his fingers through his hair.
His hand grasped his lower jaw, as he tried to grapple over whatever thoughts those were which kept invading his mind. A fortress under siege, and that his mind was losing to it. His tousled locks of long hair hung in the air, obstructing his view, before he pulled them back.
"It would've been better if one of us was a woman..." he closed his eyes in dejection as he sat on the grass below him. "Irakly Boguvlastovich, what I wish to do to you..."
As much as Suzdal wished for what he felt to be requited, he knew the chance of that was slim.
It would be best if Vladimir didn't know.
No one needed to know what Principality of Suzdal thought about Grand Principality of Vladimir.