"Fall asleep at your desk more often," Jacob replies lightly, fingers removing the ribbon from Anduin's hair completely, so he can stroke through without anything in his way, knowing that Anduin will be able to re-tie it later.
"It's a strange place out there right now. People hiding where they can, hiding in that old church, hiding in the Arena. Oswald's taking them in, but only because Vrenille is twisting his arm." He pauses, glancing down to make sure the softness of his voice is lulling Anduin into resting, despite what he's actually saying. "And all this... resctructing. It's going to make things bloody hard afterward, no matter who wins."
"It will. But we'll find a way to help them, I'm certain of it."
He has to be. He has to maintain that hope because the lack of it isn't an option. There are too many here who still need someone willing to stand firm and true, to offer that shield and aid when needed. It's all he's ever wanted to do.
Despite the exhaustion, it feels good to help so many. Of course he immediately feels guilt at that thought. It would be far better if they didn't need the help at all. But for once, he feels as if he's actually making a difference here.
"Trouble is finding the place to start." Jacob murmurs, knowing full well that he's not exactly done what he intended to do when he got here. He knows the place well, he knows who controlled what, at least until all this started. He knew the SIN Guard patrol routes and the best points to spy on them, but what good has that done?
Evie would be disappointed. Hell, he's disappointed.
He lets out a long exhale and tries to focus on Anduin instead. "Pretty sure you'll find a way through. And if I can help, you know I will."
At that, Anduin's expression gentles, lips curving slightly as his eyes slit open just so. "You always do," he murmurs, voice rich with fondness, as one hand drifts up to brush against his. "You're my rock. I think I'd be lost without you."
Earnest, steadfast and loyal, Jacob had helped him through so much already. He'd been there for his first unsteady steps in the city, helped him navigate his feelings on so many aspects of life here, came to his aid whenever Anduin was in trouble, and the day he'd said he'd contract with him was still one of the happiest he could recall.
Whatever trouble came, if Jacob was by his side? He could weather it.
"If you mean I'm rough and heavy, you're probably right." Jacob replies, but there's a smile on his lips as he looks at Anduin, as he feels the warmth of those words bolster him and make him feel... feel more like the man Anduin thinks he is, rather than the man Jacob believes himself to be.
"We'll be okay. Us, the city. People have gotten through worse with less." That he knows to be the truth, and while they are a very mixed bag, that brings strength. Everyone has something to offer, everyone can help others in their own way. He believes that, and he knows Anduin does too.
And already he can feel his mind trying to pull himself back to the task at hand. So many people in need, and here he is lying down on the job. If it weren't for the fact that he knew Jacob would pull him right back down again, he'd already be on his feet again.
"No, it doesn't." Jacob will agree to that readily enough. "But slow progress is better than no progress, and so I caution you not to bugger yourself now."
Or, in English: I can feel you trying to get up, Anduin. You promised me you'd rest. Not that anyone, not Jacob, not Gilia, not Wrathion, can stop Anduin when he has his mind made up. But he tries, at least, to make sure that he saves some of his strength.
Fair enough. He can read what's being said, enough for the tension to leech out of him once more. A soft chuckle leaves his lips, fingers curling loosely against Jacob's shirt front.
"When did you become the voice of measured reason, and I the impatient one?" he murmurs, with a tinge of wry amusement.
Jacob smiles, feeling Anduin's fingers cling to him so gently, he can't resist bringing his free hand up to curl their hands together.
"I think it happens when you threaten to hurt my king in some way. Overwork him, tire him out, force him to skip meals. The bodyguard in me comes out and I can barely hold him back."
"Mm. I know from experience he's quite daunting. And very resolute in his duties."
Mouth curling higher, Anduin lets out a small breath to relax once more. He knows he's his own worst enemy when it comes to this sort of thing. He shouldn't make it any harder for Jacob than it ought to be.
Perhaps just a few moments to drift, then. Safe in his arms. That would be enough.
Jacob isn't about to agree with that- he's not daunting, he's not frightening, but he does try and give the impression that starting something with him is more hassle than it's worth. Still, he knows it's a compliment, and so he doesn't argue.
Neither does he speak again, knowing that he's likely to make Anduin stir again, and he wants him to get some real rest. So he'll just stay there, stroking his hair with one hand, his other hand entwined with Anduin's own.
They don't need anything else, and for a moment, they both could do with the peace and the quiet.
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"It's a strange place out there right now. People hiding where they can, hiding in that old church, hiding in the Arena. Oswald's taking them in, but only because Vrenille is twisting his arm." He pauses, glancing down to make sure the softness of his voice is lulling Anduin into resting, despite what he's actually saying. "And all this... resctructing. It's going to make things bloody hard afterward, no matter who wins."
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He has to be. He has to maintain that hope because the lack of it isn't an option. There are too many here who still need someone willing to stand firm and true, to offer that shield and aid when needed. It's all he's ever wanted to do.
Despite the exhaustion, it feels good to help so many. Of course he immediately feels guilt at that thought. It would be far better if they didn't need the help at all. But for once, he feels as if he's actually making a difference here.
For as long as that lasts, anyway.
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Evie would be disappointed. Hell, he's disappointed.
He lets out a long exhale and tries to focus on Anduin instead. "Pretty sure you'll find a way through. And if I can help, you know I will."
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Earnest, steadfast and loyal, Jacob had helped him through so much already. He'd been there for his first unsteady steps in the city, helped him navigate his feelings on so many aspects of life here, came to his aid whenever Anduin was in trouble, and the day he'd said he'd contract with him was still one of the happiest he could recall.
Whatever trouble came, if Jacob was by his side? He could weather it.
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"We'll be okay. Us, the city. People have gotten through worse with less." That he knows to be the truth, and while they are a very mixed bag, that brings strength. Everyone has something to offer, everyone can help others in their own way. He believes that, and he knows Anduin does too.
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And already he can feel his mind trying to pull himself back to the task at hand. So many people in need, and here he is lying down on the job. If it weren't for the fact that he knew Jacob would pull him right back down again, he'd already be on his feet again.
Even as tired as he still is.
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Or, in English: I can feel you trying to get up, Anduin. You promised me you'd rest. Not that anyone, not Jacob, not Gilia, not Wrathion, can stop Anduin when he has his mind made up. But he tries, at least, to make sure that he saves some of his strength.
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"When did you become the voice of measured reason, and I the impatient one?" he murmurs, with a tinge of wry amusement.
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"I think it happens when you threaten to hurt my king in some way. Overwork him, tire him out, force him to skip meals. The bodyguard in me comes out and I can barely hold him back."
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Mouth curling higher, Anduin lets out a small breath to relax once more. He knows he's his own worst enemy when it comes to this sort of thing. He shouldn't make it any harder for Jacob than it ought to be.
Perhaps just a few moments to drift, then. Safe in his arms. That would be enough.
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Neither does he speak again, knowing that he's likely to make Anduin stir again, and he wants him to get some real rest. So he'll just stay there, stroking his hair with one hand, his other hand entwined with Anduin's own.
They don't need anything else, and for a moment, they both could do with the peace and the quiet.