I get a little bit Genghis Khan

[vacabdication]

[ There have been continents and decades passed between when Ajay and Pagan knew each other. Happily, Ajay’s time in Kyrat to date has made Pagan very aware of at least one thing they still share; a flair for the dramatic. Such a flair is probably at least partly to blame for why it’s been night on impossible for Pagan to get a message to Ajay about meeting without Ajay dramatically disposing of the messenger. There’s the radio, of course, but Pagan doesn’t quite trust that nobody is listening in, and it wouldn’t do to have any of those delightful little monkeys decide to try and off Ajay for fraternizing with the enemy. So he lays the groundwork, plants the idea – ends one of his rambling calls with I’ll have to have you to dinner, sometime, and leaves it at that.

Then it’s terribly easy to have Ajay scooped up after those awful little tourists send him out on a jaunt on one of their experimental substances – god, a look at the two of them and it’s easy to remember why, accent aside, he is far more likely to present himself as of Hong Kong than of England – and brought back to the palace. Of course, he’s high as a bloody kite, and Pagan is rather proud of the delicacies he’s acquired for their little soiree a deux, so he has Ajay sequestered in a private room to recover. There is a fully stocked ensuite attached, which Pagan prays Ajay will use, and his clothes are filthy so Pagan has them ferreted away to be washed (and in some cases, mended) and a selection more suited to dinner with a King left for Ajay to choose from – a classic black tuxedo, a rather dashing and elaborately embroidered kurta set, several beautiful suits in an array of colours, even a selection of wonderful blazers and (please no) designer jeans, should that prove more within Ajay’s comfort zone. And, most importantly, a gilt invitation to dinner on thick, creamy-coloured card waiting for him on the bedside table when he wakes.

It might be sensible to have Ajay’s weapons removed, too. For maintenance, he could say. It would be a terrible, tragic loss if Ajay Ghale, son of Mohan and great hope of the Golden Path, were to suffer a sticky trigger while facing down a tiger, after all. But Pagan Min is not a sensible man, and so he chooses to give preference to the semi he gets thinking about an immaculately dressed Ajay vaulting the table to hold a pistol to Pagan’s temple rather than common sense.

After all, for Pagan Min to host a dull dinner would be unthinkable. ]

Comments

[vaaris]

[ why the fuck does he want to believe him

the food was drugged. it had to be. with some kind of weird belief serum. ]

You shot up my bus. And then you killed a guy. With a pen.

That's how you pick people up?

[vacabdication]

Not my finest moment, I'll admit. My temper got the better of me, because a man to whom I have given one very specific job had just got it wrong in almost the worst way possible. There I was, eagerly waiting the arrival of a boy I hadn't seen since he was a toddler, now a grown man, and that fucking muppet shot up the bus he was on.

I should, perhaps, regret my actions more than I do. I'm selfishly more concerned with the outcome.

[vaaris]

[ wait, actually -- that sort of rings a bell. granted, the whole thing with the pen had kicked ajay over into a tunnel vision of shock, but hadn't pagan been ranting something about that? at least, it rings true enough that ajay can't just dismiss it outright, and. ]

Why do you care? [ he blurts it out, confused and halfway to overwhelmed. ] I know you had some kind of creepy obsession with my mom, but --

[vacabdication]

[ Creepy? Ouch. Well, it would be painted that way by the Golden Path, certainly. The Tarun Matara and their most reviled enemy? What else could it possibly be? ]

Your mother was sent here, to me. As a spy, initially, though she later chose to remain of her own accord. And the key piece to making that ruse believable was the presence of her infant son.

You lived here for nearly two years, Ajay. I can show you the room that used to be yours, if you want to see it. Photographs. I think there may even be a home movie or two.

[vaaris]

Sent here? To you?

[ no fucking way. pagan is crazy, dangerous, and that's now. how much worse must he have been back in his prime? it's not someone you sent an unarmed woman and her child to spy on, no fucking way.

but when pagan's face doesn't immediately crack into an aw shucks grin that reveals the whole thing to be some kind of joke, the doubt creeps back in. ]

Who --? [ but there can really only be one answer. and his mind slams shut on the possibility as soon as it surfaces, punctuated by a hard shake of his head. ] No.

Is this your way of getting me to turn on the Golden Path? [ standing up suddenly, the chair screeching as it gets shoved abruptly backwards. ] Kidnapping me, feeding me, telling me a bunch of bullshit?

[vacabdication]

Heavens, no. You were always very eager to please as a child. Make somebody laugh once and you'd dedicate days to repeating it. Your mother gave me hell for how hard I laughed when you repeated one of the gardeners saying bhenchod. No, I don't imagine you'll turn from the Golden Path until they stop dramatically demonstrating how much they need you. But I'll be here. When the time comes, when you understand everything that happened, I'll be here. You may still want to kill me, and you may well have earned that, but for god's sake don't do it uninformed. Don't do it for somebody else.

[ It's a shame he put his phone in the gravy. He could have called someone to bring the photo albums. Well, it's less convincing, as Pagan isn't in the picture to show togetherness, but he takes his pen box from his pocket and lays out the contents. Turns the pen so the engraving faces up, towards Ajay:

For you, my love
Ishwari

and the picture tucked into the box - Ishwari Ghale, cradling a small boy in her arms. ]

I have carried you beside my heart for years, Ajay Ghale. I can wait a little longer.

[vaaris]

[ what

the

fuck

ajay is distantly aware that the thundering in his head is the roar of his own pulse, nearly loud enough to drown out the unsteady hitch of his own breathing. no, no -- he knew his mother, and she wasn't the type of person to fall in love with a dictator. she wouldn't even let him turn the news on in the house because of how much it hurt her to hear about people she didn't know suffering in places she'd never been; there's no way she could have turned her back on all the pain pagan caused here.

what about mohan? and if she'd loved pagan, why would she have run from him? ]

You're lying. [ but it's weak, as shaky as the ground underneath his feet, and his denial doesn't make the inscription on that pen go away, doesn't cause the picture beside it to fade. he has a sudden, childish urge to reach out and shove the box away, but his hands won't listen to him -- instead, his knees go out from under him all at once, and it's luck and little else that his chair is still close enough for him to slump into. ] You're --

She would have told me. [ and it comes out raw, wounded. ]

[vacabdication]

There's a selfish part of me that hoped she might have. I did hope there was still room for me in her heart, after everything that happened. But I'm not surprised that she didn't. Frankly I'm surprised she spoke to you about Kyrat at all. It was a hard road that brought us together, our little family, and a far harder one that led her away.

[ Well. That's dinner ruined. And Pagan would very much like another drink, or perhaps a line, but there's time enough for that. Right now, he has a more pressing concern. ]

Ajay. Would you like me to take you to Lakshmana?

[vaaris]

[ he's been slowly slouching forward, almost curling in on himself, but the question makes him snap his head back up. the look he gives pagan is half-wild -- a stray animal presented with an offered hand, not sure whether to bite or bark or flee -- but then his eyes slide towards the urn with his mother's ashes, and it's like something there breaks all over again.

finding lakshmana means leaving her. it means goodbye. ]

I --

[vacabdication]

[ Oh, it's hard. Too hard, suddenly. More than he can bear. It's not hard to follow the line of Ajay's gaze to the urn, and suddenly there's a tight ache in Pagan's chest where he's fairly certain he used to have a heart. It's foolish - quite the stupidest thing he's done since agreeing to De Pleur's enthusiastic I wanna meet this kid - but Pagan pushes out of his chair, walks to Ajay's, and gathers him up in a hug.

Perhaps, if he's very lucky, the internal conflict will be enough to distract Ajay from killing him. ]

[vaaris]

[ he's so wrapped up in his head that he doesn't even notice when pagan closes the distance between them, but that first bit of physical contact makes him jolt. he's an electric livewire of tension, practically vibrating with all the pent-up potential to move within him. he could shove pagan away from him, he could fumble for the kukri still strapped to his thigh, he could -- ]

Don't. [ but it's a rasp, and a direct contrast to the way his hands come up to grip at the lapels of pagan's jacket. ]

[vacabdication]

It's alright. You don't have to decide now.

[ She's a hard woman to let go of. Pagan knows, and he only had her in his life for a couple of years. Ajay had her as his whole world for much longer. And though Ajay's words are pretty clear Pagan chooses to listen to his hands instead, doesn't move. Keeps holding him, the way he's ached to. ]

[vaaris]

She asked me to.

[ sabal and amita would kill him for this. hell, maybe ajay even hates himself a little for it -- but there'd been no one after his mom died. hell, there'd barely been anyone else at the funeral, and no one that he really knew. definitely no one close enough to wrap him up like this, to say i know how much it hurts because that's how much it hurts me too without saying anything at all. no one willing to hold him while he shook himself to pieces.

fuck, has he even cried since that night in the hospital? ]

It was the only thing --

[vacabdication]

And you will. You will. When you're ready. You don't strike me as a boy who breaks promises. But if I know anything about your mother, it's that she loved you enough to tear her world apart to keep you safe. She wouldn't have wanted to hurt you.

[ Tore her world apart, and Pagan's too. And he can't even begrudge her that, because it was the right thing to do. If she hadn't done it, if she hadn't been the kind of woman who would, would he ever even have fallen in love with her? ]

[vaaris]

[ ajay shudders at the sound of that, at absolution from a man who shouldn't be able to give him any. it's fucked up that he craves it, fucked up that he wants to believe it; especially in the wake of this, a dawning knowledge that coming to kyrat and getting himself tangled up in its civil war had nothing to do with being a good son after all. ]

I was the one who -- [ it tears out of him, painfully and bloody, like someone reached inside and ripped it free. he's never told anyone else this, not a fucking soul, and there's no reason it should be rattling its way loose now, but. ] I hurt her.

I had to make it right. [ balling up his desperate fistfuls of pagan's jacket. ]

[vacabdication]

Ajay. I think - forgive me - I think if you knew the whole story, you'd understand that you might be overselling it a touch. Your mother had already been hurt in the worst way anyone could have hurt her. Whatever it is you did - your spot of trouble with the law, I presume - could never have compared.

[ Is it too much to admit that he knows about the shooting? Certainly too much to confess that he'd funded the lawyer. No matter. He keeps his arms latched around Ajay, determined now that he won't let go until Ajay moves away. ]

There was a lot in her life that could never be made right. But you. Oh, you were her guiding star. Her home.

[vaaris]

[ the surprise makes him stiffen, jolting enough so that he almost breaks the hold to look up at pagan -- but the other man's arms are steady around him, and fuck. maybe he is pathetic, is a hug all it takes to shake him up this badly? but it's been so long since anyone's touched him like this, wanting to comfort and asking nothing in return -- not the way sabal touches him, a warm squeeze of his shoulder or a firm grasp of his hand, and always his eyes are asking ajay please. but all pagan has to say is that ajay's already done enough, and it burns like poison being drawn from a wound. ]

Why are you -- [ he drags in another ragged inhale. ] You barely know me. I tried to kill you.

[vacabdication]

I don't know you. Not any more. But I did. I knew you, and I loved you. I understand now, of course, that you've been interpreting my attempts at showing my affection as some sort of mocking, but did you never pause to ask yourself why I would bother? Think, my boy. After you got off the bus, before you killed a single one of my men, I embraced you. Why would I have any reason to do that, even in mocking, if what I say wasn't true?

[vaaris]

... I don't know.

[ with a little shake of his head, almost helpless. it had made fucking sense until he came here, that's the thing. that everything pagan said to him, everything gesture of affection, was just part of some fucked up game -- of course pagan would want him dead, the son of mohan ghale, the hope of the golden path. and everything else was to... what, lower his guard? fuck with his head?

he can't make the pieces of the jigsaw fit back together anymore, and it makes him feel stretched thin and worn out to even try. ]

Sabal -- [ he hesitates there, shakes his head again. ] The Golden Path made it seem like they were saving me from you.

[vacabdication]

Sabal, [ and he says it the way he always says it, overemphasized, dripping with mockery ] is a manipulative, sneaky little ratfucker, but I daresay he believes he was saving you. Or saving a valuable asset, at least. To him you are the son of Mohan Ghale, the only man since my own father who gave me enough of a reason to bother to hate someone.

[ and finally, finally Pagan releases that hug - though he doesn't quite release Ajay. He just steps back, still gripping Ajay by his upper arms, so that he can look Ajay in the eye - and when he does, a smile forms on his face, warm and genuine. ]

I don't suppose I'm any better. I thought I was bringing you home, and never paused to ask you if you wanted to be brought.

What do you want, Ajay? Because - pertinent reminder - I am King. There's little that isn't within my power, here.

[vaaris]

[ okay, so pagan hating sabal isn't exactly a suprise. and neither is him hating mohan, even though the amount of venom that drips from his voice is enough to send ajay's footing slip-sliding underneath him again. especially when pagan seems to hold the polar opposite of hard feelings towards ajay -- which suggests that maybe attempted murder isn't a deal breaker on the guy's priority list.

but then pagan pulls back from the hug, and... well, this is really the part where ajay should let go of him, but his fingers aren't cooperating.

of course, the question makes him look up to meet pagan's eyes -- and when it comes to what he wants? what he really fucking wants? it spills out of him like a confession, heavy around all its edges with guilt. ]

I don't want to keep killing people. [ and then his expression shifts with a flicker of something like pain. ] ... I don't want people to keep dying because I'm not doing anything.

[vacabdication]

Well. As you heard, I've made it very clear that my men are to cease and desist in any of their attempts on your life. I can't make any promises about those who are loyal to Yuma - in fact, the one promise I can make in that regard is that they will definitely ignore my order - but outside of her territory, that should make "no killing" an achievable goal.

[ He squeezes Ajay's arms, just a little, barely resists the urge to give him a tiny shake. ]

What else?

[vaaris]

[ it's... a lot of wrap his head around. the idea that he doesn't have to do it anymore, that he could just stop. almost impossible to believe, but his shoulders are already slumping with relief at the idea of it.

but the question makes his eyes snap back to pagan's face, brows knitting. ]

I -- I don't --

[ what else is there? get his mom to lakshmana, of course, but hadn't pagan already told him that there's time enough for that? ]

... I want a hot shower. [ it's the only thing he can think of, and it stumbles out of him almost before he can help it. ] I want to sleep. I want -- [ softly, now, as if this is something he's likely to be denied. ] ... I want to talk to you more.

[vacabdication]

[ Such tiny little wants. Pagan was halfway expecting Ajay to ask to be sent back to the States, and he'd have done it - of course he would, in a private plane with staff to cater to Ajay's every whim - but oh, the selfish part of him (all, that's all of him) rejoices to hear the last thing especially, and he drops one of his hands to his side even as he shifts the other to Ajay's shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. ]

There's been a room made up for you here since before you arrived. The ensuite has both a shower and - if you're feeling like a little indulgence - a tub.

And there is nothing I would like more than for us to spend more time together. To talk.

[vaaris]

[ the relief is a physical thing; there's something about finding out that he already has a place here that feels so good it aches. finally, he can let his fingers uncurl from pagan's jacket even as he leans into that little squeeze at his shoulder like he's starving for it. ]

... you really meant it. Everything you've said.