Part three for meeeeeee 💖🥳💖🥳💖🥳💖

Now that there's a plan to help Lugad, we've gotta absolutely ruin it so Angus can be his hero and I can have Angus and Rohan fighting again. 👀💖

It doesn't work. They learn that quickly enough.

Deirdre, for all her claims to have 'a woman's touch,' only managed to get as far with that as she did with Pyre: nowhere. Lugad was fond of her, that was true, but the gentler she was, the more it seemed to remind him that he wasn't. This thing about being dangerous, after having been found terrorizing villages, hadn't left his head. He wasn't the fastest fox in the hen house, but when he caught onto what was happening, he sank his teeth into it like a hound. The princess wasn't about to get aggressive with him to dissuade those thoughts, so she settled for being a kind soul who could welcome Lugad as he was. It didn't help make him more human, but it didn't push back towards being a demon.

Ivar and Garrett, on the other hand...

Angus isn't sure why they thought addressing Lugad as a fellow prince would work. They never talked like that to Rohan, and Rohan hadn't been in a tower all his life, eating magic demon food from a sorcerer. (He'd been in a castle for most of his life, eating herbs their druid had hidden and throwing up for the rest of the evening.) Lugad didn't want to 'ponder' and 'philosophize,' or discuss the finer points of manners and silky shirts - whatever princes talked about, Lugad wasn't interested. And that brought out a new frustration as Lugad tried to make himself interested, but was so aggravated and bored that he started to yell and throw a table to cause a distraction. Angus had seen it once. Yes, he'd panicked like the others, but he'd also turned back to see what Lugad was planning next, just to watch him tip-toe out in the other direction.

Lugad had a tricky side. So even the slowest fox was still a fox.

Garrett, of course, was happy to switch to 'royal' combat instead. The challenges lasted right up to when Garrett first mentioned 'invalid' attacks, at which point Lugad's head tipped so far back to scream in exhaustion that Garrett felt compelled to say, "Screaming doesn't earn points either."

Ivar attempted to compromise by playing war games. Rather than fighting directly, they'd command small figures that served as their armies. Lugad liked that, until Ivar mentioned 'invalid' moves. Then the pieces were smashed and Lugad said he'd won.

"When you think about it," Angus had said, "that is what you do when I beat you, your royalness."

Ivar, paralyzed by the irony, did not smash him for that.

Cathbad recommended stories. Great and ancient tales of heroes and mystical beings. It started off well. More and more, however, Lugad would say he imagined himself as the hulking, hated monsters that these heroes were sent to fight. Cathbad's attempts to change the heroes' descriptions and be something resembling Lugad turned out to highlight those obvious differences further.

"Maybe you should use a real monster," Angus suggested. "Like an evil druid that set an innocent, charming rogue's boots on fire once."

"Perhaps so," Cathbad agreed. "First, I shall see if it's a tale worth telling once again."

Angus was a lot faster getting to water this time.

And why is Angus around anyway, when his job was keeping Rohan busy during this?

Rohan. He was his own answer. Pacing, fretting, fussing, worrying that if Lugad lost control again, the others would be helpless to fight him off unless Draganta was there as well. He wasn't itching for a fight, obviously. If anything, Lugad losing control would break a part of Rohan's heart. But Rohan was nothing if not a walking ball of stress, and this was the latest take on a classic: what if someone needs me and I'm not there?

So he sends Angus.

Well, Angus volunteers. The job was to go find the others, check that they were alive, then report back with good news. That way, Rohan still technically left everyone else alone, and Angus got a break from the endless pacing and pacing and pacing.

What Angus actually does is take his time and linger around the place, free from doing any other work (because he's busy with official Draganta business uwu) and giving his valuable hindsight to everyone else. He reports back to Rohan with whatever his friend needs to hear, he's as outwardly aloof and disinterested in this as he's ever been, but in the secretly, he's noticing the patterns and walls that the others are running into.

He starts to think.

Rohan's patience will only last until his nerves finally eat him alive, and having him charge back in like that will be the last blow to any gate holding in Lugad's stress. So when Angus decides to make his move to do what he always does - fix everything - he comes in with a calculated scheme.

And he steals Lugad.

Alright - 'steal' is a strong word. More like Angus catches Lugad taking room-draining panic breaths, midway through a very runs-in-the-family Fear of Failure, just on the verge of exploding after breaking something far too delicate for him to have been handling yet, and hiding in a hall during his Garrett-sanctioned, ten-minute break - and then Angus says, "Wanna go somewhere?"

Lugad does, so they leave. But Lugad takes forever to get around, which leaves Angus more than enough time to catch Garrett's eye right as he walks in to collect Lugad himself. One snappy "get out of here, Garrett >:U" handwave, shooing the prince away from them, and Angus is free to leave with the half-demon and without the others having a fit over how Lugad got loose.

It's laughable how easily Garrett was shooed away. If that's all it took, how hard must Lugad have been trying to cooperate that he didn't kick the guy back to Rheged ages ago? Angus wants to count Lugad's commitment and tenacity as being something else that runs in the family (or maybe just from being Irish). He nearly does, but then his mind goes back to whenever Rohan gets this way. Because Rohan never enjoys it. He'd say his head gets clouded with everything feeling like a cruel dream, and the overwhelming terror of letting everyone's expectations fall apart. With in mind, Angus doesn't rib Lugad over how easily he could've thrown Garrett over the castle's walls; it's suddenly all too clear that Lugad was fully aware, and desperately trying not to be the monster that only solved its problem in one way.

So Angus walks Lugad around instead.

Not anywhere in particular. Away from people, mostly. Into the forest, over hills, up to caves, then back again. He keeps remembering how much he hates walking, but Lugad always waits for him to have a break without any complaint, and doesn't seem to mind matching Angus' lazy pace.

It isn't a quiet walk, exactly. It starts as one, but Angus can't help adding some sound to it. He starts by trying to describe where they are - little facts like it's a tour, nothing Lugad has to give an answer to - before that devolves into idly rattling off stories and gossip about those places. Then he simply starts to comment on whether he likes a place or not, then to meals he'd want to have somewhere, and then meals he'd like to have in general. Just talking. And roaming around. He'd like to think Lugad was burning off some energy, but if all it did was clear Lugad's head of whatever those royals were 'teaching' him, that was fine.

The next day, Lugad seems to have more patience for his 'lessons'. The day after, he pounds on a table and cracks the thing in two. So Angus takes him walking again and talks. From then on, he makes sure Lugad sticks to a schedule: one day 'learning' to be human, one day following Angus around. It goes like that for a week or so, enough for Angus to immediately run out of new places to take to Lugad to or comments to make about it.

There's no discussion about it; Angus simply decides to switch from touring around Kells to going on his patrols and doing other quasi-knightly things as if he'd been alone, but with a giant, yellow, silent, half-demon shadow right behind. It's another week like that, and Lugad is so good at wordlessly trailing him that Angus starts to treat him as extra pockets (well, an extra pair of hands at least, what with his actual lack of pockets in his armour), or a boost to get up to trees or windows, or to clear a path.

Lugad doesn't seem to mind being used as a handy accessory, and - in fact - seems quite pleased when Angus is pleased that any obstacle was easier to tackle with Lugad's help. And 'obstacle' is being generous. They were walking through the forest and a log was in the way, and Angus gave it a kick before asking if Lugad would move the thing rather than climbing over. The ten seconds it saved was gobbled by the minute it took for Lugad to pick it up and toss it to the side, and the only reward Angus gave was, "Thanks :)," but Lugad grunted a cheery, "You're welcome," so this arrangement was working well.

Actually, it was getting to a point where Angus felt rude not asking Lugad to move or lift things. As Lugad got accustomed to their routine, he started preemptively going up to walls as if expecting Angus to ask him for a boost. When Angus waved him along instead, there'd be a sad droop in Lugad's shoulders that could only be cured by asking Lugad to do something else. And it had to be something only Lugad could do with his superhuman strength. And it had to be something Angus would thank him for, or else that droop wouldn't leave - and since Angus didn't want to risk Lugad getting annoyed and then angry, that fast "Thanks :)" became an even quicker bump of Angus' elbow to keep up with their newly endless ritual. Lugad didn't even say, "You're welcome" anymore, because just like Angus' elbow bump, the proud puff of Lugad's chest was his faster, more familiar way to express it instead.

If Angus had to guess, this was what had truly been adding to Lugad's patience: the little acknowledgments of appreciation for doing well. He didn't share that theory with anyone, but he did notice the others saying they'd noticed Lugad reacting more to favourably to what they said when they commented on any successful efforts.

It was also why it drove Angus so crazy whenever Rohan - meaning well, in his 'Rohan' sort of way - would point out that Lugad was still half-demon, and therefore still a threat they had to cure. Angus wasn't sure how often Rohan was going around and saying that, but it was enough that on some of their walks, Angus had to coax Lugad into taking pride from the little favours he, a half-demon, could do. And over the weeks, Angus could tell when Rohan had said it again, because the droop would be back in Lugad's shoulders and take longer and longer to be coaxed out.

Eventually, there came a walk where asking Lugad for anything only seemed to make him feel worse. Angus kept quiet then instead (about moving stuff; obviously he kept prattling on to break the silence). They were out for hours that day. While Lugad's mood never truly recovered by the time were they were back, he did stop them just outside the castle gate. Like he'd been rehearsing it in his head, Lugad very gingerly placed his elbow against Angus' arm, and then took it away. And then waited, expectantly staring to find some reaction.

Angus made Lugad stand waiting for longer than he'd like to admit, but it happened eventually: that was Angus' own elbow bump of thanks. Mixed in, he noted, with a lot of Deirdre's lessons on being gentle, so he hadn't gotten accidentally knocked to the other side of a field from it.

He must've smiled or something, because before Angus uttered a word, Lugad had already puffed up his chest slightly, seemingly congratulating himself on a good job. Well-earned, Angus would admit. As was the scolding Angus gave Rohan that evening.

The hard thing about routines was realizing when he'd fallen into one, but shortly after Angus spelled out the importance of Rohan keeping his 'worries' away from Lugad, Rohan invited himself along to interrupt this one. It was supposed to be the same as any other wandering walk Angus and Lugad took, but having Rohan there immediately threw their quiet dynamic off a cliff.

Rohan didn't like Angus ordering Lugad around to do stuff.

Rohan didn't like Lugad pre-emptively moving to do stuff for Angus.

Rohan didn't like Lugad celebrating his demon strength, when they'd been working so hard to keep Lugad away from banishment over that.

Angus, for his part, knew what Rohan meant. This was his brother, who'd ravaged so much of Ireland with the same ease as the boulder he'd tossed, just because Angus couldn't be bothered with walking around it. And this was his best friend, who was kind enough to guard that brother, even though he'd been just as afraid of that demon strength as anyone else, but who also had a habit of exploiting shortcuts. Whatever benefit Angus and Lugad tried to explain it led to - the appreciation, the patience, the break, the improvements, the sudden gentleness - would get smashed against those walls of Rohan's concern.

What Angus hadn't expected was for Lugad to realize the same thing. And maybe that was another surprise Rohan didn't like, because it was certainly one for Angus as he noticed it now: he and Lugad?

They'd gotten close.

Closer than...

Well.

Closer than Lugad and Rohan.

The brothers. The family Rohan had always wanted. The person Rohan was actively trying to protect from being exiled, and endlessly worrying about for months.

In the single look that Angus and Lugad exchanged, where they agreed that this walk with Rohan would have to drop their game of Lugad doing Big Strong favours (naturally plotting to go right back to it once they were out of Rohan's sight), Angus discovered he even could exchange that look and have it be understood. And returned! Perhaps his absent rambling had helped them out with that after all.

But with that realization came a second look that Angus exchanged with Rohan. And there, the full weight of their years of friendship stripped the meaning absolutely bare: Rohan was heartbroken. Angus didn't even like Lugad, yet here he was, plotting with Lugad through a simple glance? And Rohan couldn't? Worse than that, Rohan could see Angus was plotting with Lugad around him, as if further splitting the gap between them. There was a clear divide, with Angus and Lugad on one side of it, and Rohan - eyes full of despair as it hammered home - on the other.

Following that wordless conversation, Rohan lowered his eyes from Angus' and excused himself from their walk.

He could sense Lugad puffing up with pride, like this was a good thing. Then he could sense the confusion as Lugad didn't get the reaction he was waiting for. Angus didn't have a reaction until Lugad gently pressed his arm against Angus' - not his elbow, as it'd be to say thanks, but Lugad's wrist, as if to ask how to help, like he was indirectly offering Angus his arm.

Angus felt himself moving away from that, as if by instinct. It was as though some part of him interpreted that as more betrayal of his friendship with Rohan. He didn't address it, and part of him was relieved to see Lugad's shoulders hadn't drooped, but he did start their walk again and didn't ask for Lugad to move or throw anything.

And he kept his eyes low, watching only the ground moving under him. Apparently, Lugad could understand what was in his look, so Angus kept it out of the picture on purpose.

Funnily enough, no look was also somehow a look. And from how Lugad carefully trailed behind him, almost shy and apologetic, the demon obviously understood enough of that one, too.

More posting! More posting!

Things start getting ridiculous.

Angus decides to skip their usual day for a walk. It isn't fair to Rohan, after all, and really, it's been a while since he's just been on his own. He tells Lugad, whose shoulders immediately droop, destroying the claim that that was fine with him, and then heads out alone.

When he comes back, Lugad is waiting to hear how his walk went.

The next time they do walk, Angus isn't as chatty. He also can't think of much to ask to Lugad to do. His mind's drawn a guilty blank, because even the usual requests of moving a tree log or a boulder (it's almost always the same boulder, like their little tradition, even though he shouldn't have traditions with Lugad) die in his throat as he remembers how hurt Rohan was. Rohan, who hasn't even brought it up again, and whose silence absolutely destroyed the posturing that this was fine with him. Rohan was trying to be respectful of Angus' and Lugad's friendship (friendship?!), supporting it as best he could without revealing the dagger it drove into his heart. It was so pathetically obvious that the fact Rohan was even attempting to try made Angus feel like the utter scum of the earth rather than any Mystic Knight of it. This wos supposed to be Rohan's time to reconnect with his long-lost half-brother, yet there was Angus, forever and always a thief.

Lugad moved the boulder for him without being asked. Angus muttered a "Thanks" out of habit, barely realizing it was the wrong habit.

The others comment on how hard Lugad's been concentrating on their lessons. Deirdre's been able to hand him delicate pottery, and he hardly crushes any of it. He and Garrett train together, and Garrett's arms aren't numb at the end. Ivar uses a big word, and Lugad uses it again later. Even when he makes mistakes, his usual frustration isn't there. The anger, the table-smashing, the panic breaths... Lugad's too focused to panic. He's studying to draw out his human side like the fate of all Kells depends on it.

Angus mumbles, "Good work." Lugad panics and storms away.

Lugad drags Rohan back out for one of their walks. It's sort of a surprise for Angus, who immediately ashamed to have Rohan there. It's another betrayal on Angus' part. Rohan had trusted him to keep Lugad out of trouble; he should've at least been able to do that, instead of letting Lugad sneak away to pull Rohan into this. But Angus goes on the walk. Lugad trails behind him, but at a greater distance. Less shy, more nervous that he might interrupt anything Rohan and Angus say to each other. But every time it finally happens, with the two of them quietly (and sombrely) conversing ahead, Lugad creeps in closer until he's looming over Angus again. Conversation interrupted.

Angus and Rohan agree to pick up on it later on. In private. Then Rohan takes his leave, and Angus and Lugad return to their walk.

Angus' eyes never leave the ground.

It can't go on forever. The others have all noticed the stress. It's the very kind they fear will lead to Lugad succumbing to his demon side. The trouble is, the cure to that is a medicine neither Rohan nor Angus want to take: just let Angus spend time with Lugad again.

Lugad likes him! It's such open knowledge that it's almost startling when Deirdre blurts it out at the meeting, as no one had actually spoken the words before. There's an odd... weight to it, one that they try to ignore, whereby they silently assure each other that this is just a good friendship. Things are tangled enough as it is without exploring it any further.

But they agree: Lugad likes Angus, and regardless of whether it's 'real' friendship or only Angus being nice for Rohan's sake, the fact is that Rohan doesn't like it anymore, so Angus has withdrawn.

Ivar says it's the same problem over and over again. Whenever Rohan is upset, Angus falls over himself to fix it. Surely by now they'd've found a way to work around this certainty. A pause and a silence from those at the table serves as its own answer.

King Conchobar can't keep waiting for the three of them to work it out. Lugad has shown great promise in connecting to his human side (again, they don't explore it further, now for an unspoken respect of privacy), but for as long as he has a demon side at all, he remains a threat to kingdom. And unfortunately for them, even before this challenge appeared, Angus' time with Lugad didn't 'break' this curse. At best, it gave Lugad encouragement to keep that side of him contained, but they'll still need an answer to how he can properly control it.

Cathbad says there are certain rituals that may aid with this. They've gone through many up until now; most haven't had an effect. In the end, the power to control Lugad's demon half - whether that be by releasing it somehow, or transforming it - lies within Lugad himself. It's the reason Nemain wasn't able to extinguish Lugad's human half; he didn't have the will to extinguish it, and it couldn't be taken away by force, merely repressed. So Cathbad disagrees, saying that encouragement is the key to Lugad gaining his control. As it stands, it's been Angus serving as the key to that key.

Then they're back to where they started, with Rohan and Angus at the centre again. Conchobar is less than pleased. Summoned monsters, attacks on the castle, traitors among their ranks - those are all threats they've dealt with in the past and thoroughly dispatched. "But those two," the king says, perfectly able to end his sentence there and be understood, "guard their friendship so fiercely that I doubt any of us could intervene. Not from the outside, at least. They'd need to work it out between themselves."

Garrett explains a custom from his home that's used to force nobles to compromise. As they can't afford to turn on each other, such practices are needed to keep these family on amicable terms. There, a representative from each family is put into a room.

... No, that's it. Garrett finished talking. 'Put them in a room together' is the whole thing. Deirdre is highly unimpressed with this, asking how that's supposed to help them when the problem's not that Rohan and Angus aren't talking. They are talking, and whatever they've said is why Angus has been avoiding Lugad.

"No. This might work," Conchobar says. "Garrett only said a representative from each family." (100% Garrett does a little 😏 at Deirdre jfc) "He didn't say which representative."

Garrett agrees that it doesn't matter, so long as that person can speak on behalf of their house.

"That doesn't leave us many options," Ivar warns. "You said it yourself, your majesty: Rohan and Angus are fiercely protective of their friendship. The only ones who can speak on behalf of it are Rohan and Angus themselves."

"Then we'll have that as one house," Conchobar decides. "The other will be set around Rohan and Lugad as brothers. In their case, we have Rohan again, Lugad himself..." He pauses. "... and Maeve."

The stunned reactions take several moments to break. After it has, however, the others are quick to all speak at once.

The king explains that Maeve, despite being their enemy and in exile, and despite having abandoned Rohan and locking Lugad away in tower, and despite never having told Rohan and Lugad about each other, and despite - Deirdre interrupts, prompting her father to get on with it.

"Yes. Well. What I'm trying to say," Conchobar resumes, "is that Maeve has always had some influence over Rohan and Lugad's familial status. Was it direct? No. Was it agreed-upon? No. Was it -" He sees Deirdre. "... But it was present, and a deciding factor. Since Rohan is between both houses, he can't be trusted to negotiate fairly on either one's behalf. If Lugad could speak for himself and Rohan, we wouldn't be at this impasse. As such, the only representatives with any possible sway is Angus, on behalf of his friendship with Rohan, and Maeve, on behalf of how that friendship intersects with her - well... children."

"Maeve isn't very likely to cooperate," Ivar warns again. "With her having been exiled, she may not be concerned with what fate befalls Kells or Temra."

"Maeve will care," Cathbad assures them. "Even in exile, she will still have ambitions to one day rule over all of Ireland."

"And she can't rule over ashes," Garrett says. "Our concern should be with Angus. Can he withstand such a conversation with Maeve?"

"Angus has been captured by her and escaped many times already. He's faced off against Fin Varra and Pyre repeatedly too - and even my father," Deirdre replies. "When it comes to Rohan, Angus seems able to withstand anything. Our true concern is how to get him and Maeve in one place. We know where she is - Angus was the one to bring her there, and we could send an armed escort to bring her back to a guarded chamber. But how do we convince Angus to stay long enough to talk with her?"

There's a small and almost choking fragment of a cough. Suspiciously, it seemed to begin as some sort of laughter before it changed.

"That," Cathbad says, "is easily resolved, dear princess."