Kaz pulled his hand back as Will show upright, watching the Martyr carefully, through eyes red as blood. "William." he said softly. "Would you like to speak to an apothecarist about something to help you sleep?" he knew what nightmares were like. Knew how much torment and pain that each new one inflicted. He…wanted to spare Will of some of that, if Will would accept the help from someone else. He knew that WIll would not accept any medication that Kazimir gave to him, even if Kaz took some himself.
"An apothecary?" He repeats quietly, allowing his brain to catch up to reality. "No." He shakes his head softly. "No, no, I don't need anything from one." The only person he would ever trust with helping him sleep was his mother, but she's completely out of the picture, leaving Will to protect himself. He exhales slowly, his body relaxing back onto the bed. "How was… being a king?" He closes his eyes yet strays far away from falling asleep.
Kaz sat down on the edge of the bed, eyes narrowing for a moment as he considered Will's question. "It was the same as it always is." he responded, shaking his head a little bit. "What did you do while I was gone?" sure, he could just ask Ivan but he would prefer to have the news from William, rather than the servant.
"Nothing much," Will supplies, noting the dip in the bed next to him. "I read, mostly." Biographies, to be exact. He cracks open an eye to stare at the Snake. "Is it true that you were imprisoned? Your biography didn't give much detail."
Kaz's gaze flickered at the question, crimson eyes moving to Will to stare at him for a long, silent moment. "I was." He replied, keeping it simple. He didn't add any additional information, didn't give Will any further details on why or how or what happened. Only answered the question in two short words, careful to keep his voice calm and steady.
"It's not fun," Will replies, almost kindred if it weren't for the slight bite in his tone. He sighs, moving his eyes to the intricate ceiling, then to the wall and the floor and to the window with the setting sun. He prays he'll at least be able to sleep tonight. Carefully, Will sits up in the bed, his tousled hair falling into his face. The Martyr steadies the Snake with a firm look, unsure of what he really wants from him.
"Do you remember…" Will starts before looking away, back to tracing the wardrobe and vanity. "The life where we met on the battlefield?" His throat feels thick as he swallows. "We only had a moment of eye contact before you drove a sword through my chest."
Kaz inhaled softly, eyes moving about thoughtfully. "I remember." he finally said, voice quiet. "I attacked your country. You didn't stand a chance. You fought anyway." his eyes slid over to watch Will, half-open. "We…neither of us knew until that moment, and then it was too late for it to end any other way." he hadn't known he was the Snake until he made eye contact with Will, that day on that battlefield. And he had spent the rest of that lifetime mourning a man he had never even known.
Will nods, already knowing what the story entailed from the bits and pieces he managed to fit together. "I was just making sure," He says quietly. "It's hard to tell the difference between memories and nightmares." Hell, every single dream he's received is likely both. "There was also a time…" Flashes from his visions the night prior echo though his mind. The balcony. The knife. Dying before he hit the ground. "I can't tell the lives apart, nor when they happened but last night– last night I had dream." He looks over to Kazimir. "My name was Micah and it was in the midst of a summer night on a balcony." Stilling his nerves, Will fully turns his body to face Kaz's. "I tried to jump but I was dead before I hit the ground." His hand drifts to the grooves between his ribs, the site of the morning's vestigial pain. "Tell me, was that life a recent one?"
He closed his eyes, searching his own memories. "Micah…you were Micah not in the last life, but the one before." he replied, opening his eyes again after a moment. "It was recent." he didn't know what else to say, didn't know how else to answer Will's question. What could he say, really, beyond that? He hesitated for a long moment, then spoke again. "I had already stabbed you before you jumped. Death claimed you." and Will had stabbed him, too. Kaz had died only minutes after Will, in that life, but all that mattered was that it was after. It didn't matter that Will had stabbed him and he had died, only that Will had died first. As long as Will died first, then it didn't matter if Kaz died too. This was what had lead to some of Will's most vicious, painful deaths; Kaz's need to make sure that the Martyr died first, so that their rebirth cycle could not be broken.
Will nods, accepting the information without doubt for why would the Snake have reason to lie about these. They're all the same story that meet the same end, countless and countless times again. "I don't remember stabbing you." But then again, Will hardly recalls anything. His word is good as nothing. Briefly, Will sizes the Snake up. Without a doubt, Kazimir had five - if not more - inches on him and at least twice as broad. If he has any hope for this life, it's going to have to be stealthy. There's no way Will could overpower the Snake now, in this life the fates cursed him with a scrawny build and weak constitution. "But it was painful, I know that much." His fingers grip his shirt. "I woke up this morning…" He says slowly as the events from hours before return. "My nightmare gave me the pain of my death of a past life." Will's fern green eyes lock with the Snake's crimson. "You wouldn't happen to know if that's a recurring thing I deal with in every rebirth?"
Kaz's brows drew together faintly as he thought about the question, searching his long memories. "I…do not know." he said softly. "It might be, but…" he shrugged a shoulder. "I could not say for sure. It is something I believe you deal with more when you only recently remember. It is a side effect of all the memories rushing back." he ran his hands through his hair.
Will acknowledges the information with a small nod. "So it'll wear off… Eventually." Hopefully. He shrugs and shakes his head. He breathes deeply, feeling his ribcage expand and diaphragm pull at the closing wounds bandaged beneath his borrowed shirt. Casting one last glance at the Snake, Will falls back into the bed, his head flopping against one of the silk pillows. Throwing a hand over his eyes, he peeks through his fingers at Kazimir, wondering if the king had any questions for him.
"Likely, yes." Kaz replied, watching Will quietly. "At least, nightmares from memories resurfacing. That…does not mean they will be completely gone." he could not remember the last lifetime where his dreams had been free of terrors. Could not remember any pleasant dreams, only horrors and terrors.
"Would be nice if these dreams stop soon," he murmurs, half-tempted to grab an adjacent pillow to smush over his face. "Do you get the dreams?" Or nightmares, as he probably should've phrased. "Or is it confined to the tragic, doomed and pathetic little Martyr?" The bitterness creeps into his tone as he once again, but he really doesn't intend to direct it towards the Snake.
The Snake was silent for a long moment, watching Will for a moment as he considered how to answer this question. "I…do get them." he confirmed after a moment, the words quiet and careful and slow, not giving away any more than he wanted them to.
Will glances at the Snake, momentarily allowing his eyes to sweep down the king's body. "Am I dying in them?" He inquires quietly. His gaze travels to Kazimir's blood eyes as he asks the question. The thought prods at his mind… What could warrant nightmare material for the fate of death and destruction? Is Kazimir reliving his own deaths? Witnessing his past incarnates slaughter Will in thousands of different ways? Waking up with the aching heart of mourning?
"Sometimes." Kaz replied softly. Sometimes the dreams were just echoing losses, lifetimes of mourning for a man he killed every time, and he would awaken with pangs in his heart as he realized he would do it again this time. That this cycle would never end. He could never let it end. Sometimes the dreams were memories from his past lifetimes, of all tha pain he had gone through. The torture, the lifetimes were he had succumbed to madness. It was a common end for him. He knew too well the feeling of losing his mind, knew what it was like to slowly go insane.
"Alright." Will's voice is quiet, noticeably so. The two of them had steadily grown quiet together… Speaking of their past lives and deaths and growing to accept the current and impending ones. "It's late," He murmurs, grasping one of the silk pillows behind him.He remains in his given clothes from that morning, his mind too muddled to even process changing out of them. As he fluffs the pillow absent-mindedly, a yawn escapes his lips. It should be a crime to have a bed this comfortable.
Kaz nodded slightly, standing. "Do you want any pajamas?" he questioned, stepping over to the closet and beginning to unbutton his shirt, not really thinking about whether or not WIll was watching. He didn't really care. They had seen each other in all states of dress, in so many forms, throughout their lives. What did it matter if Will saw him again now?
"If you have some," Will says even though he's fully aware that Kazimir has a spare. Until his own clothes are finished by the tailor, he's stuck borrowing the man's clothes. He glances over to Kazimir, momentarily watching him remove his shirt before looking out the window, averting his eyes more out of respect then bashfullness. "Thank you."
Kaz nodded, dropping his shirt haphazardly on the floor. Without it, scars were visible on his body, littering his skin. Some were the random marks of old fights, but others…others were more ordered, purposefully inflicted by someone else with the express purpose of causing pain. He stepped into the closet, pulling out a pair of pajamas for himself and beginning to change into them.
The soft noise of the shirt brings Will's eyes over towards the Snake once more. He stops, heart twinging ever so slightly at the sight of the scars. He turns his head away again. The Snake is a vicious warmonger who has slaughtered thousands. He's earned those scars; Will knows he doesn't need the pity.
(umm… Sorry to pop in but Fraust, Pyro, and myself were wondering if you were interested in rejoining us in the “Victorian Bookstore” rp and you haven't been responding)
(Wait Pyro's back?? tell them hi and to respond to our RPs or PM me if they're still interested!)
Kaz changed into his pajamas and came back out. His pajamas consisted of a loose pair of grey silk bottoms that went to his ankles, and a sleeveless white shirt of the same silky material. In his hands he held some other pajamas, and set them on the bed for Will to choose from. There were cotton, linens, and some silk ones. "Choose some." with no sleeeves, the black marks that curled up his arms were easily visible, along with some scars on his upper arms and shoulders.
(I think so… But I’ll pass on the message. 😉)
