Laurent + Valentin // The Usual

[maisonfaux]

Who: Laurent & Valentin
When: During the Fest.
Where: Vaux estate
Rating & Warnings: G.

Laurent was going to kill him. He had no idea where Valentin had disappeared to the night before, or when the other man would be back, mind, but he was going to kill him all the same. Knowing his cousin, he was doing something so spectacularly ridiculous as to draw shame to them all, and he almost didn't even want to think about it.

And yet from the moment he had returned home the night before, he couldn't stop such thoughts from entering his head. This was probably why, after a brief nap earlier, he had returned to glare at the door of the Vaux estate, arms folded across his chest while he waited impatiently for the door to open. Who knew what his cousin was doing as long as he wasn't in the estate?

Valentin had to come home sometime, and, when he did, Laurent would be sure to let him know just how furious he was with him.

What Laurent didn't know, of course, was that he was watching the wrong door. Valentin had, in fact, returned some time ago. He had had time to bathe, dress, and was now carrying through the halls a plate of breakfast foods that he'd charmed away from a kitchen maid.

Without an apparent care in the world, Valentin sauntered into the main foyer where, just as one of the servants had told him, his cousin awaited his return. It was touching, really, how attached Laurent suddenly seemed to be to him. Smiling brightly, he walked up beside his cousin.

"Good morning, Laurent!"

The moment the words were out of Valentin's mouth, all the particularly foul, nasty language he had learned over the years immediately sprung to mind, put on a grumbling loop inside his head. Valentin had been here this whole time, hadn't he? If he hadn't been certain about it before, he certainly was now: he was going to kill his cousin. In fact, the other man would be lucky if he left the hallway intact.

With a growl and possibly the worst glare imaginable, Laurent turned, immediately reaching his hand out to smack his cousin upside the head. It served him right after the heart attacks the other man insisted on causing him on a daily basis.

Valentin only barely managed to dance out of his cousin's reach, avoiding the blow and in the process managing to drop his plate. It fell to the floor with a ringing smash!, sending sausage rolls and pieces of fruit skittering across the floor.

Now safely out of arm's reach, Valentin sighed dramatically, surveying the mess. "What kind of a greeting is that, cousin?" He kicked a strawberry and watched it skitter across the floor. "And I had so thoughtfully brought you breakfast, as well!"

Oh, Valentin not playing this game with him right now, not when they had this conversation every single time the other man managed to slip away from him. Laurent had been up half the night because of that man, and not even "thoughtfully" bringing him breakfast had any chance of correcting the problem. He could eat that later; in fact, if he sweet-talked someone on staff in the house, they'd give him something to eat regardless of the time of day, but that was besides the point. Not even a spoiled plate of breakfast would deter him from his rage at the moment. His cousin would simply have to deal.

"That, my dear cousin, is the sort of greeting you receive when you decide to scamper off to Cita only knows where in the middle of night and do something particularly ridiculous. What were you thinking?" He was the heir to the family name, for Cita's sake! He couldn't keep doing things like this!

"I was thinking that I would like to leave the house. Had you but asked, I might have told you where I was going, to spare your poor, sensitive nerves." Of course, he might not have bothered to tell Laurent anything, even if he had asked. Or at least, nothing truthful. But when it came down to it, his cousin had brought this upon himself. Laurent was the one who had suddenly decided that it was his responsibility to monitor Valentin's movements.

Valentin might have been annoyed, if his cousin was a better shadow. As it was, Laurent was rather easily escaped when the situation called for it, and the best sort of captive audience otherwise.

"You most certainly would not have told me anything and you know damn well you wouldn't have."

Honestly, what did he have to do to get through to his cousin? He wasn't a child any more! He couldn't just go out and do whatever he wanted; he was the heir to a noble family and the sooner he got that into his head, the better. One certainly didn't see their prince running off and making an idiot of himself, but, then again, the royal family had the Duchess to keep them in line. If they listened to anybody, they would listen to her.

"You can't keep doing this, Valentin." It was the same lecture he had given the younger man time and time again. He was almost certain his cousin knew it by heart by now, or was tired of hearing it. To be honest, Laurent was tired of saying it, but Valentin had yet to learn why it was so important to try to behave himself by now. "You're the heir to the Vaux name. You need to show some degree of responsibility."

'You're the heir to the Vaux name. You need to show some degree of responsibility.'

How many times had Laurent parroted that tired old line since he'd started following Valentin around? He had no idea, truly, but it was enough that he knew exactly when it was coming, and found himself mouthing the words in synch with his cousin, all the while rolling his eyes.

But he smiled, despite the fact that he was dreadfully tired of the same lecture from a man who seemed no more inclined to responsibility than Valentin himself. Oh, it was true, he was serious and dour, but Laurent was hardly leading by example. He had, it seemed, put all his own ambitions on hold for the purpose of following Valentin around and nagging like an old maid. Laurent wasn't even married, and that hardly took any work at all.

Valentin smiled, because he knew that was the sort of thing that would frustrate his cousin further. "You're far too optimistic. You and I both know that the last thing my father wants is for me to inherit." He shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "I might as well make the most of it, before he disowns me in favour of some newborn brat."

He was a little surprised Valentin rarely threw Laurent's own lack of responsibility back at him, even though it would be the perfect way to shut him up. Even so, it wasn't as though it mattered. Laurent may have been older by a couple of years, but he wasn't the family heir. He didn't want to be. If he could spend the rest of his life with his books and collecting the old swords he had heard about, he would be able to die happy. He had responsibilities, certainly, but all of that came dead last when he had seen what his cousin had become. His parents understood that.

Besides, what did he care about any of that anyway? He wasn't under any obligation to get married any time soon, and all the women his parents had introduced him to didn't seem to have a brain in their head. They suited his idiot cousin better than him.

"Until such time as his new wife produces a son, you're still the heir," he pointed out. However, considering his uncle's track record, he highly doubted the man would be producing much of anything with her before one of them keeled over and died. "And if he were to keel over and die right now, you would be the head of the house. At least pretend to treat that like it was important."

Not that he ever did.

Valentin laughed. "If my father were to die this very day, Cita forbid such a tragedy, I would manage, cousin. Your lack of faith in my abilities is rather insulting." Granted, his cousin who so obviously wanted the favour of the head of the house would probably end up taking on most of the work, sooner or later. It was a good reason to keep him around. If Laurent's overwhelming sense of responsibility in regard to the House of Vaux carried on as it had this far, he would certainly be useful.

"Until then, this is my father's House more than it is mine. I'm not inclined to worry."

If he knew what Valentin had been thinking, it would have earned him another surprise smack. Laurent most certainly did not want the job, thank you very much, and he prayed almost daily that Cita guide his uncle into simply passing him over. He could barely handle Valentin; how was he supposed to run an entire family?

With a groan, Laurent moved past his cousin towards the kitchen. Clearly they weren't going to get anywhere at all with this current line of conversation, and, whether he liked it or not, he needed something to drink, at least. Dealing with Valentin always gave him a headache. "Cita love you, Valentin; no one else will."

Valentin gestured a passing servant towards the mess in the foyer, as he followed his cousin to the kitchens. "Unkind, as ever, Laurent." Not that he appeared to be terribly hurt by the other man's words. Valentin was many things but he was certain he was far from 'lovable.' "Is this the respect you show your future Head of House?"

"I'll show you respect when you start treating it like it means something." It was useless, he supposed; sooner or later, it would sink in and he would wonder why he had ever bothered attempting to get his cousin to behave himself, but, for now, it seemed Cita seemed to like continuously subjecting him to this torment.

"But you'll never truly respect me, Laurent. What good does feigned respect do me, except perhaps a false sense of accomplishment?"

It was useless.

Valentin just hadn't yet gotten to putting together a pool revolving around how long it would take for Laurent to give up on this whole venture.

So they were going down this road again, were they? It seemed like an endless cycle, didn't it? A continuous round of sniping at each other that only ever seemed to bring them right back to where they started.

"How can I respect someone who doesn't respect anybody else?" he demanded. In fact, the only person Valentin ever seemed to treat decently had been his first stepmother, and, even then, that had ended once she had died. If only she had lived longer... the woman might have actually been able to get through to Valentin where he couldn't.

That did seem to be the way of it. It was a wonder, really, that Valentin didn't tire of it, and be done with Laurent for good. Maybe there was hope for him yet?

"What has anyone else done to be worthy of respect lately?" Valentin began picking things off of trays and platters, seeming oblivious to the kitchen staff he might be disturbing, except in that he dodged around them quite easily. "The Hour is home to vicious creatures, the Citadel sits in thrall to a child and her brother, and the King himself rules only at the pleasure of the Duchess." He paused, seeming to contemplate an apple as he plucked it from atop a bushel. "If she wasn't completely terrifying, I might be able to appreciate her in the most abstract sense."

The very mention of the woman's title was enough to make Laurent shudder a bit as he claimed an apple for himself after flashing a quick apologetic look at one of the women in charge of the kitchens who was glaring daggers at them both; the woman was a right terror when she wanted to be and he didn't dare venture into the kitchen when he knew she had the cleaver in her hand. Really, if she wanted them gone, all she had to do was give them something and then shove them both out of the room. Her mother had been doing it since he was little and too young to know better, after all; she certainly shouldn't have any problem doing the same now.

"Don't say her name," Laurent hissed, glancing back towards the kitchen door almost as if he feared the very mention of her title would cause her to descend upon the house like some sort of evil witch out of a fairy story. "She might hear." Somehow. Magically. He wasn't quite certain how, mind, but if anyone could manage that, it would be Duchess Katrin Bharquite. She was nothing if not terrifying, after all.

Valentin paused outside the kitchen to stare, incredulous, at his cousin. He was silent for a moment, before he began to laugh.

It took him a few minutes to regain his composure.

"Really, Laurent?" Still chuckling, he looked sideways at his cousin as they walked. "Katrin Bharquite is many things, but some fey witch is even beyond her fearsome abilities, I think." Then again, in this day and age, who was to say?

In this day and age, nothing would surprise him. Not even the Duchess secretly being some sort of Golden Hour experiment would surprise him. She was many things, incredibly terrifying being one of them. Anyone could be an Other, even the Duchess. Who knew how long the Golden Hour had been toying with those things?

"The Duchess could be an Other and we wouldn't even know it," he pointed out. "I hear some of them look quite human." Not that he had ever seen one, nor did he really want to. As far as he was concerned, the whole lot of them could stay shut in at the Hour's compound. One of them had killed someone, after all; they were probably all as dangerous as the Citadel believed them to be. "Besides, the Hour isn't stupid. It would hardly surprise me if they were trying to take control of the ruling house from behind the scenes."

"The Duchess isn’t an Other." Valentin rolled his eyes. "You don’t pay any attention to what’s going on around you, do you Laurent?" There was a slight thread of frustration in his tone, mixed in amongst the disdain. His cousin could do to pay a bit of attention to these things instead of just studying dusty old histories. Things were going on all around him, after all. "There is no one in the royal house more aligned with the Citadel, than the Duchess, I’d think. In any case, the Hour already has the ear of the King, it seems, so they’d have a better time just getting rid of the woman altogether."

"I pay attention," he said, giving him the barest hint of a grin as he raised his apple to his lips, "but I wonder if you do sometimes." As far as Laurent was concerned, it was a valid question. There were moments where Valentin seemed -- well, "simple" wasn’t quite the word he was looking for, but he supposed it would suffice until he could come up with something better. Sometimes, it truly did seem to Laurent that Valentin only chose to focus on the most basic things, not anything on a grander scale.

Then again, there were moments when Valentin managed to surprise him, he reflected as he took a bite out of his apple. Where the Duchess was concerned, however, it seemed as though Valentin was more perceptive than he had thought. That would certainly teach him to underestimate him, he supposed... "I tell you, there's something unnatural about that woman."

"I’m not arguing with you on the strangeness of the woman. I think we can agree on that, at least. But you won’t convince me she’s an Other."

It was no secret to Valentin that his cousin thought he was an idiot. But that was fine. He hadn’t been the one who had been cowering at the mention of Katrin’s name not moments earlier.

"It that why you wouldn’t come to Myron’s little party, Laurent?" Valentin couldn’t help but smile at that. "I had no idea that the Others struck such fear into your heart."

The Others didn’t terrify him as much as Valentin believed, but Laurent had been around his cousin long enough to know better than to try to correct him. If he tried, Valentin simply wouldn’t listen, anyway, and would accept what he believed to be true over the actual truth. He had learned that a long time ago; Valentin was quite good at conveniently not hearing certain things. Laurent suspected that was partially why Valentin and his father were at odds most of the time, but knew better than to say it.

Instead, he rolled his eyes, and said, "I refused to go to Myron’s ball because I get enough party nonsense with this family in general, not to mention the costume you wanted to shove me into was horrendous." Of course, trust his cousin to hone in on the single most obnoxious thing in the history of mankind, full of enough sparkle and shiny things to make him a moving target. Valentin’s own costume had been little better, and both all but screamed to the world that they were of noble blood and to please rob us of everything they owned.

Laurent would have preferred a jaunt through the worse parts of Tyrol over that.

Valentin just laughed. Maybe one day his cousin would learn when he was being serious, and when he was making fun, but he wasn’t about to hold his breath waiting for that day. "Well, you hadn’t arranged anything; at the last minute it was the best that could be done. Your dedication to keeping me out of trouble seems to be lacking at times, cousin."

Unfortunately for Laurent, Valentin’s joking demeanor tended to be exactly the same as his normal one, making it very difficult to distinguish between the two. If only there were signs or something; that would make it easier. But, for now, Laurent was stuck attempting to distinguish between the two and failing miserably.

"It wasn’t as if it mattered," he pointed out. "Unless you somehow managed to get onto his roof and proclaimed to all of Tyrol who you were, everyone was masked. If you did something stupid, it wouldn’t come back to you. Therefore, there was little need for me to be there anyway." Then again, considering Valentin often made it a game of seeing if he could sneak away from him, perhaps he should have made things a bit more entertaining for him... "Or should I have at least pretended to want to go and give you the thrill of thinking you managed to sneak away from me again?"

"Ah, of course." Valentin nodded firmly. "No one has ever seen through a masquerade costume before. You’re right, of course, Laurent. Had I done anything to embarrass you, there is no doubt that no one would ever, in a hundred years, have figured out who I might have been. Truly, it is ridiculous to think otherwise."

He sighed. "Would that I had been so wise. Perhaps I would not have been so well-behaved."

And here came the mocking. One would think that after years of this, he should be used to it, but the truth of the matter was that it was painfully difficult to adjust to and Valentin was rather good at using words to cut anybody down several pegs. No wonder the other boy had never bothered to learn fencing or anything similar; his words were his sword. He had no need for anything else.

And yet it was the latter part of it that Laurent’s brain chose to focus on, nearly choking on the bit of apple he was eating. He hadn’t heard about Valentin doing anything particularly stupid at the ball (or since, for that matter), but that still didn’t stop him from looking up and narrowing his eyes at his cousin. His cousin had a reputation; good behavior and Valentin just did not mix. Ever. He had done something. Cita only knew what, but Laurent would find out.

"What did you do?" Laurent demanded, staring at him expectantly. This would teach him to avoid going anywhere with Valentin in the future; of course he would have screwed up. Give someone a little freedom and they would go wild with it. He had known that, he knew that and yet he had been foolish. He would never make that mistake again.

"Nothing." Well, it was true, wasn’t it? He hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary for nobility at as masked ball. Ate a little, drank a little, danced and socialized and observed. Certainly nothing that would scandalize his poor, beset-upon cousin.

Valentin managed not to smile too widely. As if he were keeping a straight face, as if he were concentrating on making his cousin believe the lie that he wasn’t telling.

He could just see Laurent trying to figure out what terrible thing he might have done, that had somehow avoided being picked up by any sort of rumour mill or gossip monger.

Oh he was trying. Laurent was trying ever so hard. And, in spite of the look on Valentin’s face, he was beginning to realize Valentin was being ridiculous. Logic was winning out. If he had done something, Laurent would have heard about it by now, in spite of Lord Myron’s murder. Shaking his head, he turned back to his apple.

"Stop being ridiculous, Valentin. Your face will get stuck that way if you keep trying to feign innocence like that. It looks more convincing when you’re attempting to cover an actual lie and not just saying things to be infuriating."

As the realization crossed his cousin’s face, Valentin couldn’t help laughing. "You sound like an old governess, Laurent. ‘Your face will get stuck that way,’ indeed. Sometimes I think that the very act of my breathing infuriates you, but that is something I’m not inclined to stop doing any time soon." He bobbed a little half-bow. "Many thousands of apologies, dear cousin."

Oh, how badly he wanted to smack his cousin. It was a shame he couldn’t. Valentin always knew when he was about to. He would have to figure out how to be less predictable. For now, however, dealing with Valentin was proving to be incredibly difficult. When that happened, it was always best to remove himself from the situation.

He said nothing else, he did nothing else, save for roll his eyes as headed for the door. Perhaps he would lock himself up somewhere and read for the rest of the day. If Valentin let him, that is.

Laurent was nearly at the end of his patience. Which was a good thing. It meant that Valentin could count on him keeping his distance for the better part of the day. So while Laurent holed himself up in a quiet corner with his books, Valentin would be free to wander the festivities without his cousin peering over his shoulder.
"On that note," he announced, knowing his cousin couldn’t care less what he was going to do, and just wanted to escape, "I am going to pay a visit to the galleries this morning, before it gets very busy. I don’t suppose my governess is going to insist on overseeing such an innocent diversion?" He smiled at his cousin, as if he actually meant the invitation.

Laurent spared his cousin a glance over his shoulder. Who was he trying to fool, pretending as though he really wanted Laurent to go with him? They both knew that was a lie; why bother pretending it was anything other than that?

"Why bother asking me when we both know that if I were to say yes, you’d just slip away anyway?" he demanded, though it was more of a statement than a proper question. "Ask your sister if you want company so badly."

"Because it was polite to offer, and I expected to be turned down anyways." Valentin shrugged, shook his head, gave a small sigh. "I can’t win with you, cousin, no matter what I do." He made a shooing motion, as he turned to go off in the opposite direction from his cousin. "Go get some sleep before your foul mood starts spreading."