Owain's heart hurts - in a good way, for the most part, he thinks - when Kes and Poe embrace. He thinks of Lon'qu, if only for a moment, and while hugging was much more of a Lissa thing, every hair ruffle and held hand from his father became a memory to cherish - it's nice, that despite Poe's relationship with his dad, the two of them can still do something like this.
He keeps himself in the background, for the most part, staying close but trying to fade out in his head so the two of them can have their privacy. He's torn between the face of his conditioning and the face of his rebellion, and he's unconscious to a lot of things his body is doing - standing far too close to Poe to be considered polite, keeping his head bowed too low to be considered independent. He looks up at Kes when he's addressed, and he smiles, a little too wide but a little too mechanical, as well.
He tries to keep his answer as vague as possible, with a quiet voice, succinct and direct, like Holdo told him. His eyes light up, though, and he looks at Poe for the briefest of seconds with every possible telltale sign that he's just a kid riddled by puppy love.
"Yes. Lord Dameron. Settling in okay." He nods. Goes a little red, as he bites his bottom lip and thinks of the journals, the vow, the sex. "Captain Dameron's the best. He's, um, taking-- taking very good care of me."
Poe steps back from the hug, but takes another step further, so that he and Owain are shoulder-to-shoulder, unless the other man tries to move. Owain might not notice what he's doing, but Poe has, and a knot is already forming in his spine as he resists the urge to snap about it already.
Best behaviour.
Kes, meanwhile, gives Owain a warm, knowing smile. "Good. I'm glad it worked out." He turned his eyes back to his son, the smile fading.
"I'm glad that you recognised your responsibility, Poe," he said, his voice low but just as sure as Poe's ever was. Poe grit his teeth, his lips thinning.
"I'm well aware of my responsibilities, my Lord," he replied crisply, in the way he always tended to use his Father's title when he was frustrated with him. "I trust you've been well?"
"Yes, of course. As always. I heard there- might be a chance of you staying longer in the Capitol?" Kes asked, a note of hope in his voice that there always was, whenever there was a chance that his son might be staying home for a while - but Poe cut that off fairly quickly.
"No. With all luck, I'll be shipping out next week."
"Ah," Kes replied, the sadness seeping back into his expression, his eyes flickering at Owain. "I had hoped to have a little more time to complete your training, Owain. Perhaps we will get a chance, the next time you return."
Owain jumps at the chance to say yeah, of course!, thoughts of spending a week or two back home filling his head, but something stops him. The shadow of Poe right beside him, maybe. He thinks of the room he shared with the other servants - smaller than the officer's bathroom. He thinks of the library, of all the books he loved to read, that he could never take with him. He thinks of the clothes he bought with Poe - the suit he's wearing right now, because Poe fussed and he made it perfect -
And he looks at Kes with something slightly challenging in his eye. It just flares up for a moment, but a moment might be all that's needed to make it clear he gets it now. He gets Poe's side of things.
He should bow. Let Poe field the answer, if there's to be a rejection. Instead he stands a little shorter, feels the weight of Poe's arm against his own as he leans in an almost imperceptible amount, and quietly shakes his head.
"I think... the Captain is satisfied with the amount of training I've undergone. Yeah?" He looks to Poe, scratching his hair, once again turning it into a fucking ridiculous echidna of spikes. "But - I'm sure I can come back for a visit, sometimes."
He meets Kes's eyeline.
"As your friend, rather than as your son's Pledge."
Kes blinks, looking struck. But instead of looking angry, he just looked tired and sad, his face falling.
"I see. I... Am sorry to hear that the title means less to you, than it once did." He turned his face to Poe, his expression shifting. "You have a duty to him, too, you know. You may think you're doing him a favour, Poe, but this isn't how it works, and you should be more careful."
Anger. Pride, maybe, that Owain had found something to stand on his own two feet for, ludicrous as that notion seems now that the moment is gone. The disappointment in Kes's voice, the way he looks struck, that's not-- this isn't worth-- he isn't worth this, his independance is nothing in the face of this. Whatever strength or resolve that had been building over the past four days--
It crumbles. Gone. He can't do this. Not to Kes.
He fades.
"No, I'm--"
How the fuck does he bounce back from this? He panics, suddenly, stepping back and behind Poe.
"It still-- means a lot, I just-- sorry. I shouldn't have--"
Fuck, he's fucking stupid, he just thought of Lon'qu, he just remembered the way Lon'qu used to be there for him, and then he does this, right in the fucking shadow of that memory, disrespecting everything about his father, everything his father gave him--
"Just-- sorry. I know we're not--"
Friends, they're not friends, they're not friends, a Lord can't be friends with a Pledge.
Poe is half a second from snapping at his father, best behaviour be damned, the moment that Owain starts backing down. But Kes cuts him off, first, looking at Owain.
"It's alright. I'm sure you'll find your feet, once you've - gotten used to Poe, a little. I'm aware it's hard not to be overwhelmed by the force of his convictions."
"My convictions--" Poe started, almost visibly bristling, but a look from Kes stopped him, again. It read, very clearly, Not here. You know better. Poe scoffed and turned his head.
He clings onto Kes's approval like a fucking lifeline, taking that it's alright as something that cleanses him. He thinks of the years he spent fucking up the most basic of tasks, and he thinks of how Kes told him he was doing a good job and talked him through it. He thinks of his dad.
He looks at Poe again. Sees him in a different light. A man with power, but a man that's using that power to resist his father, rather than a man saving the world. He looks down at his feet. A small part of him, a part that he's desperately trying to bury, scrambles to shame himself. This is all it takes for him to fall back into line? A look from Kes, a single sentence? This is all it takes?
He doesn't deserve to be human.
Owain nods, aimlessly, not sure what to do next. He tries to find some neutrality in this, addressing Kes with a quiet subservience.
"Poe is-- strong," he mumbles, and he thinks of the vow, and he's just scared, suddenly, of what Poe did when he bled for him. "He's been taking care of me. Like I said. Don't worry. He's-- good. At everything."
An angry heat twisted in Poe's chest, and had this been anyone other than his father he would be pointedly asking them to come out and meet him in the courtyard if they wanted to discuss this further. With fists. To be fair, it's not really anything that Kes has said - the triggers for Poe's anger far closer to the surface thanks to decades of history than they would be for anyone else. But fuck, is he frustrated.
"We're fine." Poe said again, a little too forcefully. "If you'll excuse us, I have duties I have to attend to."
"I'm sure Owain can stay and speak a moment - he has to join the others for the banquet soon, correct?" He posed it as an innocent question, but it was obviously a test - and Poe very nearly failed it, by snapping that Owain was coming with him. But instead he made a single aborted word, and then turned to Owain.
"That's up to you. You can catch up, if you like. I have to make some appearances."
The worst part of this is how badly he needed Poe to fail that test. To tell him to stay or to tell him to go. To give him an order.
Owain stays with Kes, less because he actively made the decision and more because he's too indecisive and hesitant to move his feet one way or another, and Poe leaves to make his appearances before Owain can do anything to stop him. He takes a deep breath and feels isolated and naked and scared, his safety net disappearing into the crowd. He hasn't been without Poe for days. It's a hard feeling to adjust to.
He feels small, next to the closest thing he's had to a father in ten years. He wants to apologize, but it's not his place to seek forgiveness, so he just bows his head to Kes when they're alone.
Okay. Time to talk.
"Poe--" he starts, but he stops. Second time he's said Poe instead of The Captain or Captain Dameron, at this point. He bites his lip.
"-- just. I'm adjusting. Things are good. I'm--" sorry, fuck, say you're sorry, fuck, just-- he struggles, he struggles, trying to handle this. Trying to find a way to talk to Kes in a way that feels right, after what he just said to him.
"--I should thank you. You took me in, you raised me, you trained me. You taught me to be my father's son. I should thank you - for everything. Especially now that-- I-- I don't know how often we'll see each other, now that I'm with Poe."
"I was hoping that maybe you'd end up being a good influence on him," Kes admits, with a sad smile and a sigh, glancing over to where his son had joined a group of women across the room.
"I know I should have... warned you. But I couldn't quite bring myself to make his arguments for him. I thought... should things go for the worse, I would ask you to be my Pledge, in your father's place." He looked back at Owain, still smiling, though the grief was never far from his eyes, when he spoke of Lon'qu. He rarely said his name, to Owain. It was always 'your father'.
"I suppose I was naive, when I heard that that he'd taken you on, that he had finally come around to see the sense of it. I hope he isn't - confusing you. You can still do good by him, Owain. You can still be the Pledge he needs, even if he doesn't know he needs it."
Owain looks back to Poe, and there's a pang of-- something in his chest. An instinct, smothered by childish jealousy at seeing him with those women and loud, aimless fear that he's been doing something wrong all week. An instinct telling him that Kes doesn't get it, he hasn't been here, he doesn't know. An instinct he barely skirts beside before he buries it.
He looks to Kes and sees the grief, and he's never been good at handling this. Any mention of his parents from Kes always ruins him, and his expression twists, incapable as ever of hiding how much it effects him. The thought that he could have been this man's Pledge fills him with so much sadness and anger that he doesn't know where to start with expressing it, so he lets it go, down into an ocean of self-loathing.
"I would have loved that," he confesses, quietly. "Being by your side. K-- Kes. I still would. But I don't..."
He runs his hand through his hair. Finally notices the mess he's made of it. Smooths it down, before he puts his arms behind his back, holding one wrist with the other hand so he won't be tempted to move or fuss or fidget with the freedom of a human being.
"I don't... want to be away... from him." Again, he looks to Poe, and again, he looks away. "I don't want to let him down, or-- or do the wrong thing. He makes me feel-- perfect? As a man. And I thought that was okay. But it's not, right? Because it's-- I should know better. Than this. It's not my place. To be like this. With him. This isn't-- protecting him. I was raised to protect him. I should see his attitude as a threat to his safety and treat it as such."
Kes wasn't physically affectionate, like Poe was. Not with Owain. But in the rare circumstances that he was - it was always to make a point. Always to reassure, reaffirm, and ground him. So when he reached out, he put fingers gently around Owain's elbow, a gentle but firm pressure.
Grounding.
"... You should feel perfect, with him, Owain. Because that's what you are supposed to be. I taught you as best I can, but every - every pledge is different. It's your duty, to be perfect for him. Specifically. Regardless of everyone else. If you already feel that way - then it's alright. It's good. You'll work it out, I have faith in you."
His hand dropped back down to his side, and he sighed.
"But Poe does make enemies, with his attitude. He doesn't understand, or maybe doesn't want to, how fulfilling it can be, to fill the role meant for you. To do it justice. He doesn't understand the honour that comes from it. So he makes enemies, because they believe he has no right to judge them, when they are happy. Poe doesn't see how he - attacks them. Personally. He pretends the system is separate from the people - and it isn't."
He paused, thoughtfully, before turning his eyes back to Owain and smiling apologetically. "But if anyone can protect him, it's you."
When Poe first touched him, Owain leant into it like he'd never been touched before. Starving and hungry and lonely and sad and just desperate for any kind of affection someone might show him. It's so much worse, with Kes. With that hand on his elbow, tears prick at the back of his eyes that he hastily blinks away - he has to start manually managing his breathing, so it doesn't come too fast or too ragged, and he has to ball his hands into fists so he doesn't just step forward for a hug he knows he's not allowed to have.
It ruins him, when Kes acknowledges him. Resets him. The past four days may as well have never even happened.
"I want to be perfect for him. I want that. It's all I've ever wanted. But I don't-- know-- how to do that, when he said that I have to be--"
His eyes flick up to Kes's, and then away. It would be a betrayal, he thinks, to tell him what, exactly, it is that Poe has done. The vow, the demands of equality. It would be a betrayal not to tell Kes, his father figure, about the things he's done. He's tearing himself in two either way, but in the end, he was raised to have loyalty to Poe, and he keeps his mouth shut. Like a good Pledge should.
"I'll-- protect him. Not just for his own sake, but for yours. I won't let anything happen to your son. I won't let this-- continue."
"Thank you, Owain." He gives his son's Pledge a warm, honest smile. Just a hint of relief.
"I know it will be hard for a little while. Don't be impatient with yourself. It's took a while for L- for your father and I to figure each other out. The learning curve is part of the job. And you have... quite a learning curve, to conquer, when it comes to Poe."
He shot a fond look back at his son, before turning back to Owain.
"I can't imagine he will disallow you correspondence. You can write me, if you need assistance."
The smile, the relief, is all he needs to keep going. To lock these past four days away, keep them in him as a mistake he made once, in the distant past, before doing as Poe needs. The near-mention of Lon'qu's name makes his eyebrows peak, and he feels those tears coming back, but he pushes them down, focusing on Poe.
"I know him pretty well, I think." Owain folds his arms over his chest, the suit moving with him like water on his body, perfectly tailored, perfectly designed, perfect for Poe. "I don't think-- I have to figure him out. He's smart and he's dedicated and he's strong and he's beautiful and he's honourable and he's just and he's impulsive and he's brave and-- just, I know him. I know him."
But that doesn't mean he knows how to act around him.
He eyes Kes, wary.
"Would you-- allow me-- to write to you-- without such cause?"
As a friend, he's asking. Write to you as a friend.
Kes just smiles, as Owain talks about Poe. For all their bickering, Kes is proud of his son, and loves him. So it pleases him, to hear him spoken of in that way.
Though he has at least something of an idea of what might have happened between them, in the last four days.
"Mmm..." He murmurs to the question, thinking for a minute, but there's something teasing to his tone.
"Yes, of course, Owain. You know - your father and I - we wrote letters, as children, for a few years. Well. I wrote him, and he sent very short notes back. I think, in this case, we may consider it appropriate."
He doesn't notice the teasing tone, at first, and he flinches. Once he picks it up, though, and once Kes allows him this - he laughs, warm and easy. Kes is kind. Kinder than he deserves. He needs to remember that.
"Okay. Then... I... will. Poe bought me a journal, so I have paper. Of my own."
He doesn't stay to ask Kes for his approval.
"I'm going to find him. He told me to catch up with him. I have to catch up with him. So-- I'll-- thank you. Again. I'm going to go find Poe."
"I'll look forward to them. Thank you, Owain. Take care of him." He paused, the smile on his lips turning wistful and sad, "And-- Good Luck."
When Owain finds Poe, again, he may as well be a different person to the man who had been talking with his father. He was bright, easy smiles and a warm laugh, telling a very daring story to a small gaggle of ladies who fluttered fans while they listened to him. When Owain approached, Poe turned his head as if drawn to him, and raised a hand to the women.
"Excuse me, Ladies. I should take my leave. But if any of you feel like a dance or two, after the banquet--" He trailed off with a wink, which caused three of them to giggle and one to roll her eyes, and turned back to Owain, stepping over.
The smile - a mask from the first - was gone.
"Sorry. I should have just - told him to step off, but." His brow furrowed. "You alright?"
There was a part of him, however small, that couldn't understand what, exactly, Kes was trying to encourage him to do. Perfect for Poe, the Pledge he needs. He gets it a little more, when he sees Poe fall from happy and easygoing to just--
Distant.
He needs to be like that. Fake winks, fake stories. Fake independence, fake independence, fake independence, fake. He smiles as reassuring as he can, distance in his eyes, and he's tired, suddenly. He doesn't want to dance, he doesn't want to serve, he just wants to sleep.
"No, it's okay." Poe. Poe. It was fine, a moment ago, using that name to Kes. Seems harder, now, so he leaves it out.
"We just-- talked." He looks at the women, and again, there's a pang of jealousy in his chest. "How did it go? All of... this. Them. Those. Women."
"I am about one hundred percent ready to just go to bed," Poe said with rueful look, with absolutely no knowledge of a similar thought floating in Owain's head.
"I'm a soldier, not an actor. It doesn't suit me." He stepped closer, reaching out to touch Owain's arm. Not in the same way Kes had. There was nothing thoughtful, or deliberate about it. Just a touch. Because he needed one. Because Owain looked like he needed one.
"Maybe we'll get lucky and there will be a sudden rancour attack and we'll have to deal with that instead." He smirked, but when he looked up into Owain's face, something was off, and the smirk fell. He couldn't place it. "... Look. Don't let my dad get to you, alright? We're fine. You're fine."
Owain offers a hesitant smile, and he tries to make it real, when Poe's smirk falls. He's not sure if it works, but he tries, at least.
"No-- yeah, I know," he says, rushing through this a little too quickly to be believably reassuring instead of just... the voice of a man who wants to get past this conversation as quickly as possible. It hurts too much to focus on, he needs to shut this down, he needs to be a Pledge. "He didn't-- he's a good man. He said I can write to him. So I'm going to write to him. If that's okay with you."
It's then that he notices the touch to his arm, which had gone completely unnoticed. He didn't lean into it, as he so often does. Even now, when he sees that hand there, he just - takes it, passive.
"What should we do now? I'm not sure when I have to get ready for the banquet, but-- we should have a little time. If you wanted us to go anywhere together."
He can tell. He doesn't know what's changed or why but something has and he can feel it worming down his spine. He lets go of Owain's arm.
"... Yeah. I want some air," He said, his voice a little oddly stiff as the gears began to grind away in his brain. He wasn't good, at figuring stuff out, all the time. Especially things like this - no clear cut problem, no line of action - it took him a while to process. So. Getting out of the crowd.
Owain, at least, notices the stiffness in Poe's voice. He's been trained to notice things like that. To give his master things he needs, before they get worse. When they walk out onto the balcony, he's by Poe's side, nudging his shoulder with his arm, as if to say I'm here, I'm not behind you, even as Kes's voice rings in his head. Be perfect for him, be perfect for him, be perfect for him.
The stars are out and the courtyard below is filled with fireflies and hedges, and Owain doesn't relax once they shut the glass doors to the balcony behind them. He doesn't lean out over the side of the railing and breathe in the smell of fresh-cut grass or the dinner wafting upstairs from the kitchen down below them, as he might have, if they'd done this an hour ago. He sits on the railing, instead, facing Poe, quietly waiting for an order or for direction or something.
Doesn't even speak first. Just smiles a little, watching him, waiting. Trying to be a good boy. For Kes, for his dad, for all the things Kes brought to the forefront of his mind when he fucking shut him down, ruined all the hope Poe had built up in him, so swiftly and so easily.
Poe's a man of instinct - of intuition - rather than intellect, and the longer the moment stretches the worse it feels. It's not that Owain is doing something wrong in particular - he's standing there, smiling, watching him, but it's off. Even though the gentle shoulder bumps had - for a few seconds - done exactly as they had been intended to, it still feels off. There's no jittery nervous energy or excitement and it doesn't feel like him. Poe's getting more frustrated by the second - his original thought was asking Owain if he wanted a dance, with those stupid butterflies that had started taking up residence in his stomach. As if it was just- any other guy, that he was incredibly attracted to, in any other situation.
But his gut tells him not to. His gut tells him something is wrong and he watches Owain for a very long minute, as if he could pin it down.
Part of him wanted to start yelling - demand to know exactly what the hell his dad had said that had caused this shift - because it had to be that. It had to be Kes. Owain had been fine before.
He gave a 'tchh' sound under his breath, planting his hands on the railing of the balcony and glaring off over the courtyard. Fuck all of this.
"Yeah. Alright. Fine." It comes out hurt and petulant and he knows it's not fair - he bites down on his tongue to keep that train from continuing. He almost says three more different things, but aborts all of them, like a stupid-looking angry fish.
"Go on," he says finally. "Tell me what's on your mind."
The tch makes him flinch, the yeah, alright makes him cower. He tries to keep smiling, but it doesn't work, and he looks to the ground in a panic, trying to figure out what he's done wrong. Is this just-- how it's going to be? Do something right with Poe, do something wrong with Kes. Do something wrong with Kes, do something right with Poe. He can't live a life trying to make one person proud if all it's going to do is make the other hate him.
He's not an actor, either, but he's going to have to try to be better. Somehow. To someone. He takes a breath.
"You're... ah." He scratches his neck. "I think - you're handsome. In the moonlight. I think all those noblewomen were swarming you because they cared less about the military and more about your attention. I'm trying to plan what we'll do tomorrow - I'll have to catch up on some of the cleaning I haven't done, because we've been shopping... I have to find out what food you like, so that I can memorize the recipes. I'm wondering if you'll have to dance with Holdo... it'll be bizarre, watching that. I'm thinking about you and Lord-- you and Kes, and about your relationship? I'm thinking about your eyes, but. I always am."
He flashes a nervous smile, but it falters like his resolve. Even he can tell that all he's doing is just-- talking about Poe, and that's not right, that's not what he's supposed to be doing, if he's an independent person with his own thoughts and his own feelings. He's supposed to be talking about himself, about his feelings, but all he can think about is the pride and the affection Kes gave him when he talked about Lon'qu, when he said he could have let Owain stay with him.
He can't tell Poe about that, if he's supposed to be a good influence. He scrambles, frantically, for something to say that hits that balance of Owain the person and Owain the Pledge, and it works, to an extent, but it comes out so obviously forced and nervous that it's obvious beyond obvious he has to fight to make it happen.
"I'll have to meet the other Pledges when I'm in the kitchens... and I'm nervous about that," he says, slowly.
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He keeps himself in the background, for the most part, staying close but trying to fade out in his head so the two of them can have their privacy. He's torn between the face of his conditioning and the face of his rebellion, and he's unconscious to a lot of things his body is doing - standing far too close to Poe to be considered polite, keeping his head bowed too low to be considered independent. He looks up at Kes when he's addressed, and he smiles, a little too wide but a little too mechanical, as well.
He tries to keep his answer as vague as possible, with a quiet voice, succinct and direct, like Holdo told him. His eyes light up, though, and he looks at Poe for the briefest of seconds with every possible telltale sign that he's just a kid riddled by puppy love.
"Yes. Lord Dameron. Settling in okay." He nods. Goes a little red, as he bites his bottom lip and thinks of the journals, the vow, the sex. "Captain Dameron's the best. He's, um, taking-- taking very good care of me."
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Best behaviour.
Kes, meanwhile, gives Owain a warm, knowing smile. "Good. I'm glad it worked out." He turned his eyes back to his son, the smile fading.
"I'm glad that you recognised your responsibility, Poe," he said, his voice low but just as sure as Poe's ever was. Poe grit his teeth, his lips thinning.
"I'm well aware of my responsibilities, my Lord," he replied crisply, in the way he always tended to use his Father's title when he was frustrated with him. "I trust you've been well?"
"Yes, of course. As always. I heard there- might be a chance of you staying longer in the Capitol?" Kes asked, a note of hope in his voice that there always was, whenever there was a chance that his son might be staying home for a while - but Poe cut that off fairly quickly.
"No. With all luck, I'll be shipping out next week."
"Ah," Kes replied, the sadness seeping back into his expression, his eyes flickering at Owain. "I had hoped to have a little more time to complete your training, Owain. Perhaps we will get a chance, the next time you return."
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And he looks at Kes with something slightly challenging in his eye. It just flares up for a moment, but a moment might be all that's needed to make it clear he gets it now. He gets Poe's side of things.
He should bow. Let Poe field the answer, if there's to be a rejection. Instead he stands a little shorter, feels the weight of Poe's arm against his own as he leans in an almost imperceptible amount, and quietly shakes his head.
"I think... the Captain is satisfied with the amount of training I've undergone. Yeah?" He looks to Poe, scratching his hair, once again turning it into a fucking ridiculous echidna of spikes. "But - I'm sure I can come back for a visit, sometimes."
He meets Kes's eyeline.
"As your friend, rather than as your son's Pledge."
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"I see. I... Am sorry to hear that the title means less to you, than it once did." He turned his face to Poe, his expression shifting. "You have a duty to him, too, you know. You may think you're doing him a favour, Poe, but this isn't how it works, and you should be more careful."
"We're fine. That's for your concern."
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Anger. Pride, maybe, that Owain had found something to stand on his own two feet for, ludicrous as that notion seems now that the moment is gone. The disappointment in Kes's voice, the way he looks struck, that's not-- this isn't worth-- he isn't worth this, his independance is nothing in the face of this. Whatever strength or resolve that had been building over the past four days--
It crumbles. Gone. He can't do this. Not to Kes.
He fades.
"No, I'm--"
How the fuck does he bounce back from this? He panics, suddenly, stepping back and behind Poe.
"It still-- means a lot, I just-- sorry. I shouldn't have--"
Fuck, he's fucking stupid, he just thought of Lon'qu, he just remembered the way Lon'qu used to be there for him, and then he does this, right in the fucking shadow of that memory, disrespecting everything about his father, everything his father gave him--
"Just-- sorry. I know we're not--"
Friends, they're not friends, they're not friends, a Lord can't be friends with a Pledge.
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"It's alright. I'm sure you'll find your feet, once you've - gotten used to Poe, a little. I'm aware it's hard not to be overwhelmed by the force of his convictions."
"My convictions--" Poe started, almost visibly bristling, but a look from Kes stopped him, again. It read, very clearly, Not here. You know better. Poe scoffed and turned his head.
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He looks at Poe again. Sees him in a different light. A man with power, but a man that's using that power to resist his father, rather than a man saving the world. He looks down at his feet. A small part of him, a part that he's desperately trying to bury, scrambles to shame himself. This is all it takes for him to fall back into line? A look from Kes, a single sentence? This is all it takes?
He doesn't deserve to be human.
Owain nods, aimlessly, not sure what to do next. He tries to find some neutrality in this, addressing Kes with a quiet subservience.
"Poe is-- strong," he mumbles, and he thinks of the vow, and he's just scared, suddenly, of what Poe did when he bled for him. "He's been taking care of me. Like I said. Don't worry. He's-- good. At everything."
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"We're fine." Poe said again, a little too forcefully. "If you'll excuse us, I have duties I have to attend to."
"I'm sure Owain can stay and speak a moment - he has to join the others for the banquet soon, correct?" He posed it as an innocent question, but it was obviously a test - and Poe very nearly failed it, by snapping that Owain was coming with him. But instead he made a single aborted word, and then turned to Owain.
"That's up to you. You can catch up, if you like. I have to make some appearances."
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Owain stays with Kes, less because he actively made the decision and more because he's too indecisive and hesitant to move his feet one way or another, and Poe leaves to make his appearances before Owain can do anything to stop him. He takes a deep breath and feels isolated and naked and scared, his safety net disappearing into the crowd. He hasn't been without Poe for days. It's a hard feeling to adjust to.
He feels small, next to the closest thing he's had to a father in ten years. He wants to apologize, but it's not his place to seek forgiveness, so he just bows his head to Kes when they're alone.
Okay. Time to talk.
"Poe--" he starts, but he stops. Second time he's said Poe instead of The Captain or Captain Dameron, at this point. He bites his lip.
"-- just. I'm adjusting. Things are good. I'm--" sorry, fuck, say you're sorry, fuck, just-- he struggles, he struggles, trying to handle this. Trying to find a way to talk to Kes in a way that feels right, after what he just said to him.
"--I should thank you. You took me in, you raised me, you trained me. You taught me to be my father's son. I should thank you - for everything. Especially now that-- I-- I don't know how often we'll see each other, now that I'm with Poe."
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"I know I should have... warned you. But I couldn't quite bring myself to make his arguments for him. I thought... should things go for the worse, I would ask you to be my Pledge, in your father's place." He looked back at Owain, still smiling, though the grief was never far from his eyes, when he spoke of Lon'qu. He rarely said his name, to Owain. It was always 'your father'.
"I suppose I was naive, when I heard that that he'd taken you on, that he had finally come around to see the sense of it. I hope he isn't - confusing you. You can still do good by him, Owain. You can still be the Pledge he needs, even if he doesn't know he needs it."
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Owain looks back to Poe, and there's a pang of-- something in his chest. An instinct, smothered by childish jealousy at seeing him with those women and loud, aimless fear that he's been doing something wrong all week. An instinct telling him that Kes doesn't get it, he hasn't been here, he doesn't know. An instinct he barely skirts beside before he buries it.
He looks to Kes and sees the grief, and he's never been good at handling this. Any mention of his parents from Kes always ruins him, and his expression twists, incapable as ever of hiding how much it effects him. The thought that he could have been this man's Pledge fills him with so much sadness and anger that he doesn't know where to start with expressing it, so he lets it go, down into an ocean of self-loathing.
"I would have loved that," he confesses, quietly. "Being by your side. K-- Kes. I still would. But I don't..."
He runs his hand through his hair. Finally notices the mess he's made of it. Smooths it down, before he puts his arms behind his back, holding one wrist with the other hand so he won't be tempted to move or fuss or fidget with the freedom of a human being.
"I don't... want to be away... from him." Again, he looks to Poe, and again, he looks away. "I don't want to let him down, or-- or do the wrong thing. He makes me feel-- perfect? As a man. And I thought that was okay. But it's not, right? Because it's-- I should know better. Than this. It's not my place. To be like this. With him. This isn't-- protecting him. I was raised to protect him. I should see his attitude as a threat to his safety and treat it as such."
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Grounding.
"... You should feel perfect, with him, Owain. Because that's what you are supposed to be. I taught you as best I can, but every - every pledge is different. It's your duty, to be perfect for him. Specifically. Regardless of everyone else. If you already feel that way - then it's alright. It's good. You'll work it out, I have faith in you."
His hand dropped back down to his side, and he sighed.
"But Poe does make enemies, with his attitude. He doesn't understand, or maybe doesn't want to, how fulfilling it can be, to fill the role meant for you. To do it justice. He doesn't understand the honour that comes from it. So he makes enemies, because they believe he has no right to judge them, when they are happy. Poe doesn't see how he - attacks them. Personally. He pretends the system is separate from the people - and it isn't."
He paused, thoughtfully, before turning his eyes back to Owain and smiling apologetically. "But if anyone can protect him, it's you."
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It ruins him, when Kes acknowledges him. Resets him. The past four days may as well have never even happened.
"I want to be perfect for him. I want that. It's all I've ever wanted. But I don't-- know-- how to do that, when he said that I have to be--"
His eyes flick up to Kes's, and then away. It would be a betrayal, he thinks, to tell him what, exactly, it is that Poe has done. The vow, the demands of equality. It would be a betrayal not to tell Kes, his father figure, about the things he's done. He's tearing himself in two either way, but in the end, he was raised to have loyalty to Poe, and he keeps his mouth shut. Like a good Pledge should.
"I'll-- protect him. Not just for his own sake, but for yours. I won't let anything happen to your son. I won't let this-- continue."
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"I know it will be hard for a little while. Don't be impatient with yourself. It's took a while for L- for your father and I to figure each other out. The learning curve is part of the job. And you have... quite a learning curve, to conquer, when it comes to Poe."
He shot a fond look back at his son, before turning back to Owain.
"I can't imagine he will disallow you correspondence. You can write me, if you need assistance."
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"I know him pretty well, I think." Owain folds his arms over his chest, the suit moving with him like water on his body, perfectly tailored, perfectly designed, perfect for Poe. "I don't think-- I have to figure him out. He's smart and he's dedicated and he's strong and he's beautiful and he's honourable and he's just and he's impulsive and he's brave and-- just, I know him. I know him."
But that doesn't mean he knows how to act around him.
He eyes Kes, wary.
"Would you-- allow me-- to write to you-- without such cause?"
As a friend, he's asking. Write to you as a friend.
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Though he has at least something of an idea of what might have happened between them, in the last four days.
"Mmm..." He murmurs to the question, thinking for a minute, but there's something teasing to his tone.
"Yes, of course, Owain. You know - your father and I - we wrote letters, as children, for a few years. Well. I wrote him, and he sent very short notes back. I think, in this case, we may consider it appropriate."
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"Okay. Then... I... will. Poe bought me a journal, so I have paper. Of my own."
He doesn't stay to ask Kes for his approval.
"I'm going to find him. He told me to catch up with him. I have to catch up with him. So-- I'll-- thank you. Again. I'm going to go find Poe."
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When Owain finds Poe, again, he may as well be a different person to the man who had been talking with his father. He was bright, easy smiles and a warm laugh, telling a very daring story to a small gaggle of ladies who fluttered fans while they listened to him. When Owain approached, Poe turned his head as if drawn to him, and raised a hand to the women.
"Excuse me, Ladies. I should take my leave. But if any of you feel like a dance or two, after the banquet--" He trailed off with a wink, which caused three of them to giggle and one to roll her eyes, and turned back to Owain, stepping over.
The smile - a mask from the first - was gone.
"Sorry. I should have just - told him to step off, but." His brow furrowed. "You alright?"
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Distant.
He needs to be like that. Fake winks, fake stories. Fake independence, fake independence, fake independence, fake. He smiles as reassuring as he can, distance in his eyes, and he's tired, suddenly. He doesn't want to dance, he doesn't want to serve, he just wants to sleep.
"No, it's okay." Poe. Poe. It was fine, a moment ago, using that name to Kes. Seems harder, now, so he leaves it out.
"We just-- talked." He looks at the women, and again, there's a pang of jealousy in his chest. "How did it go? All of... this. Them. Those. Women."
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"I'm a soldier, not an actor. It doesn't suit me." He stepped closer, reaching out to touch Owain's arm. Not in the same way Kes had. There was nothing thoughtful, or deliberate about it. Just a touch. Because he needed one. Because Owain looked like he needed one.
"Maybe we'll get lucky and there will be a sudden rancour attack and we'll have to deal with that instead." He smirked, but when he looked up into Owain's face, something was off, and the smirk fell. He couldn't place it. "... Look. Don't let my dad get to you, alright? We're fine. You're fine."
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"No-- yeah, I know," he says, rushing through this a little too quickly to be believably reassuring instead of just... the voice of a man who wants to get past this conversation as quickly as possible. It hurts too much to focus on, he needs to shut this down, he needs to be a Pledge. "He didn't-- he's a good man. He said I can write to him. So I'm going to write to him. If that's okay with you."
It's then that he notices the touch to his arm, which had gone completely unnoticed. He didn't lean into it, as he so often does. Even now, when he sees that hand there, he just - takes it, passive.
"What should we do now? I'm not sure when I have to get ready for the banquet, but-- we should have a little time. If you wanted us to go anywhere together."
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"... Yeah. I want some air," He said, his voice a little oddly stiff as the gears began to grind away in his brain. He wasn't good, at figuring stuff out, all the time. Especially things like this - no clear cut problem, no line of action - it took him a while to process. So. Getting out of the crowd.
"Balcony?"
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The stars are out and the courtyard below is filled with fireflies and hedges, and Owain doesn't relax once they shut the glass doors to the balcony behind them. He doesn't lean out over the side of the railing and breathe in the smell of fresh-cut grass or the dinner wafting upstairs from the kitchen down below them, as he might have, if they'd done this an hour ago. He sits on the railing, instead, facing Poe, quietly waiting for an order or for direction or something.
Doesn't even speak first. Just smiles a little, watching him, waiting. Trying to be a good boy. For Kes, for his dad, for all the things Kes brought to the forefront of his mind when he fucking shut him down, ruined all the hope Poe had built up in him, so swiftly and so easily.
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Poe's a man of instinct - of intuition - rather than intellect, and the longer the moment stretches the worse it feels. It's not that Owain is doing something wrong in particular - he's standing there, smiling, watching him, but it's off. Even though the gentle shoulder bumps had - for a few seconds - done exactly as they had been intended to, it still feels off. There's no jittery nervous energy or excitement and it doesn't feel like him. Poe's getting more frustrated by the second - his original thought was asking Owain if he wanted a dance, with those stupid butterflies that had started taking up residence in his stomach. As if it was just- any other guy, that he was incredibly attracted to, in any other situation.
But his gut tells him not to. His gut tells him something is wrong and he watches Owain for a very long minute, as if he could pin it down.
Part of him wanted to start yelling - demand to know exactly what the hell his dad had said that had caused this shift - because it had to be that. It had to be Kes. Owain had been fine before.
He gave a 'tchh' sound under his breath, planting his hands on the railing of the balcony and glaring off over the courtyard. Fuck all of this.
"Yeah. Alright. Fine." It comes out hurt and petulant and he knows it's not fair - he bites down on his tongue to keep that train from continuing. He almost says three more different things, but aborts all of them, like a stupid-looking angry fish.
"Go on," he says finally. "Tell me what's on your mind."
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The tch makes him flinch, the yeah, alright makes him cower. He tries to keep smiling, but it doesn't work, and he looks to the ground in a panic, trying to figure out what he's done wrong. Is this just-- how it's going to be? Do something right with Poe, do something wrong with Kes. Do something wrong with Kes, do something right with Poe. He can't live a life trying to make one person proud if all it's going to do is make the other hate him.
He's not an actor, either, but he's going to have to try to be better. Somehow. To someone. He takes a breath.
"You're... ah." He scratches his neck. "I think - you're handsome. In the moonlight. I think all those noblewomen were swarming you because they cared less about the military and more about your attention. I'm trying to plan what we'll do tomorrow - I'll have to catch up on some of the cleaning I haven't done, because we've been shopping... I have to find out what food you like, so that I can memorize the recipes. I'm wondering if you'll have to dance with Holdo... it'll be bizarre, watching that. I'm thinking about you and Lord-- you and Kes, and about your relationship? I'm thinking about your eyes, but. I always am."
He flashes a nervous smile, but it falters like his resolve. Even he can tell that all he's doing is just-- talking about Poe, and that's not right, that's not what he's supposed to be doing, if he's an independent person with his own thoughts and his own feelings. He's supposed to be talking about himself, about his feelings, but all he can think about is the pride and the affection Kes gave him when he talked about Lon'qu, when he said he could have let Owain stay with him.
He can't tell Poe about that, if he's supposed to be a good influence. He scrambles, frantically, for something to say that hits that balance of Owain the person and Owain the Pledge, and it works, to an extent, but it comes out so obviously forced and nervous that it's obvious beyond obvious he has to fight to make it happen.
"I'll have to meet the other Pledges when I'm in the kitchens... and I'm nervous about that," he says, slowly.
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