When he comes by the Shinou's tent, he finds him bent over maps and scrolls, head pillowed against his arms. Daikenja sighs softly but there's a smile on his lips as he comes inside, minding his steps. There's a hum of power from Morgif that is quickly silenced one the sword recognizes his own presence.
Unclasping his cape, Daikenja is about to lay it over the sir Spitzburg's shoulders, soft companionship, amusement and love burning low for the mazoku in front of him. However, he doesn't manage to pull away when the same man's voice, rough with sleep and exhaustion, stops him.
"You don't need to be silent, Sage." he tells him. He turns his head and opens an eye, focusing on him. Daikenja smiles and bows his head, moves his hand to touch the tousled golden hair in a gentle caress.
"I apologize," he smiles. "I thought you were sleeping."
"Just closed my eyes for a brief respite," Spitzburg answers, stretching. Daikenja catches his cape before it falls to the ground but he puts it over Spitzburg's bed, wincing as he hears the lord's back crack and pop in several places.
It's been a hard campaign, and one of the reasons why the Shinou is so loved by his men is because he works as hard as they do, dealing with the same pains and hardships as the rest of them. The one privilege he had accepted was to have his private sleeping quarters, and even that had taken time and his own voice to convince him to accept.
He puts his hand between his shoulder blades, feeling the tension there. Spitzburg smiles at him, shadows beneath his eyes. Daikenja sighs.
"You should rest, milord. By your orders, we'll rise with the sun and march west for the best of the day."
"Again with the formalities," the king smiles again, eyes on his and Daikenja can't help but smile back. Without the weight of his armor and just with his shirt and trousers, it's easier to notice the family resemblance with sir Bielefeld. "What will it take, my Sage, for you to relax around me?"
He moves his hand up towards the nape of Spitzburg's neck even as he speaks, feeling the slightly coarse hair after months of war and improper care. The king still rolls his head forward at his touch and Daikenja moves behind him, kneading at the tension coiling there.
"I seem to relax a little too much around your presence," Daikenja tells him, and even if he can't see his face, he knows the Shinou is smiling. He digs his thumbs a little more where lack of sleep and bad posture have tensed the muscles. "And you didn't answer my question."
"I can't – oh, mercy, there... – sleep just yet. I needed to go through the maps."
"You've gone through the maps with sir Voltaire enough times." he scolds gently. The Shinou's skin is warm and soft under his hands and even when he moves to keep the massage over his shoulders, the warmth of his body still makes the palms of his hands tingle.
The Shinou groans again, deep and throaty; it's a very familiar – and personal – sound, Daikenja thinks with no little amusement and even a little embarrassment, and it will cause the men standing outside his tent to blush and fidget and wish for alcohol that they cannot afford at the moment.
"I still wanted to be certain that we chose the best road possible. The men are tired and we've too many injured to risk traveling more than we absolutely have to. We're just lucky that the Kleist territory lies nearby."
Daikenja shakes his head gently, letting go of the king's shoulders to brush a hand through his hair. Spitzburg's hand closes on his hand before he moves it away and he nuzzles against it, his face a little rough. It'll be good to get to the Kleist territory: the Kleist family, pacifist by nature and thus specializing in healing maryoku will be able to help them with their injured men, but it'll also give them the chance to rest for a few days before marching again.
"Do you have to go?" the Shinou asks.
Daikenja shakes his head and smiles. "You need your sleep. Go to bed, I'll continue rubbing your back there."
"I knew there was a reason why I kept you around." the Shinou smiles, pressing a kiss to his fingers before he stands up, stretching again.
His tent isn't as big as it could've been, and it's only a few steps from where he was sitting to his bed, taking off his shirt before he turns over his stomach, head resting between his arms. Daikenja keeps away from him just the time that it takes him to take off his own armor and lay it besides the Shinou's, place his own sword besides Morgif and disrobe until he is, too, on his trousers and shirt. He settles astride Spitzburg's waist, knees sinking over the covers.
The king groans again when he starts rubbing his back, and Daikenja takes notice of scars and marks that run over his back that maryoku can't heal, of the way the muscle shifts and how, slowly, he starts to relax. It is only then that he answers, voice low as he allows a little bit of healing maryoku to run through his hands, searching for Shinou's own maryoku to sooth him further. He knows that Shinou will most likely refuse, tell him he should save energies in case there's another attack, and although Daikenja realizes the truth in those possibilities, he also thinks that it is just as important to have their king get some well deserved rest.
"I thought you kept me around because of my charm and intelligence." He answers, leaning forward a moment so that his words brush Spitzburg's ear and neck, pausing his hands. His hair spills forward, brushing the Shinou's skin.
Shinou gives a small groan, stretching like a mountain bearcat. His breathing is already starting to relax.
"I'm afraid, my dear Sage, that's just a bonus," he hears the Shinou's smile even when he starts rubbing his back again, letting his maryoku and his hands to soothe the wariness of the struggle. "It's your hands, really."
"Is that so?" he can't even try to frown. Exhaustion is taking over the Shinou, and once he falls asleep, he knows that nothing short of disaster will cause his people to disturb him. He closes his eyes to feel properly the strength of the body beneath him and of the maryoku that welcomes his own so easily.
"Mmm-hmm," Spitzburg sighs gently, and Daikenja knows he's ready to fall asleep. "And for your dark hair and eyes."
He chuckles again, leans to brush a kiss over the Shinou's shoulder, covering him with his body. It's a shame, he thinks, that he did this to make their stubborn king get some rest, when he'd love to taste his skin and feel both maryoku and body entwined with his. Daikenja comforts himself with thinking that there'll be more opportunities.
"I'll keep that in mind," he whispers. The king makes a soft noise, but he's almost completely asleep already. Daikenja waits for ten more minutes and then Shinou's breathing is deep and paused, his maryoku settling around him protectively.
Daikenja moves apart quietly and carefully, uses his cape to cover the Shinou's back and he resists the urge to touch his hair again. Instead, he sits by the chair and makes sure one last time, mostly for Shinou's peace of mind, that the road they chose is the safest they could possiblytake.