[ The key to hiding a lie, Kaeya knows all too well, is to bury it within more of its kind. Too many people make the amateur mistake of pretending they hide no skeletons in their closest, never realizing their shallow attempts at denial only makes it easier to funnel out their dirty little secrets. No, true deception requires effort, requires dedication - thousands and thousands of little lies and half-truths and whole truths twisted the wrong way around, each one individually thin and translucent as a sheet of frost, layered over each other and packed so tightly until they form an impenetrable glacier. Until it's impossible to tell where one ends and another begins, melting away only to refreeze into another form entire.
And so tucked away in a drawer in the nightstand by his bed is a discreet little wooden box, the lid firmly sealed shut with a complicated lock - but not so complicated that a person cunning enough to break into a knight captain's personal chambers wouldn't be able to pick given enough time and dedication. Within, they would find a crystalline bottle filled with what a single sniff would tell them is undoubtedly omega pheromones - and there it would be. Kaeya Alberich's greatest secret: that this man who flaunts his secondary gender so shamelessly is no true omegaborn at all.
Not a particularly exciting scandal, given how such a thing is hardly unheard of in the City of Freedom, but a satsifying one nonetheless. Word would spread across the entire city within the day; how embarrassing, how pitiable, that the sultry Captain Alberich who struts his scent and beauty wherever he goes has had to rely on artificial pheromones all this time! Tongues would waggle over whether he'd been born a beta or alpha, speculations on what his natural scent would consist of. His stupider enemies would attempt to blackmail or taunt him over the reveal; his smarter ones would simply reorganize their strategies against him, calling a halt to all the aggressive alphas and the heat-inducers sent his way thus far. Whatever the case, everyone would leave happy and smug believing they've finally gotten one over their notoriously slippery foe.
And thus, no one would think to check the jar labeled as hair oil sitting innoculously with all his other many beauty products on his vanity table. No locks, no safes, just an ordinary jar left unguarded out in the open - certainly nothing to suggest that within contains the results of an ancient recipe devised by the Khaenrians when they could still walk amongst the people of Teyvat, seeking to mingle amongst the populace by replicating the pheromones emitted by what they called 'beta'.
The contents of the jar are still mostly full - it isn't often that Kaeya finds himself in need of it, after all. The first time had been on his fourteenth birthday (or the date he'd claimed it to be, and whether or not that's a lie too even he doesn't remember anymore); he'd furtively dabbed the potion in the dead of night against where his scent glands should have been had he been normal, then later that day crept into Master Crepus's study and whispered with downcast eyes that he didn't feel like a beta. Afterwards, he's only needed to reach for it twice a year, when his supply of omega pheromones starts running low and he has to drop by the library for another of Lisa's marvelously discreet decoctions.
There's certainly no trace of beta on him tonight as he heads down to Angel's Share, just an extra layer of his usual pheromones, the thickening scent a signal of an omega near pre-heat. A group of alphas purporting to be treasure hoarders are temporarily in town, and while normally he wouldn't pull out all the stops for such small fry, the hint of a Snezhnayan accent behind their words makes him think that perhaps they deserve the...extra friendly welcoming committee. Diluc isn't on shift when he enters the bar, which isn't surprising given the man's nocturnal extracurriculars but is a bit of a shame; it's always amusing watching him try to hide the way his nose crinkles in disgust whenever Kaeya swans about absolutely swimming in pheromones.
(Which is frankly a bit overdramatic of him, because Kaeya has been informed on multiple occasions by his many, many admirers that he smells great. Some enticing combination of a moonlit icy night carrying the subtle fragrance of calla lilies, the sharp chill warmed by a rich exotic spice - and while his noseblind self can't see what's so appealing about what sounds like the smell of a confused cryo whopperflower wandering into an overenthusiastic kitchen, he's had no complaints as of yet. He'd think Diluc's obvious repulsion is just another sign of the tension between them, but the nose-wrinkling's been a thing even in their youth, so clearly the man either has some serious prudishness to work through or his taste in omega pheromones run as boring and bland as his taste in drinks. Probably both.)
At any rate, Diluc's not behind the counter tonight and he's certainly not who Kaeya's targeting anyway, so he forces his thoughts back on track, lounging casually as he sips his drink until his gaze lands on the group of alphas in the corner. All of their eyes are already on him, have been so the moment he opened the door; he gives them a casual wave, smile curling at the edges as he watches the wariness on their faces war with their instinct to impress and possess and own. He waits a heartbeat, lets the tension draw out like a string on a harp, before sauntering over with hips swaying and taking a seat.
Noseblind though he may be, the language of the body is one Kaeya is as fluent in as Teyvat, as his own mothertongue. Impress me, says the cock of his hips as he splays himself over the barstool. Dangerous but tameable with the right price, says the tilt of his wrist as he props his elbow on the table. Give me what I want and perhaps you may just get what you want for the night, says the arch of his neck as he angles it just enough to put the long line of it on display.
(They won't, of course. But where's the fun in knowing?) ]
New in town, gentlemen? I do hope you've been enjoying the sights of our fair city.
[ It isn't long before he's talked them into playing a round of cards with him, and from there the game's over nearly as quickly as it begun. Trained though they may be, there's simply too many distractions for a poor alpha to deal with; an omega thick with pre-heat on offer, adrenaline pumping hot from competition with other alphas, focus stumbling between cards in hand and a wicked smile in front - is it any wonder that a few extra words may carelessly slip the tongue during casual conversation? Nothing as substantial as a name or confession of course, but Kaeya has gotten very good at painting a vivid picture with only a few wisps of information in hand.
He's just about gotten what he's needed and is about to move on to fleecing these suckers of at least half their mora when Hoffman comes rushing in with a report of yet another sighting of Mondsdadt's local vigilante. With an exaggerated sigh, Kaeya stands up from the table, waving regretfully at the flushed faces staring dazedly up at him. ]
Sorry to rush out on you when we've been having such fun, but I'm afraid duty calls. But don't worry, I'm a fairly common face amongst these parts - if you extend your stay here longer, you may get to see a little more of me.
[ Whistling cheerfully, he makes his way out of the bar and into the streets and alleys of Mondsdadt - and if he happens to stop a few times along the way to help out various citizens with their tasks and thereby give that wretched Darknight Hero a window of opportunity to escape, well it can't be helped, can it? He's just fulfilling his responsibilities as a knight, after all. ]
[ it's way too fucking early in the morning for any reasonable person to be awake, yet here kaeya is staring up at the ceiling, hand absently stroking diluc's hair in an effort to ground himself from leaping out the window to dispel the frenetic energy vibrating underneath his skin. it's a sensation he's well used to, given that he can count the number of times he's managed to sleep through an entire night without the aid of serious injury on one hand - a survival tool trained into him as a child, still an unbreakable habit decades later.
alcohol had helped. multiple rounds of mind-blowing sex with the other half of his soul helped more. but he's known from the start there's no fixing this, this everpresent buzzing of a thousand bees in his brain. he inhales and exhales slowly, trying to go through the breathing exercises jean so helpfully imparted on him, but emptying his mind has always been a completely unfathomable process to him; rather than going calm as still water, his thoughts seem far more like moonlight scattering across a rippling stream, glittering and flickering in a dozen places at once, never settling for long.
he needs to read through fischl's report tomorrow, a task as arduous as it is entertaining. there's an inazuman tourist in town asking slightly too many questions who could use a round of drinks to loosen her tongue. one of the fatui diplomats has a birthday coming up, he'll need to figure out a gift that sends the right message between polite and threatening. lisa's birthday is also coming up, he'll need to figure out the much more difficult gift that conveys sincerity without going over the top. should he get diluc something too? a bracelet of noctilious jade from liyue, perhaps, that'll glitter starlight blue every time he raises his hand to pour another drink. starlight, night, liyue, that's right - there's been rumors of suits of armor walking around a certain area in liyue, ghostly knights bearing a banner with an oddly shaped star. just a rumor, or a sign of a massive storm to come? diluc's weight on his arm, his face slack in a far too trusting sleep, his chest rising and falling as each slow breath puffs against the sensitive hairs of his nape - how long can he keep this before it too dissipates into the realm of dreams? how long can this last?
moods like these, there's really only a few methods of dealing with them. one, wine enough to drown out the singing in his blood. two, lying perfectly still and watching the walls slowly bleed red with sunrise until he can drag himself to work with the bags under his eye expertly covered by concealer. or three, inflicting his misery on someone else. tonight, he goes with option three. ]
[ everyone knows the cavalry captain of the knights of favonius is a notorious liar - to his enemies, to his friends, perhaps most of all to himself. and the biggest lie kaeya tells himself is this: that khaenri'ah is a dead nation and its people long gone, and any remnants that may linger behind are simply the echoes of ghosts best left to rot. whatever lineage and duties he may have carried burned away with the cataclysm; the last thing anyone needs to remember is the existence of a lost prince, whiling away his days in the city of the enemy.
so when jean assigns him a mission to chaperone klee in the exploration of the chasm in liyue, alarm bells immediately start ringing in his head. he has vague recollections of a mysterious chasm being mentioned way back when, serpentine excavators sent in to find...something, the details of which hadn't exactly been within a child's purview. coupled with everything else - the historical records of abyssal monsters emerging from its depths centuries ago, the recent ban on mining, the reports of hilichurls entering with explanation - and it all paints a ominous picture that while he doesn't have a full grasp on yet, he knows he wants no part of. not him, and certainly not klee, who should be nowhere near the sort of sins staining the soil of his homeland. it'd taken but a moment to contrive a convenient escape; an offhand comment about how helpful it would be for good hunter to have a stronger stove, a momentary lapse of attention as he chatted with sara about her busy work schedule, and he soon found himself tossed back into his office to think about his actions.
he should have known better, really. there's no outrunning the weight of his past, in the end.
that same evening, his ears still ringing from jean's harsh scolding, the thing that had once been his eye suddenly throbs. it isn't pain, not exactly, but rather the wrenching sensation of a sick wrongness - like the sound of metal grating against metal that sets his teeth on edge, like a pulse where no heart should beat, like looking up to find the false sky cracking. time blurs, morphs into shadows flickering on the walls; he doesn't know how long he spends hunched over, dripping with sweat, one hand pressing down hard against his eyepatch, but the pink blush of dawn trickles through his windows by the time he regains enough of his senses to check. and if he had any delusion left of his symptoms being mere exhaustion and alcohol deprivation, that's quickly blown out of the water when the reports start filing in from his informants in mondstadt, liyue, dragonspine, all saying the same thing - hilichurls suddenly collapsing in agony all over the map, with no explanation as to why.
well. there's no avoiding it this time, it would seem. the knights of favonius can hardly ignore such a strange phenomenon, and he can't afford to send someone in his stead to investigate and come back with the wrong information...or worse, the right one. he supposes he should be grateful for small mercies - at least klee won't be in tow this time.
he doesn't head straight for the chasm proper; he's no delver or researcher, after all, and his particular talents are best suited for gathering information elsewhere. instead, he drops into the tavern at the nearby inn and starts striking up conversation with the locals. the innkeeper takes a particular liking to him after seeing how he's free with words and freer with coin, and soon they're exchanging gossip about work and life and everything in between.
"business has gotten a lot livelier since they reopened the mines," she says, cupping her chin. "why, you're not even the first foreigner we've seen in these parts recently!" at this, kaeya's smile sharpens, eye gleaming in predatorial interest. ]
Another foreigner, hm? [ he leans in with a friendly smile, tossing the woman another coin. ] What are they like? Not as charming as me, I hope.
[ it wasn't often that his father now called him to man the bar, much less invited him to spend the night in his childhood home. he was a knight now, after all. duty bound to the city his father before him wished to serve, he was a fixture within the system of their governing as much as kaeya himself was. and what a relief that was, to know that no matter where it was he roamed, that kaeya would be the first to be at his shoulder. he'd be the first to hand him missives, to sling an arm about his shoulder — to tuck himself close under the tarpaulin tent when the others settled in for the night.
he couldn't quite imagine falling asleep without kaeya's weight beside him. it had been an arduous handful of weeks before they were reassigned to bunk together once his position was solidified. and for those long nights, he'd spent it hating it. he'd spent it sneaking into the spaces that kaeya remained and often, he recalled, kaeya crawled into his. it became useless, he thought then, to ever attempt to separate them.
it was a blessing the knights no longer bothered with it.
he suspects it will not be dissimilar this evening, even when kaeya had found himself on patrol until the small hours to cover diluc's typical shift. diluc had told him he'd leave the side-door open once he'd closed up for the night, but still he kept himself busy in the subsequent stretch without him. he knew there was never a firm "time" they would finish up, but— ]
Kae? [ it's a feeling, more than it is the senses. he could always find kaeya no matter the reason, no matter the environment. now, he finds himself turning his head from the idle game of pool he had been playing to occupy himself once he'd straightened the tavern for when the afternoon shift eventually arrived.
leaning the cue against the table, he treads to the edge of the mezzanine and peers into the wide foyer. ] Did you want to join in?
[ there is no visual confirmation yet, but he assumes kaeya paused at the stock room to ascertain that diluc had counted the remaining bottles right. or, maybe, to take a glass himself. kaeya always did like wine more than he did, no matter how he tried it. a shame, everyone told him.
his father once told him he'd come to enjoy it in time. ]
( the sun will melt a field of sorrow ) @anbruch
And so tucked away in a drawer in the nightstand by his bed is a discreet little wooden box, the lid firmly sealed shut with a complicated lock - but not so complicated that a person cunning enough to break into a knight captain's personal chambers wouldn't be able to pick given enough time and dedication. Within, they would find a crystalline bottle filled with what a single sniff would tell them is undoubtedly omega pheromones - and there it would be. Kaeya Alberich's greatest secret: that this man who flaunts his secondary gender so shamelessly is no true omegaborn at all.
Not a particularly exciting scandal, given how such a thing is hardly unheard of in the City of Freedom, but a satsifying one nonetheless. Word would spread across the entire city within the day; how embarrassing, how pitiable, that the sultry Captain Alberich who struts his scent and beauty wherever he goes has had to rely on artificial pheromones all this time! Tongues would waggle over whether he'd been born a beta or alpha, speculations on what his natural scent would consist of. His stupider enemies would attempt to blackmail or taunt him over the reveal; his smarter ones would simply reorganize their strategies against him, calling a halt to all the aggressive alphas and the heat-inducers sent his way thus far. Whatever the case, everyone would leave happy and smug believing they've finally gotten one over their notoriously slippery foe.
And thus, no one would think to check the jar labeled as hair oil sitting innoculously with all his other many beauty products on his vanity table. No locks, no safes, just an ordinary jar left unguarded out in the open - certainly nothing to suggest that within contains the results of an ancient recipe devised by the Khaenrians when they could still walk amongst the people of Teyvat, seeking to mingle amongst the populace by replicating the pheromones emitted by what they called 'beta'.
The contents of the jar are still mostly full - it isn't often that Kaeya finds himself in need of it, after all. The first time had been on his fourteenth birthday (or the date he'd claimed it to be, and whether or not that's a lie too even he doesn't remember anymore); he'd furtively dabbed the potion in the dead of night against where his scent glands should have been had he been normal, then later that day crept into Master Crepus's study and whispered with downcast eyes that he didn't feel like a beta. Afterwards, he's only needed to reach for it twice a year, when his supply of omega pheromones starts running low and he has to drop by the library for another of Lisa's marvelously discreet decoctions.
There's certainly no trace of beta on him tonight as he heads down to Angel's Share, just an extra layer of his usual pheromones, the thickening scent a signal of an omega near pre-heat. A group of alphas purporting to be treasure hoarders are temporarily in town, and while normally he wouldn't pull out all the stops for such small fry, the hint of a Snezhnayan accent behind their words makes him think that perhaps they deserve the...extra friendly welcoming committee. Diluc isn't on shift when he enters the bar, which isn't surprising given the man's nocturnal extracurriculars but is a bit of a shame; it's always amusing watching him try to hide the way his nose crinkles in disgust whenever Kaeya swans about absolutely swimming in pheromones.
(Which is frankly a bit overdramatic of him, because Kaeya has been informed on multiple occasions by his many, many admirers that he smells great. Some enticing combination of a moonlit icy night carrying the subtle fragrance of calla lilies, the sharp chill warmed by a rich exotic spice - and while his noseblind self can't see what's so appealing about what sounds like the smell of a confused cryo whopperflower wandering into an overenthusiastic kitchen, he's had no complaints as of yet. He'd think Diluc's obvious repulsion is just another sign of the tension between them, but the nose-wrinkling's been a thing even in their youth, so clearly the man either has some serious prudishness to work through or his taste in omega pheromones run as boring and bland as his taste in drinks. Probably both.)
At any rate, Diluc's not behind the counter tonight and he's certainly not who Kaeya's targeting anyway, so he forces his thoughts back on track, lounging casually as he sips his drink until his gaze lands on the group of alphas in the corner. All of their eyes are already on him, have been so the moment he opened the door; he gives them a casual wave, smile curling at the edges as he watches the wariness on their faces war with their instinct to impress and possess and own. He waits a heartbeat, lets the tension draw out like a string on a harp, before sauntering over with hips swaying and taking a seat.
Noseblind though he may be, the language of the body is one Kaeya is as fluent in as Teyvat, as his own mothertongue. Impress me, says the cock of his hips as he splays himself over the barstool. Dangerous but tameable with the right price, says the tilt of his wrist as he props his elbow on the table. Give me what I want and perhaps you may just get what you want for the night, says the arch of his neck as he angles it just enough to put the long line of it on display.
(They won't, of course. But where's the fun in knowing?) ]
New in town, gentlemen? I do hope you've been enjoying the sights of our fair city.
[ It isn't long before he's talked them into playing a round of cards with him, and from there the game's over nearly as quickly as it begun. Trained though they may be, there's simply too many distractions for a poor alpha to deal with; an omega thick with pre-heat on offer, adrenaline pumping hot from competition with other alphas, focus stumbling between cards in hand and a wicked smile in front - is it any wonder that a few extra words may carelessly slip the tongue during casual conversation? Nothing as substantial as a name or confession of course, but Kaeya has gotten very good at painting a vivid picture with only a few wisps of information in hand.
He's just about gotten what he's needed and is about to move on to fleecing these suckers of at least half their mora when Hoffman comes rushing in with a report of yet another sighting of Mondsdadt's local vigilante. With an exaggerated sigh, Kaeya stands up from the table, waving regretfully at the flushed faces staring dazedly up at him. ]
Sorry to rush out on you when we've been having such fun, but I'm afraid duty calls. But don't worry, I'm a fairly common face amongst these parts - if you extend your stay here longer, you may get to see a little more of me.
[ Whistling cheerfully, he makes his way out of the bar and into the streets and alleys of Mondsdadt - and if he happens to stop a few times along the way to help out various citizens with their tasks and thereby give that wretched Darknight Hero a window of opportunity to escape, well it can't be helped, can it? He's just fulfilling his responsibilities as a knight, after all. ]
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( darling i was born to press my head between your shoulder blades )
alcohol had helped. multiple rounds of mind-blowing sex with the other half of his soul helped more. but he's known from the start there's no fixing this, this everpresent buzzing of a thousand bees in his brain. he inhales and exhales slowly, trying to go through the breathing exercises jean so helpfully imparted on him, but emptying his mind has always been a completely unfathomable process to him; rather than going calm as still water, his thoughts seem far more like moonlight scattering across a rippling stream, glittering and flickering in a dozen places at once, never settling for long.
he needs to read through fischl's report tomorrow, a task as arduous as it is entertaining. there's an inazuman tourist in town asking slightly too many questions who could use a round of drinks to loosen her tongue. one of the fatui diplomats has a birthday coming up, he'll need to figure out a gift that sends the right message between polite and threatening. lisa's birthday is also coming up, he'll need to figure out the much more difficult gift that conveys sincerity without going over the top. should he get diluc something too? a bracelet of noctilious jade from liyue, perhaps, that'll glitter starlight blue every time he raises his hand to pour another drink. starlight, night, liyue, that's right - there's been rumors of suits of armor walking around a certain area in liyue, ghostly knights bearing a banner with an oddly shaped star. just a rumor, or a sign of a massive storm to come? diluc's weight on his arm, his face slack in a far too trusting sleep, his chest rising and falling as each slow breath puffs against the sensitive hairs of his nape - how long can he keep this before it too dissipates into the realm of dreams? how long can this last?
moods like these, there's really only a few methods of dealing with them. one, wine enough to drown out the singing in his blood. two, lying perfectly still and watching the walls slowly bleed red with sunrise until he can drag himself to work with the bags under his eye expertly covered by concealer. or three, inflicting his misery on someone else. tonight, he goes with option three. ]
'Luc. Hey, 'Luc. Diiiiiiluc.
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@carceral; ( the curse ruled from the underground down by the shore )
so when jean assigns him a mission to chaperone klee in the exploration of the chasm in liyue, alarm bells immediately start ringing in his head. he has vague recollections of a mysterious chasm being mentioned way back when, serpentine excavators sent in to find...something, the details of which hadn't exactly been within a child's purview. coupled with everything else - the historical records of abyssal monsters emerging from its depths centuries ago, the recent ban on mining, the reports of hilichurls entering with explanation - and it all paints a ominous picture that while he doesn't have a full grasp on yet, he knows he wants no part of. not him, and certainly not klee, who should be nowhere near the sort of sins staining the soil of his homeland. it'd taken but a moment to contrive a convenient escape; an offhand comment about how helpful it would be for good hunter to have a stronger stove, a momentary lapse of attention as he chatted with sara about her busy work schedule, and he soon found himself tossed back into his office to think about his actions.
he should have known better, really. there's no outrunning the weight of his past, in the end.
that same evening, his ears still ringing from jean's harsh scolding, the thing that had once been his eye suddenly throbs. it isn't pain, not exactly, but rather the wrenching sensation of a sick wrongness - like the sound of metal grating against metal that sets his teeth on edge, like a pulse where no heart should beat, like looking up to find the false sky cracking. time blurs, morphs into shadows flickering on the walls; he doesn't know how long he spends hunched over, dripping with sweat, one hand pressing down hard against his eyepatch, but the pink blush of dawn trickles through his windows by the time he regains enough of his senses to check. and if he had any delusion left of his symptoms being mere exhaustion and alcohol deprivation, that's quickly blown out of the water when the reports start filing in from his informants in mondstadt, liyue, dragonspine, all saying the same thing - hilichurls suddenly collapsing in agony all over the map, with no explanation as to why.
well. there's no avoiding it this time, it would seem. the knights of favonius can hardly ignore such a strange phenomenon, and he can't afford to send someone in his stead to investigate and come back with the wrong information...or worse, the right one. he supposes he should be grateful for small mercies - at least klee won't be in tow this time.
he doesn't head straight for the chasm proper; he's no delver or researcher, after all, and his particular talents are best suited for gathering information elsewhere. instead, he drops into the tavern at the nearby inn and starts striking up conversation with the locals. the innkeeper takes a particular liking to him after seeing how he's free with words and freer with coin, and soon they're exchanging gossip about work and life and everything in between.
"business has gotten a lot livelier since they reopened the mines," she says, cupping her chin. "why, you're not even the first foreigner we've seen in these parts recently!" at this, kaeya's smile sharpens, eye gleaming in predatorial interest. ]
Another foreigner, hm? [ he leans in with a friendly smile, tossing the woman another coin. ] What are they like? Not as charming as me, I hope.
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( pool hall blues. )
he couldn't quite imagine falling asleep without kaeya's weight beside him. it had been an arduous handful of weeks before they were reassigned to bunk together once his position was solidified. and for those long nights, he'd spent it hating it. he'd spent it sneaking into the spaces that kaeya remained and often, he recalled, kaeya crawled into his. it became useless, he thought then, to ever attempt to separate them.
it was a blessing the knights no longer bothered with it.
he suspects it will not be dissimilar this evening, even when kaeya had found himself on patrol until the small hours to cover diluc's typical shift. diluc had told him he'd leave the side-door open once he'd closed up for the night, but still he kept himself busy in the subsequent stretch without him. he knew there was never a firm "time" they would finish up, but— ]
Kae? [ it's a feeling, more than it is the senses. he could always find kaeya no matter the reason, no matter the environment. now, he finds himself turning his head from the idle game of pool he had been playing to occupy himself once he'd straightened the tavern for when the afternoon shift eventually arrived.
leaning the cue against the table, he treads to the edge of the mezzanine and peers into the wide foyer. ] Did you want to join in?
[ there is no visual confirmation yet, but he assumes kaeya paused at the stock room to ascertain that diluc had counted the remaining bottles right. or, maybe, to take a glass himself. kaeya always did like wine more than he did, no matter how he tried it. a shame, everyone told him.
his father once told him he'd come to enjoy it in time. ]