What the Fox Dragged In [Arvalyn]

[Aurin]

The Golden Peacock Theater
35th of Glade, Year 122 Steel

Aurin walked out of his office and handed a sealed missive to his secretary.

"Send that to the Palace of the First Wind," he said.

"Yes, sir," the young man replied, getting up from his desk. He could dash and be back quickly; if anyone came looking for Aurin while he was away, one of the other secretaries of the triumvirate would field them.

"Thank you," he said, and walked out into the hall to find his little songbird. The trip back from Antiris had been uneventful, though the dwarven girl had been prickly the whole way through. Now she was delivered unto her Dawnmartyr brethren, however, and she was no longer his problem. Perhaps if enough of the little acolytes prayed to him, Talon Novalys would be able to free himself from his bonds and wreak holy terror upon his enemies. That would be nice. If there were going to be big guns, Aurin wanted them on his side. No doubt whoever had absconded with him and his blushing bride were working to turn him to their will, using Aoren as leverage.

It was what Aurin would do.

Actors were already quitting the rehearsal room when he arrived. He smiled and nodded, returning greetings, and made his way inside.

"Arvalyn," he said. "A word?"

The others quickly made their way out, clearly curious. One never knew if he was bearing good tidings or ill. Once the door closed behind the last of them, he smirked, which was to say he smiled, in his way.

"I have information and an opportunity for you."

[Arvælyn]

What a strange season this was shaping up to be. Though Arry and Finn had escaped last season’s dénouement relatively unscathed physically, the aftermath that persisted to the present moment had caused an abrupt end to the Golden Peacock’s production of “Aværys Eternal”. Arry’s star vehicle had become problematic overnight in a way that made it too much of a liability to keep open. And thus were Arry’s dreams of stardom set back once more.

With the new dangers revealed by the onslaught at Talon’s wedding, Arry and Finn were also seriously considering relocating. They both bore affection for this city, but Arry for one didn’t feel bounden to put his life on the line for it. It had been kind to him after a fashion, but he felt no onus to serve it. He was a lover, not a fighter, and Finn and Aurin were the ones he felt a duty to protect. He had little doubt Aurin could tend to himself and Finn was still better in a brawl than Arry would be- especially if it was another setting, like that which presented itself at the reception, wherein Arry couldn’t access his runic abilities.

With potential plans to uproot on a moment’s notice, Arry had choked down his overweening sense of ambition and asked to serve as an understudy rather than seeking out a lead for the current crop of plays in the repertory. That way he’d still get paid, but wouldn’t screw the theatre and burn bridges in the event that he felt obliged to expatriate.

Emerging from the rehearsal room in stockinged feet with fingers hooked through a pair of shoes dangling at his side, he beamed at the sight of his saviour.

“Aurin! You’re back!” He dropped his shoes unceremoniously and tightly hugged the man.

“Tell me everything!” He said into the cup of Aurin’s ear.

[Aurin]

Aurin's arms hugged tightly back; he prolonged the embrace just slightly too long, perhaps. It was just that he missed Arry in general and physically in particular. But he was fine once they pulled back. The rehearsal rooms weren't perfectly soundproof, but they were impossible to eavesdrop as they were built to dampen full-voiced singing and such. Nobody would hear them unless they actually came in. He put a hand on Arry's shoulder, not quite sure if all that he had to share was going to make the younger man emotional.

"All right, so... Found the Grey Raven where your father used to drink. Brother and sister run things now, but he remembered you and your father. A few facts, but mostly conjecture... Anyway, I think it gives us a lead, in any case. He remembered you playing with little clockwork toys your father had made. So I don't know if you recall him being a toymaker, but..." He rubbed at his chin.

"A lot of things might be called the ramblings of a drunkard, but the man's a bartender and you learn to sense the difference between a drunkard talking himself up and one actually relating his woes. I guess he would talk about serving some desert queen." He paused. "The only desert queen I know of is off in Ecith... ther elven conclave you now know so much about and last I checked, they had a queen. Never made it to their capital city, though. Foreign humans like me never make it past the harbor city of Tertium.

"I'm not saying your mother's a queen or you a prince, but that brings me to the lead. There's an embassy coming from Solunarium post haste and the Iron Queen-Regent wants entertainments for them. Yserloo is cock-blocking me on a command revival performance. Says the Dornkirks would have preferred something Kalzasern to what we did for them, but his feathers are still in a twist because—surprise—they would rather talk to me than a wing boy. Anyway, I got him to agree to send you with the caveat that we send a more seasoned performer—his words—along with you. He accepted my proposal of your minstrel, Finnean. Finneas? Finnegan."

[Arvælyn]

Arry leaned in close, feeling conspiratorial even in light of the soundproofing of their surroundings. Perhaps part of him sensed Aurin's nostalgic inclinations, and caused him to huddle closer as he spoke, but whatever the reasoning he nestled near.

"Vadim and..." He struggled to recall the name of the sister, as she rarely emerged from the kitchens when he'd been there. "Viii..." He extended the first syllable, pretty sure it was correct, as he slowly conjured the rest of the name: "...orica?" Yes, that was it. He was sure of it. "Viorica." He repeated, proudly, before hushing up to listen on.

"Yes, of course! Papa said he used to be a 'tinkerer for a royal court' in some distant land, but he didn't really get into much more detail than that- Not with me, anyway." Arry thought back to some of the toys Ruslan had fashioned for him out of whatever scrap he could salvage- A little chariot that was pulled along by a lizard whose body was made of wood that had been cut and segmented into joints that made it seem to writhe as it moved with the energy of whatever mechanism was hidden beneath the painted vertebrae. There was also a dragon made of thin metal that flapped its wings and opened its mouth to conjure sparks when it was activated. Those and many more had been sold or stolen after Ruslan's death. He found himself hoping they'd made their way into the hands of other children to delight them as they had him, but like as not they'd found their way into some junkpile or other since then. His reveries were abruptly dismissed when he became savvy to the implications of what Aurin was expositing.

"Solunarium?!" Naturally, since becoming aware of the strange, remote culture for his recent role as their founder, he'd fantasised about the possibility that, perhaps, he was of Re'hyaen descent rather than Hytori. Perhaps it was merely the heady high of immersing himself in the role, but he grew to embrace the culture. After reading their scripture, he'd even mused that he might have visited a Solunarian temple if Kalzasi played host to any such thing but, of course, it didn't.

"Wait- what?" Arry blinked. This was a lot to process, but he still gave Aurin a 'look' because he knew very well that it was: "Just Finn, but... You're saying I'm to perform for visiting Solunarian dignitaries?!" What started as beaming excitement turned sharply toward anxiety as he realised, "Oh gods- Do you think they'll be offended if they know I played their patron deity on stage?"

[Aurin]

"Good memory," he allowed with a gruff sort of approval.

There was so much he was laying on Arry in that moment, he thought it best to leave the conjectures of his parentage for a later date. Vadim didn't seem the sort to make up things from whole cloth, but Aurin didn't want to disabuse Arry of the one parent who had actually taken any sort of care of him without some sort of proof. Perhaps the mysterious elven mother would tell him. It certainly seemed as though she had an eye on him, and that had to be to a purpose. He could wrap his mind around a parent pushing their child away out of a sense of love. If he had children of his own, he would likely try to put them with people who wouldn't twist them as he had been twisted, as he was sure he would twist children even with his best intentions.

"Huh. I don't think they'd be offended, but we can do a bit of research, I suppose. They take their religion quite seriously. Not all lackadaisical like they do here in Kalzasi. Yserloo will certainly mention it and you can bet he'll be there, wanting a bit of the limelight. My guess is they will focus on you... Since you look like you could be one of their countrymen. I don't suppose they will take umbrage with Finnegal either. They blended their society with the Vastii... Mists, just tell 'em you're curious and they will likely want to sell you on their story."

A crooked smile was all the warning Arry got before he reached out and ruffled his hair. A part of him feared Arry would run off to Solunarium and that would be that.

"Charm them, but be careful with your..." He almost said trick, but knew Arry didn't like that. "Magical talents. They will likely know what they are about and won't take kindly to it."

[Arvælyn]

"I do rather pride myself on it..." Arry conceded in a tone that seemed to want for a smirk, though his typhoon of emotions at present left him with something of a disconnect between his expressive voice and his rather blank countenance.

He considered Aurin's suppositions, and came to an odd realisation.

"You know... It is suddenly occurring to me that I know a great deal more about ancient Solunarium than contemporary." It wasn't as though he'd known a lick about the realm at all two seasons earlier, but he'd rather pored over his studies of the ancient empire for much of Frost. Now that he was faced with the prospect of meeting some of the offspring of that once mighty land, he was faced with the limitations of that research.

His face seemed to catch up with his feelings at the suggestion that Arry might be accorded special attention.

"I do look rather like their patron deity... It's one of the reasons I was a shoe-in for the role." He said, as if forgetting entirely that he hadn't originally been cast and that he'd only found his way into the titular role when the more seasoned actor proved incapable of learning his lines. An issue that had never afflicted him for all his many years with the company prior...

"Just Finn!" Arry reasserted, with a bit more of an edge of irritation. "I know you're doing that on purpose. You have a good memory, too." But he softened promptly. Aurin had gone so far out of his way for Arry's benefit and returned to harbinge such glorious news, that he could hardly hold him in any great contempt.

"I won't, I won't." He waved his hand dismissively. "I'm very careful when I know I'm in the company of more practised mages, which some of their number will doubtless be..." He bit his lip, realising he was doing that thing where he basked in all the attention and failed to offer any in return.

"Annnd..." He stalled for a moment to conjure up a topic, "...how did you find Antiris? Has it changed much since-..." No, Arry, don't make it about you. "...last you were there?"

[Aurin]

"I think they pride themselves on the contemporary being like the ancient times," he said with a shrug, but he had, as he had averred, only gotten as far as Tertium before he decided he didn't want to live somewhere he would always be a second-class citizen due to his race. Then again, he wasn't even a proper citizen of Kalzasi. "But you'll be fine. You're quick-witted and observant. You'll be able to charm some intelligence out of them without magic." He had been grooming Arry for such, and it had paid off from time to time.

Aurin smirked at the little goldfinch preening, but it twisted into something lesser at the young man's irritation. Of course he knew Finn's name; he was only teasing. Rather than apologize, he just shrugged.

"Antiris was... much the same. The neighborhood where the Grey Raven is... it's much like many neighborhoods in the Low-City here, which is much like many similar neighborhoods all over. Vadim seemed pleased to know that you had made it up and out. I didn't give him too many details, but I figured I had to give him a few since he was breaching his bartender-client privilege to tell me about Ruslan—what he knew and what he suspected. So there might be upsetting twists and turns on this journey for you. I want you to be prepared for that. But whatever you find, whoever your mother is, just remember..." He made a face. Aurin didn't like saying things that could be considered emotionally vulnerable, but he had said he would try.

It baffled him that Arry hadn't known how he felt, but apparently his actions didn't speak as loudly as he hoped.

"Remember it's just details... accidents of birth and whatnot... You know who you are, and you know you'll always have me no matter what."

[Arvælyn]

“That makes sense, I suppose…” Arry acknowledged, “It must be validating to hearken back to the days when your realm was ruled by literal deities.” It would certainly make his life easier if things hadn’t changed terribly much. Although the aftermath of the fall of Aværys and Varvara was only lightly grazed in Phædryn’s epilogue speech, Arry had been curious enough about the outcome to have read some of how things played out after the Re’hyaen ‘Rending’.

“It will be intriguing to know some of how things played out in the intervening millennia…” It sounded strange to note so great a span of time so cavalierly, but Solunarium seemed like a very unusual place.

“Yes… when I’ve found myself in the Low City, I’ve often been reminded of the old neighbourhood. It’s one of the reasons I avoid it, when I’m able.” Most of his trips had, after all, been for Finn’s sake. That, at least, had made the solemn reminders worth it.

“I think I used to fancy Vadim before I knew what it was to fancy someone. Is he still terrible strapping, or has a live behind the taps gone to his gut?” He looked Aurin up and down, suddenly recalling what a rake the man could be. He’d not have been surprised if he’d pursued Vadim. Hell, he’d not have been surprised if he’d been successful in that pursuit.

As the banter turned serious, Arry pursed his lips.

“I…” he paused, and set his jaw. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m hard as flint, me.” One might note he was also as quick to spark when struck at certain angles, but he wasn’t an histrionic sort. He was more prone to wrath, after all, than sorrow.

[Aurin]

Aurin laughed, wondering what it said about the both of them that Vadim had been passing attractive.

"You would likely still fancy Vadim," he assured him. One could argue the man was a happy medium between Aurin and Finn, both of whom seemed types fit for Arry. If Aurin still fancied Arry, well, he wasn't going to say it if Arry had already heard it in his symphony.

But as for the rest, he reached out and put his hand over Arry's.

"Flint shivers and shatters if hit just right. Just remember you have Finn, you have me, you have the career you are building here. Solunarium be damned if they don't like it." Of course, if Arry did go to Solunarium to pick up the trail and something went wrong, it would take some doing for Aurin to find out, let alone follow, but he would find a way. He was as implacable as his mother when he wanted to be, and the young actor was one of the people he wasn't willing to lose—not without a fight.

Aurin gave the softer, slenderer hand a squeeze and then pulled away as if nothing had happened. He fired off a few more details that might prove helpful if Arry mined some information from the Solunarian delegation, more context to build a narrative, and then readied himself to go. Certainly, he had work and Arry had much to think on. His ward knew where to find him, both at the theater and at his home. If he wanted to cross-examine him later, so be it.

"I'll be around if you have any questions or thoughts or worries or whatever. Best get with Finn and figure out what you want to sing, wear, and how you're going to draw the crab out of its shell..." He didn't imagine the foreign potentate would be easy to squeeze for information, but Arry could be unassuming in a way.

[Arvælyn]

"Oh, that is a relief!" Arry said, letting out an affirming sigh. "I always hate to see a dashing bloke spoil before his time on account of the drink." He noted with a chuckle. Aurin had been succinct, which only made him wonder more whether there'd been any sort of pursuit or liaison between the two handsome men. The notion struck Arry with a pang of jealousy. Over what or for whom? He knew not. He had no claim on either of them, and the one upon whom he'd staked one was well in hand, so what right did he have to be jealous? He pursed his lips... When had his jealousy ever had aught to do with rights or claims?

He shook it off, and adopted a smile as Aurin further extended his extended metaphor quite cleverly. He nodded approvingly, before processing the point the human was actually trying to make.

"Fair enough." He replied, flatly.

"What sort of crab lives in the desert?" He inquired with a chuckle, before it occurred to him and felt foreboding- "Oh... scorpions, innit?" With that, somewhat harrowing, notion in mind he nodded and stepped to the door.

"I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me... That trip must have been an expensive one, in terms of travel and time spent away from your base of operations. I want you to know how much I appreciate your efforts. I hope you'll let me know if I can ever do aught in return." He wished he were one of those people who just naturally thought of gifts and so forth to delight his friends, but he was the sort that needed more guidance. He wasn't unaware that it was due to his overactive focus upon himself.