"Of Seas, Skies & Sands" [Finn]

[Arvælyn]

Esclepius' symphony had an alien quality to the pair of Master Mesmers. It wasn't warded, and did not emit the tones of another Mesmer, but it felt guarded in a way. A lesser mage might have been daunted, but both Finn and Arry could read his strange Symphony plainly enough. He'd started with strong emotions that had consistently been on the wane toward tranquility as they traversed the streets of Tertium. He'd started anxious, put-upon, perhaps a bit insulted at being assigned to the duty of wrangling a pair of foreigners. The name Val'Cithæron had raised his hackles. One could see with their naked eye that it had made him nervous, but those who could read a Symphony would recognise tones of deference to authority buried in notes of recognition. He'd scanned Arry's face for something familiar and that recognition warped into uncertainty that lingered thereafter.

As he noted the pair admiring the villa, Esclepius smiled.

"This villa was, by the royal family, built. In the Epoch of the Founders a fortress sat atop this hill. A frequent headquarters for Aværys, Resplendent Be His Name, himself as He orchestrated our many conquests. It fell to ruin after the Rending, but this villa was built for the Solar Sovereign some centuries ago. It was handed down to House Phædryn, when the royals built a larger palace to the North of here." Approaching the front entrance, Esclepius lifted his hand to greet the guards flanking the gate.

"Ave, custodes! Duo hospites ex Kazasi venerunt." Wordlessly, the guards rapped the bases of their spears against the stones at their feet and the gate was opened from within.

Arry glanced to Finn, as he posed his question- noting his tone, which approached obsequiousness. He infused his Symphony with gratitude and apology for placing him in a position where he needed to play the minion. Esclepius' nervousness was on the wax at the query.

"It is..." He paused, deliberating over how to phrase this, "...a name of great gravity. A name that will yield much... how do you say in Common?" He paused, to consider. "Controversy." He decided. Attempting to soften his cryptic warning, he added. "But it is a good name to bear in the Villa Phædralis." He cleared his throat, and led them through a beautifully landscaped courtyard with sprinkling fountains and flowers both colourful and pungent.

"The servi will have already seen your belongings to your room. Would you care to rest? To bathe? To dine?"

"Mists, all of those sound splendid just now..." Arry mused, looking to Finn for guidance.

[Finn]

Finn took in their guide's brief history lesson, keen to know as much as could be known. He intended to write a fair amount while he was here, though he supposed there would be some time before his mind produced something from all this fodder. Certainly, they were treated to some pageantry with the call and response. It was only that he had never been the reason for such respect; then again, it seemed more due Arry though Phocion had been impressed with the both of them. To some extent, Finn had expected this and had long ago resigned himself to playing second fiddle to his lover while in this land of elven supremacy. At the golden man's gesture of apology, he merely smiled. He could play this role to ensure Arry got what he needed from this place.

"Ah," he acknowledged urbanely. "I thank you for your candor, sir."

Finn thought it were better it came out now in Tertium that they might be better prepared when they reached the capital. Val'Cithaeron was the name he went by; he wasn't going to introduce himself as Arry Venasyr here of all places.

The luxurious landscaping was beautiful, and quite alien to what could be found in the far north. It was hotter here than he could remember a Kalzasern summer, and he supposed it might be worse the farther from the sea breezes they traveled.

"All of the above, I think," he said, a smile quirking at his lips. Lord Arvælyn Val'Cithæron had spoken, after all, and his word was Finn's command. He hoped his beautiful thespian didn't enjoy this role toomuch. "It will be an honor to sojourn in so noble a household."

And once that was all done, he was certain he could find out what rules they had to play by while in Tertium. He couldn't imagine Arry not wanting to explore—the villa if not the city—after so long confined by the taffrails of the ship. He would do what he could to ensure their curiosities were assuaged, and he knew now that he could always threaten to call Arry a litter.

[Arvælyn]

"I... don't think Vigil Phocion ever caught my surname." Arry noted, growing nervous based on Esclepius' response to Finn's inquiry. "Ought I adopt a name of less controversy for my stay?" He'd made the name up himself because he thought it made him sound like a noble of Sol'Valen. It seemed odd that it should bear any weight here... But then the thought struck him. His mother. He'd adapted her given name into a surname. Cithaera to Cithaeron. Was she a controversial figure? Or did she merely share the name with one? Or did he know her real name at all? He knitted his brow at these several questions.

"Perhaps..." Esclepius seemed out of his depth. His face and symphony both broadcast his discomfort at being posed the question. "...Perhaps you might, with Vigil Phocion on this matter, consult." He suggested, "He is planning to join you for dinner."

Arry blinked, "He is?"

Esclepius nodded and caught the eyes of a slave who'd been standing against a wall like a statue.

"Vino." He said, firmly. "Afferte vinum hospitibus nostris." Arry recognised the word for wine and inferred from cognates and context clues that their steward was instructing the slave to bring wine for the guests. He smiled slightly. He could get used to such treatment, but he was still taken aback at the news of Phocion's impending visit.

"Might we be shown to our chambers?" Arry inquired, "We can take our wine therein, if it's no trouble."

Esclepius arched an eyebrow, seeming impressed that the foreigner was familiar with even the cursory Vastian required to glean that much from his exchange with the slave. "Of course." He inclined his head. "Right this way..." He gestured, and made his way into the domus proper.

The villa was constructed in such a way that most of the property was in the open air. There were walls that felt more like accent pieces than anything, or perhaps sources of shade or concealment from other parts of the well manicured property. The bedchambers were of course inside and under an actual roof, but that part of the villa was comparably spartan when compared with the beautiful fountains, topiary and statues that adorned the courtyards and gardens surrounding it.

Arry and Finn were led into a large room with high ceilings and a large window overlooking the cliff, with the open sea and distant horizon visible far below. Their luggage was, indeed, already there- unpacked and stowed in appropriate vessels.

The slave was not far behind them with a flagon and two goblets on a tray. At an instruction from Esclepius, the tray was placed down and the glasses filled, then the slave slipped away.

"We will leave you to your privacy. If you need anything a servus will be just outside. Tell them to summon me, if there is anything I might do to your experience enhance."

[Finn]

The minstrel nodded at Esclepius' suggestion, thinking he seemed a trustworthy enough sort not to steer them wrong. They were guests of the Sentinel, being accorded honor beyond their desserts, and certainly his symphony had no discordance such as he would read as guile. But he too was startled to know that their host would be present in the city, let alone the domus. But he followed his surprise with a smile.

"What an honor," he murmured as their guide ordered them... wine, was it? It was! It was fortuitous that Arry spoke on the matter, impressing the man with his knowledge of the local lexicon.

As they followed him toward their guest chambers, he found it refreshing that the place wasn't overstuffed with fripperies. It was beautiful, and he was certain that every necessary luxury would be present, but it was spare in a sense, like the desert itself. He tried to give the slave a nod of thanks, but was seemingly ignored.

"Gratias," he said, offering a bow to Esclepius. "You have been a better welcome than we expected."

When they were left to their own devices, he wondered if the servus outside their door would speak Common and, if so, whether they would be spying upon them. It had occurred to them before they left that two master mesmers would make excellent spies.

"Vino, amatus? he asked, bringing both cups to his lover. With a smile, he offered one to Arry and then leaned in to kiss him, his hand resting at the nape of his neck. They were on an adventure, but there were dangers ahead. That was true of any direction one took on Ransera, really, but his thumb moved up and down along his golden neck, seeking to soothe him rather than work a spell upon him. Sometimes magic was a poor substitute for physical touch.

After a moment, he stepped away, giving Arry a parting squeeze. He took a sip of wine and took in the sweeping vista out the window.

Then, "Let me see if we have a private bathroom or if we will have to use more public ones. I don't relish the idea of a slave washing either of us, do you?"

[Arvælyn]

Arry leaned closer to Finn, after responding to Esclepius' Vastian utterance and whispered,

"I guess you can see where my linguistic priorities have been focused..." A wise drunk had once told him at the Grey Raven in Antiris, after he'd expressed an interest in learning Mythrasi, that when learning a new language one should always prioritise the booze and the bathroom. The rest, he'd explained, you can figure out in context with enough gesticulating, if it matters enough- Especially once you've gotten the booze.

Esclepius inclined his head to the foreign human, seeming pleased and pleasantly surprised at his graciousness. His eyes quickly scanned Finn's neck for signs of a collar, and his visible skin for any mark of branding. He might have been a servus with such convivial manners. His symphony upon leaving their company was significantly more serene than when they'd first met.

"Scilicet!" Arry replied with a chuckle, accepting the wine and the kiss with equally formidable enthusiasm. "Did you notice when he spoke to those guards he said 'Kazasi' with no L? I wonder if that's how it's actually said in Vastian, or if our Esclepius merely misspoke..." None of the textbooks Arry had perused had made mention of Kalzasi. Why would they? The focus of the vocabulary was upon things that pertained to life in Solunarium, and Kalzasi had very little to do with that. In addition to wine and the washroom, he'd been learning a more pragmatic glossary of Solunarian terms, such as 'Ædis', 'Gladius' and, of course, 'Draco'.

Following Finn to the window, he snaked an arm about his lower back and let his hand rest at the hip there. There were no more great dragons commanding the skies, but at this height he could see that some of the smaller winged beasts were mounted by humanoid forms.

As Finn stepped away to find the door leading into a washroom with a sunken tub, already filled with water and ornamented with purple and white flower petals, Arry canted his head in that direction to call after him.

"I suppose we should don our formal dress for dinner tonight? I hadn't expected the Sentinel to come all this way on our account..." A notion dawned on him, "But then again, if he or someone on his staff has the talent you lately acquired, I suppose it's no great inconvenience to Traverse a sensible eight-hundred kilometres or so.." He trailed off, and shot a sharp look to Finn through the doorway.

"Well..." His glare softened to a gaze, "...Esclepius seemed to think that you were my manservant." He noted, sauntering over to the washroom. "I'd hate for him to think the naughty, foreign human was..." He smirked and mimicked Esclepius' strange accent, "...his duties shirking, and having the Solunarians pick up the slack."

[Finn]

"I did catch that," he replied with a laugh. "I suppose if we hear ourselves described enough in the Vastian tongue, we will know one way or another."

It was nice to be alone with Arry again, to share a touch, a glass of wine, and a new view of the world from their window. His eyes widened at the sight of the bath, but he quickly grinned. Arry had taught him to enjoy the sensuous things in life, of which Arry was his favorite, but many of them could be enjoyed with the golden half-elf.

"Mmm," he murmured, mostly silent as Arry considered dinner etiquette and travel arrangements.

"The thought perish!" he exclaimed, smiling as he set his wine down so he could play the role of manservant and help Arry out of his clothes. He was rather efficient at undressing his lover now that his hand had healed and he had practiced. The work was puncuated by kisses, but he gave Arry plenty of room to sip his wine, knowing he loved wine more than he loved Finn. He might have gone a bit overboard when he picked Arry up and carried him toward the bath.

"I will endeavor to meet all your needs so no other services are required, my lord Val'Cithæron!" But once he had his amatus in the sweet-smelling spa, he just smiled, fetched the rest of the wine so it could be on-hand without requiring they get out of the water. Then he stripped, slowly per Arry's preference, and joined him.

"Oh, I could get used to this," he exhaled on a sigh, then fetched his wine and scooted closer to Arry, intending to soak for quite a while if allowed. Then he answered Arry's previous thoughts. He did listen to his lover, and he remembered. "Probably formal dress tonight. I don't recall magnati being a part of the Solunarian... peerage? So whatever respect we are accorded, we had best keep our hosts happy. Err on the side of caution for now. And I have been mapping the slipspace as best I could since we left... Well, Kazasi..." He offered a lop-sided grin, keeping the joke going. "But since the royal reception. I will keep practicing my Traversion... both with my blade and without. If anything goes terribly wrong, perhaps I will have the skill and power to vault us from the Luxium to the city gates, and then to Tertium, and then to Cathena City, and then to Auris, and then to Kalzasi, and then to our bedroom..."

It would surely take some time between vaults for him to recover, but having an escape plan was just a part of how he thought since he had been beaten near to death in a Kalzasern back alley.

"Shall I wash your back?" he offered, the note in his voice and his symphony lighter as he banished old, hurtful memories.

[Arvælyn]

"I suppose we will!" Arry replied with a good-natured chuckle. Kalzasi, Kazasi- it all felt arbitrary in this brave new world, that had such dragons in it. It was very odd, he thought, how quickly a person could adjust. Perhaps it was merely the novelty, but all the allegiances he'd felt for his former home felt so remote today. It hadn't been so long ago that he'd stood in the Plaza of the Jeweled Arches, and yet today it felt like a lifetime ago to the twenty-year-old Antiran. Kalzasi, actually, felt nearly as remote as Antiris. Another realm, another Arry. Based on what Esclepius had said, he might even be wise to adopt yet another name to suit his environs. It seemed his current sobriquet carried unexpected gravity, but he would need to do more research if he was to select one to suit Solunarium.

Arry chuckled at their ribbing of the absent Sentinel, extending his arms to aid in Finn's endeavour to undress him. He so liked roleplay- he'd made a career of it after all- and if Finn was keen to play along, he would gladly essay the role of the posh popinjay to the human's manservant. He only hoped it wasn't all for his benefit and, when Finn literally swept him off his feet, he was consoled with the thought that it might have been genuinely mutual.

Arry grinned broadly when Finn mused that he could get used to this.

"Is this what it's like, do you think? To be a noble or royal?" Arry had been pampered before, after a fashion, but not quite like this. It wasn't the environs- he'd seen places as posh as this and more in Kalzasi- but rather it was the presumption of idleness. It was the feeling of being an honoured guest of whom nothing was expected. There would likely come a day when the welcome would wear out, but for as a long as it remained undefined, Arry felt at a brand new kind of ease. Finn's talk of escape plans drew him out of it a bit and he wrinkled his nose.

"Can't we have at least a day where we don't presume aught will go horribly awry?" He wondered, "I'm sure, ere long, the bloody dread mists will follow us from Kalzasi and assail us in the desert but, just for today- now that we're out of that stuffy cabin in the open air of a palace they deign to call a villa... can't we just for today pretend we're princes?" He grinned and shook his head. "You too, Finn... You needn't always be the gardener. You can be a flower, too."

[Finn]

"I will try," he promised.

It wasn't that he enjoyed being paranoid; he just hadn't had as easy a time putting Kalzasi out of mind as the miles between them grew. But he rolled his shoulders a bit, and then his neck, relaxing into the water, and sipping his wine. He smiled.

"Flowery princes for the day, then." He tried to wrap his mind around it, school his symphony to something indulgent and effulgent. "I know royalty and nobility in Kalzasi have their responsibilities, but I imagine they do get some time to enjoy things like this. Did I tell you about the bathing pools in the private areas of the Novalys palace...? The Shokaze was watching the children play. Talon was sparring and then soaking... I suppose their leisure is just grander than hours." He considered for a moment. "Surely we will have to perform for Phocion at some point, or for guests of his. I suppose having artists travel all the way from another continent to perform for him might be a feather in his cap. But that hardly seems more onerous than when I was playing for my supper..."

Finn held his glass out of the water while sinking his head below, then coming up face first so his wet hair would slick back over his skull. Blinking owlishly as he took a seat again.

"I wonder if we will be invited to stay in his palace in Solunarium proper..."

Their luxuries might be even more impressive, and while he didn't utter it aloud, he wondered how they might know when their welcome was wearing out. Nobles could be fickle, and he certainly didn't want to end up on the elf's bad side.

[Arvælyn]

"For at least the day!" Arry amended, playful but firm, as he settled into the water. It was warm, but not hot, in such a way that the temperature of the water felt indistinguishable from the temperature of the air without. It was an odd sensation descending into it- as if it took his flesh a moment to register that something was different at all.

He arched an eyebrow at the mention of Talon's bathing before Finn.

"You did not." He replied through his teeth, taking a deep breath in through his nose and averting his golden gaze toward his wine goblet. He reached for it and took a sip, working his way through his reflexive vexation. If Finn had dallied with another, at least it would have been with a royal demigod, rather than a fucking carpenter or whatever Torin considered himself. Draining half the wine in his glass, he adopted a smile before casting his gaze back to Finn and sidling closer.

"I have no idea..." Arry said of Finn's questions about Phocion. He'd tried to research their apparent host, but there simply wasn't much information available about contemporary Solunarium available in Kalzasi. It seemed as though the ream had been largely forgotten in its years of isolation. Those who were conscious of it at all, seemed to think it had done nothing of note in past millennium or so. That it's days of grandeur were long behind it. Sighing and dipping lower into the water until the back of his neck was wet, he smiled and decided that between the dragons and the pampering, there was grandeur enough left for him.

"Oh..." Arry blinked, and looked around as a realisation crossed his mind. "You came to it before I did, didn't you?" His eyes darted impishly to Finn as his cheeks flushed, "Phocion is a royal. His family villa bears the name of Aværys' youngest. He's a fucking descendent of the gods. Of course he is." Arry had to laugh at his own stupidity for taking so long to come to this realisation. "I'm a fucking moron." He muted his chuckles with another sip of wine, and shook his head.

"Yes. Formal dress for dinner, I should think."

[Finn]

"For at least the day," he agreed with a grin.

Although he heard the jangle of discord in Arry's symphony, he let him process it as he would. If there had been a dalliance, he would have been forthcoming about it, and if anything, Finn had been more uncomfortable in Talon's naked presence than in his clothed presence. It didn't take long, and for that, Finn was grateful. He had forsaken other beds for Arry's comfort and didn't regret that; he only wished it was enough to keep his golden lover's feathers unruffled.

He watched and listened as Arry put two and two together. It hadn't occurred to him that Arry hadn't known, but the minstrel did spend more time in the royal palace than the actor. Finn must have just heard it in passing, though. It certainly made sense the Solar Sovereign would send a royal ambassador. By all accounts, the royal lines weren't lacking in numbers. Though Finn felt no cleverer than Arry, he laughed along with him, putting his hands on him, his arms around him. Then he kissed him.

"Ah, but you're my fucking idiot, my solar sovereign..."

A little blasphemy in the bath never hurt anyone, right?

fin.