The Perfect View

[Rhydian ValKor]

"The Perfect View"
1 Searing 124
Silfanore

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It suited Rhydian's peculiarities to return to court on the first day of a season. There was a comfort in having left on the first of Glade and to return on the first of Searing. It felt like a sort of symmetry to Rhydian's reckoning and, though the trip had been far too long for his comfort, the inconveniences and confoundments felt like distant memories now that he was back in the familiar environs of home. He would need to return to Aerion soon to check in with his family, but His Majesty took priority in all things and so his first stop now that he was back in Sol'Valen was the palace.

The household staff was prepared to receive him and to see his personal effects unpacked and stowed in their rightful places. He was no guest at the palace, so he needn't wait in some sitting room decorated with artefacts from remote antiquity. He was able to wait in his own sitting room with his own artefacts from remote antiquity until such time as the king was ready to receive him. He liked to think he didn't have to wait so long as a foreign dignitary or a provincial official. Surely Ailuin was eager to see him in the flesh, though they'd met upon the concourse of dreams throughout Rhydian's time abroad.

By the time he was received, Rhydian had doffed his travelling clothes in favour of flowing robes. He'd bathed and had accelerated the drying of his crimson hair via the Craft of Kinetics. After that, he lounged and read until he was called upon, at which point he leapt up and walked apace. Those who knew him might note a slight bounce to his gait and his mild expression was worn with slighly wider eyes, bespeaking the excitement brimming beneath the placid lake of Rhydian's features.

[Hekatos]

When the time came, Rhydian was ushered into the royal presence. The dream king was sitting at a mundane enough desk, fine but hardly the stuff of Nod. He looked up and Rhydian, at least, saw green eyes flare with naked need before the fires were banked. If Rhydian was placid like still waters running deep, he had likely learned the trick from this elf in particular, who often gave the impression that a person's waking and dreaming lives were open books to him, whatever the truth of his oneiromancy and other arcane accomplishments.

Everything necessary for a formal tea ceremony sat on a low table by the south-facing window that stole light from the harbor of Limánia far below and around the mountains. They had phosphomancers in the royal employ as well. The Val'Kor princes put on a show, of course, but Ailuin was a special sort of showman, who didn't even seem to be putting forth any effort at all. The servant bowed to prince and Prince, and bowed herself out.

Ailuin rose from his work and moved to meet Rhydian somewhere in the middle of the room, managing to move quickly without seeming to. He took his young blade up in proprietary hands, and kissed him deeply. There were things they could accomplish in dreams, and he was a master dreamweaver, but he never lied to Rhydian; when they dreamed, they dreamed. Knowing the warmth of his mouth was a real, physical thing, added something to the claiming, and Ailuin's hands bunched up in Rhydian's clothes. Perhaps he would claim the rest of him here first, but no, eventually, he let Rhydian up for air, calm when he should rightly have been gasping for it himself.

"Tea," he said, with his strange certainty, and led Rhydian toward the window. His former cupbearer would serve him, of course, even though it was him inviting. Ailuin knelt beside the window, tucking a brocaded pillow betwixt his ankles and settling down to kneel. "And report. And entice me to open a portal to Eilranoikos before my day's work is complete, for my body craves a reacquaintance with yours."

[Rhydian ValKor]

Despite of the intimate audience, Rhydian bowed with all due formality owed by one of his station to one of Ailuin's anointed state. Gentle eyes were lowered in respect of the king's office and his cherished person. He felt the servant brush by and heard her steps recede, as Ailuin's silent steps drew the monarch ever closer.

His breath caught- not quite a gasp as Ailuin's mouth truncated it before it was fully realised, and Rhydian's weight shifted to one foot as he swooned into the kiss from the king. Here, in the tactile clarity of the waking world, he lingered in this semblance of a dream for as long as his liege allowed. When their lips parted, the prince was flush-faced and uncharacteristically unbalanced as he quickly nodded and moved to the tea tray.

"Your Majesty." He acknowledged the monosyllabic command as he fell easily into his former role, in which they became acquainted, and served Ailuin. He smile faintly as the king spoke, though his hand quivered a bit clinking the cup against its saucer a bit awkwardly as he placed it down in front of the sovereign of Sol'Valen as he spoke coveted words of desire to be sated in the near future.

"Of course, Majesty... I mostly maintained the outlined itinerary, though I lingered longer in Zaichaer than initially intended upon finding their hospitality more gracious than anticipated. I made up that time in transit, but regardless my trip, of course, began in Kalzasi where I was able to connect with Lord Val'Istra.

"He spoke of the hardships still being faced by Kalzasi as a result of the Eclipse, but his personal enclave- shared with a neighbour with whom he seemed rather taken- was well warded and rather like a piece of Sol'Valen transported abroad. Much of the focus of his report centred around tensions with Zaichaer and the potential for foreign elements to exploit their post-apocalyptic, to borrow the Kathar term, 'Zeitgeist'."

[Hekatos]

The ghost of a satisfied smile met Rhydian's brief imbalance, and soon enough they were kneeling at the low table, air redolent of forest and sea breezing in through the window. Being in the king's presence, with his undivided attention, was much like holding a staring contest with a cat. Perhaps some of those who called him wise and discerning were flattering, but not all. Whatever strange insights he might have, he kept to himself.

Highlights were fine for now; he assumed there would be in-depth journals appended to a more official report. Rhydian hadn't been given many details to go on, and so it would fall upon Ailuin to find patterns in the information. He could only hope that his deadly nightshade had been as thorough a spy as he was a lover. Anything worth doing, he had tried to impress upon the young elf, was worth doing correctly.

Ailuin sipped his tea appreciatively.

"Laurevere Val'Istra crossed the Aurisian border into Vallanar today," he noted quietly. "Along with a Sivan Len'Myren, and a human mage-smith. The former his neighbor, I should think. The latter his, hm, business partner." Whether that was suspect or merely interesting was unknown. "Were your observations of Zaichaer congruent with his report?"

[Rhydian ValKor]

"Correct." Rhydian smiled, impressed if not surprised that Ailuin already knew the name of the neighbour. "Sivan is, as 'twas explained to me, the son of Val'Istra's comrade, but their kinship seemed quite close and their lives intertwined. He painted an intriguing picture of a youth who left your demesne as apprentice to Tavári'nar Val'Gwairil during his twilight days. After that, he was taken under the tutelage of a Master Jacun in Kalzasi... a dragon, as it turned out. I met Sivan and found him rather unassuming, despite of the lofty interest he has incurred wherever he treads...

"While I found him to be a thoughtful host and a mage of some potential, I will freely admit that I do not know what made him remarkable in the eyes of his pedagogues. I lack their years and areas of focus, but I do believe it worth remarking upon that it seems to follow him." He paused to sip his tea,

"As to the matter of Zaichaer, all in all, yes. My comprehension of the High City brought low was flawed before visiting. Much has been made of their xenophobia and, particularly, their rhabdophobia, but it is a land of contradictions. Despite their apparent fear and disapproval of magic, one of their most powerful figures is a mage and bore the features of a half-elf, albeit with surgical alterations to the telltale ears.

"Laurevere spoke of concern about commonalities with the Atraxian apostates, which seemed absurd, at first... Solunarium seems like the very bogeyman they see in Kalzasi, after all. However, having visited Zaichaer I now see the cause of his concern. Their ethics are, and perhaps always have been, deeply compromised. They exploit too much of what they claim to hate and give it a pass when it serves them.

"With their palpable human supremacist bent, it would be difficult to envision an outright public alliance with the Atraxians, but they are now openly integrating the witch covens, which would have been unthinkable before the Breach. I think they are a land in flux, ripe for exploitation in the midst of their restoration, and we should keep a watchful eye on their progress."

[Hekatos]

"Fain would I welcome home a prodigal son, whether or not he had attracted the interest of a maker of such renown as Tavári'nar Val'Gwairil and a dragon. Perhaps I ought to meet these elves myself to see whether I might suss out what makes them so special." But he hardly seemed to be in a hurry; such was the way of elves who had seen decades pass and lesser races wither. If both Val'Istra and Len'Myren were within the borders of his principality, let alone his capital, then time was his ally, as were all things.

"Fascinating," he remarked upon the juxtapositions and paradoxes of New Zaichaer. Fascinating like butterflies pinned to an etymologist's cork board. "Perhaps I ought to send a more permanent envoy to show them the error of friendship with the apostates. Their laughable self-aggrandizement might be written off as the self-importance of children, I suppose, but if they are weaponizing their former scapegoats, well, indeed, you are correct: they are in a state of flux. It is incumbent upon us to give them good counsel, even if it must be couched in diplomatic pressures."

A smile spread slowly across his regal features.

"You have done well, pet," he said, reaching across the low table to touch Rhydian on the knee, his fingers tightening for a mere moment, enough to remind him of more possessive grips. "I suppose you ought to take a portal to visit your family ere the week is out, but tarry not long lest I have you chained to my bed for a year and a day. I am not a masochist and your absences pain me."

Rhydian would not be his ambassador to the High City, though he would be involved in preparing said luminary when the time came. Things often moved slowly in Sol'Valen, as if the elves still believed they had all the time in the world. On the contrary, they were painfully aware of the millennia denied them, but outsiders couldn't understand the particular, exquisite tortures of being one of the First Children.

[Rhydian ValKor]

"Of course, my liege..." Rhydian lowered his head, as if accepting chastisement for applying unneeded qualifiers to his description of Sivan. Chastisement was, indeed, what it felt like and it brought greater flush to his cheeks than did the tea and company.

"I would be glad to make the introductions, if it please Your Majesty." As to the matter of Zaichaer, Rhydian nodded.

"They could certainly benefit from our guidance and, failing that, we could benefit from surveilling them more closely. Laurevere seemed to imply a Solunarian influence might already be present influencing the realm. They've been isolated... or at least ostensibly so, for so long prior to recent years, that I've no idea what such an incursion would look like, but again I defer to those of greater years with sharper focus upon such matters as these." Rhydian had not often been placed in the role of a diplomat and, having been raised a Val'Kor, he doubted his acumen in the art. He was often self-deprecating in Ailuin's presence, but today more than usual, between the unpractised role and the time away.

Still, he was met with encouragement and his tense shoulders relaxed down as his eyes danced up, smiling though his lips were parted more in an expression of surprise at Ailuin's aggressive flirtation.

"I would brook those fetters happily, if it please Your Majesty, but of course you are correct. I shall take my leave of court on the morrow to grace Aerion, but briefly. If mine absence pricks at thee it is, for me, a torment for I am but a moon and you, a galaxy.... my boundless empire."

[Hekatos]

Ailuin had long ago given up on protecting Rhydian's feelings from imagined slights. His encouragement, at least, seemed a balm. Rhydian was, perhaps, too enamored of his sovereign. Of course, that could hardly be a bad thing, especially if he succeeded Archiroë. In the long, storied history of the elves, there had been military coups. It were better war be conquered by love, better to assuage the ever-present threat of civil war. There would be generations yet before the memories of his people forgot how his father had led them out of clockwork bondage and through the Age of Sundering, sacrificing himself to cure the Withering Sickness that had corrupted even the First Children who were otherwise protected by Raella's grace. Eventually, another prince might ascend above Sol'Eilran, but not during his reign.

The king nodded.

"Then when you have returned from your mother's court and I let you once more out of my sight, I will have you bring Val'Istra and his friends to me. By then, they ought to be settled."

The human mage-smith's visa was good for the season, so it was entirely possible the elves with whom he had come also planned to abide through the heat of summer.

As for Zaichaer, he nodded thoughtfully. Rhydian's part with regard to that particular foreign affair was complete for now, and there was no need to belabor the topic when it might sour the sweet sight of him. He stared at Rhydian over the rim of his tea cup, his faint smile obscured. The love of such a beautiful creature was certainly a balm for the king.

[Rhydian ValKor]

His brow lifted, pleasantly surprised by the priorities espoused.

“Very well.” Rhydian inclined his head in acknowledgement of the task to come. He would be pleased to execute it. Laurevere intrigued him and Laurevere’s investment in Sivan made the younger elf intriguing as well. Not just Laurevere’s investment, of course, but the interest of several notable figures. Perhaps he saw kinship with Sivan in this, for he understood Ailuin’s investment in him with no greater authority.

As only silence answered his elaboration upon the Zaichaeri matter and Ailuin’s expression shifted markedly, he inferred that the time for formal briefings had come to its cessation, at least for the moment.

A small smile demanded itself into curling his lips as his eyes danced down to the waning tea in his cup. He brought it to his lips for the coup de grace and reached for the pot.

“Would you care for another cup?” His hand hovered above the handle without closing around it. It didn’t take a dreamwalker to know where Rhydian’s fantasies were heading in the span of that hesitation. They had loved in the dreamscape lately, where things were more extreme, but also more ephemeral. It felt real… more than real in the moment, but once it passed one realised what it lacked. It was difficult to describe like all dreams and to attempt a description was bootless, if not vexing to the listener. And there was no need to speak on such things with this king, and so silence and offered tea would serve to display that he was ready and willing to serve his liege in more ways than tea service.

[Hekatos]

King and prince were, it appeared, of the same mind. He rose, and held out his hand, knowing Rhydian would be quick to place his there. There was a darkling fire in his eyes, green as poison, and he claimed Rhydian's mouth for several minutes until breathing became of paramount importance. As he led his sweet prince toward a certain arch, a portal opened automatically from the royal palace to Eilranoikos, and he hoped his boy had eaten because there would be no time for that before he took what was his.

fin.

!	Message from: Hekatos
	As it looks like Rhydian is about to be devoured by his sovereign, we can fade to black here and you can collect 15 xp for your character sheet.