Just Say the Word [Finn]

[Arvælyn]

"Just Say the Word"

14 Searing, 121
The Ebonheart Inn, Kalzasi

Arvalyn fussed with his cravat in the looking glass, wrinkling his nose at the beautifully embroidered, albeit uncooperative, fabric. He finally elected to start over, which yielded a satisfactory result. He tucked it into his waistcoat and tugged at the hem, turning sidelong to make sure the fitted vest was hugging his slender form as it ought to. He remembered that Aurin had fastened the straps in the back the last time he'd worn this waistcoat, and it seemed his torso hadn't fluctuated since then, in spite of the rich meals he'd been enjoying of late. But, though the dishes were dense, Arry didn't overindulge as he used to. He'd only gone through a gluttonous phase when he was first introduced to the concept of regular meals, but the fascination waned after a week or so, and he'd reverted to being the type of person who regularly forgot meals and didn't overindulge when he remembered them.

Things were warm enough that he selected a lighter fabric for his third layer, which was a dark blue and black evening jacket with a subtle floral pattern that matched the cravat. He jogged down the steps from his storage-closet-cum-apartment to the main floor of the Velvet Cabaret, and slipped out into the alley. The uneven stone upon which he trod reminded him that the shoes he'd selected were still new and unworn, thus stiff and unyielding. But they looked so damned good, he didn't even consider going back in to change to a less painful pair.

He stepped up to Aurin's cottage and lifted his hand to knock, but his knuckle paused just short of the wood and his fist relaxed. He gently placed his bare palm against the wood and quietly sighed, wishing him a voiceless goodbye, before turning on his heel to strut to the street.

Realising he'd spent too long hemming and hawing over hemlines, Arry cursed to himself in Mythrasi and hailed a coach to make sure he was fashionably, rather than discourteously late. He arrived at The Ebonheart Inn just over ten minutes past the appointed hour, and a liveried valet opened the door for him and bowed- which suggested to Arvalyn that Finn had selected an agreeable venue for their pre-theatre meal.

As he was ushered inside, the young Hytori's eyes were drawn to the sparkling chandeliers dripping crystal and casting prismatic hues across the room. He bit his bottom lip and beamed as he was led toward the dining room, where he staggered a bit- nearly bumping into a pillar for his attention to the ceiling. Brought back to reality by his near-fumble, Arry cast his eyes to the tables before him where he found Finn, looking almost naked without his lute in hand. Arvalyn chuckled as he approached,

"I half expected you to have your lute seated next to you to chaperone our evening." He stepped round to give Finn a kiss on the cheek before claiming the seat the waiter had pulled out for him concurrently.

[Finn]

It had either been this place or the High Hopes, but ultimately he thought the man who had made himself into Arvalyn Val'Cithaeron would prefer the glitz and glamour here than the fine tavern. In any case, if the tavern impressed it would only be due to the fact that the Shinsei might be present and he was on friendly terms with Finn. All this was production value, but they were artists so they could enjoy that. It was probably better than trying to impress him because he knew somebody important.

His eyes were keen on the entrance, so he saw Arvine right away. He stood, awaiting his arrival, trying not to look too nervous. He looked rather fine in his new blue velvet doublet, the white of his shirt puffed out between the panels. It was shorter than he would have liked, but the tailor had said it was the fashion now, and so people who saw him might just get a flattering glance at his backside. His hair shone, curling where it ought to have been tidy, but no amount of his attention seemed to tame it properly. In any case, the doublet brought out his eyes and they sparkled with anticipation.

A callused hand came up to touch Arvine's shoulder when the slender elf moved in to kiss him blithely.

Finn sat when Arvine did. He might have been a country boy, but he had learned his manners. He slipped his napkin over his lap.

"He just would have stared and looked jealous all evening," he replied with a little laugh that tossed his hair. It needed a trim. "Anyway, I hope the place suits you. I know Arvalyn prefers the luxuries of his youth... but I'm hoping to get to know Arvine better, as well."

The waiter poured them both water and Finn's attention was all on his golden companion, so he didn't notice the bubbles until after he had taken a long sip and immediately belched. He squelched it—well, mostly.

"The water—"

"Sparkling water, sir," the waiter assured him urbanely. "Sourced from subterranean lakes in the Warrens where certain gasses affect the water much as fermentation does. Quite safe. Quite refreshing."

"It is like beer," he noted, then sipped more, carefully. He did not belch. "Thank you." His cheeks were pink with embarrassment, but the waiter was polite enough to set him at ease and his little eruption hadn't been noticed by anyone else, it appeared. "Sorry," he said to Arvine, though. Already making bad impressions.

"Would you like to order a drink?" the water asked. Finn looked to Arvine, indicating he should get whatever he wanted.

[Arvælyn]

"Oh I doubt that, Finn." Arvalyn replied with a good-natured chuckle, "You've never been able to keep your hands off him. I'd be the jealous one. I'm told I have that streak in me, after all." He said, with a bit of tension tightening his jaw as he glanced up to the waiter with a smile as the water was poured.

"Luxury suits me just fine," He said, returning his golden gaze to his date and leaving it at that. He might have elaborated on the commonalities and contrasts between his personae, but not in front of a strange server. So on that subject, he was uncharacteristically reticent.

"So, I-..." Arry's thought was interrupted by a half-squelched belch. He blinked, caught the eye of the server, then covered his mouth with his hand to shield a startled snigger from view. "I'm sorry." He shook his head, trying not to let the laughter get out of hand for fear of insulting Finn.

"Um, yes." He said, collecting himself with aplomb, "Perhaps you'd join me in a bottle of wine?" He held up one hand in a halting gesture, "Not sparkling wine," He assured with a playful grin, "Just a, um..." He glanced down at the menu, "Redolent Rose?" He consciously selected a wine that wasn't too dear on the coin purse. He had every intention of splitting the bill, but Finn was such a sweetheart he might have insisted upon paying and Arry didn't want to break his bank. He'd have fans buy him expensive things, soon enough. Tonight was about the company.

"If that's all right for you." He checked in with Finn, "You look like you might need something stronger... Would you prefer a cocktail?"

[Finn]

"S'all right," he mumbled. "You can laugh." The embarrassment was receding and while his performances were securely in the musical realm, there were times he played a bit of the clown for a laugh. His smile was a touch grateful, and grew to include the waiter, who Finn had assumed incorrectly might be a snob about things, but perhaps he was just another person trying to make a coin or three.

"Ahh... I wouldn't mind sharing the poetic wine with you to start. Or something sparkling. Now that I'm not taken unaware. Knowing is half the battle."

The waiter offered the name of what he promised was a similarly redolent rosé that was also naturally fizzy, but they left the decision up to Arry. That much taken care of, the waiter refilled Finn's glass with the sparkling mineral water and left them to their own devices. After Finn glanced around, he smiled at Arry. It was a touch awkward because it was new — the setting, the romantic interest — but it was quickly receding.

"I know I should set my sights higher," he mused, "especially after seeing you prove that hard work and talent can achieve goals, but I keep wondering how much I could make plucking out inoffensive melodies in the corner." He made a rueful face. "I haven't had to miss meals to make rent in years, and yet..." He smiled sadly, though the sadness leached away under Arry's golden gaze. "Sorry. My mind was running in circles before you got here. It's good to see you."

He reached across the table to rest his hand over Arry's.

"And I apologize ahead of time if I make more mistakes. Proper dates are new territory for me."

[Arvælyn]

"It's good to face your fears." Arry jested, "Sparkling wine it is." He nodded assent to the waiter's recommendation, and waited for him to depart their orbit, before returning his gaze to meet Finn's.

"See? Even in his absence, I cannot compete with the allure of Master Lute. You're already thinking about being alone in a corner with him, whilst I twiddle my thumbs at the bar..." He sucked his teeth and shook his head, in mock chagrin.

"It's good to see you, too." He grinned broadly. So much so, that he tipped his head down and cleared his throat as he consciously tamed the expression as not to look over-eager. He turned his palm up, so the tips of his soft fingers could caress the heel of Finn's hand.

"Well, it's new for me, too..." Arvalyn had catered to the fancies of others. Sometimes that looks like a date on the outside and from the perspective of the client, but it was never about what Arry wanted. This was. "And, um... Please, just call me Arry." He requested, gently.

"I detest my given name, and I know you want to acknowledge that I've doffed my social mask for you..." If not his manner-of-speech, it seemed, "but Arry sort of covers both sides of the coin. A very efficient nickname, I think." He bit his lip and glanced down to the place setting before him.

"So, um... Have you been to this venue before, or are you making a whole night of new experiences?" He raised his gaze to take in the full breadth of the room, now that he wasn't at risk of bumping into any more pillars in his distraction. "It really is beautifully appointed."

[Finn]

"Arry it is, then," he said gently, giving the hand held a squeeze. "I'm still just Finn one way or another. I have a friend who calls me Finny, but it's mostly a joke. A joke I hope doesn't catch on."

He gave a look of mock severity, but it didn't last.

"Oh, I... one of my instructors at the Academy is from a noble family. I said I was taking someone out of my league out for dinner and where I ought to go... And so here we are." Whether he believed Arry was out of his league or that was just the gambit played with someone far above his social class to get the information was open for debate. Finn's childhood had been easy enough; he hadn't gone hungry until he had come to the city, which seemed to be the opposite of what Arry had experienced from what little he knew. Country life had been simple but he hadn't wanted for anything.

"Would you like to see where I grew up sometime?" he asked, seemingly apropos of nothing. "I won't be offended if you say no. It would take most of a day to get out there and most of a day to get back, and it's just a simple village. Nothing fancy at all. But it's peaceful. It's on the lake. Perhaps someday when you need a break from all the hectic stress of your life as a star at the Golden Peacock?"

His teasing was gentle. Most things he did were, though sometimes his anger at the state of things came through in clever invective in his music. But that wasn't the sort of music he had worked on with Arry.

[Arvælyn]

"Arry and Finny? I must concur. We shan't allow that nickname to take hold, lest the world perforce root against our budding re-... Well, whatever this is." He said with a downward glance that only paused for a beat on the tablecloth, before rising as Finn spoke on.

"Oh, I'm not out of your league in the least, nor do I ever aspire to be. We shall rise together, you and I, in the esteem of all Kalzasi. Perhaps we'll even tour to other lands, taking our act on the road." Even though he'd granted Finn the privilege of knowing his real name, he hadn't dropped a lot of the façade he'd always worn. He was still speaking very grandly, and making delicate gestures with impeccable posture- dropping nary an H.

"I should love that, yes..." He blushed a bit, "I have a little fantasy about owning a country house one day. I've never spent much time in nature, you understand. The only time I ever spent time in the country was the road between Antiris and here. The way I left my hometown, I was looking over my shoulder for half the journey and half starved for the remainder. I couldn't really appreciate it, but... I'd love to have a cottage in the middle of nowhere. Not to live in all the time, but just to get away from the noise every now and again... Commune with nature like a proper Elf." He sniggered with self deprecation,

"Would we be able to stay there overnight? Are there inns there, or... Do you still have family? Would they be all right with... Well, I suppose I could pretend to be a colleague or something." He didn't imagine a nice, upstanding human family from the rural North would be overfond of their son taking an Hytori lover and parading him around their hamlet.

[Finn]

For a moment, his mind went entirely too far down a possible future and wondered whether Finn Venasyr would be a good name for a Bard of high standing in the artistic and social circles. He rather liked the sound of it in his mind's ear, but he colored a bit for even thinking of it. He sang too many love songs and needed to be more practical lest he put undue expectations on all this.

Listening intently, he ventured, "I wonder if some of Arry's adventures might make good songs. Flight from Antiris and such." But he smiled, enough humor in his eyes that Arry needn't worry he wanted to expose every detail of his life to public scrutiny. "I always figured the Hytori for the fine, grand elves. They ruled the world before any other people. All the other offshoots have come from tragedies and magical tinkering... Aren't the Dratori the elves closer to nature? Or the Fae'ethalan?" He was careful of the pronunciation of that one. Lyra had been feeding him bits of Vallenor, after all. It did help with pronouncing all the daughter languages of the elves even if he didn't know what he was singing.

"Well, the village has a couple of hundred people so not quite as remote as you would like, but certainly on the way to more wide-open spaces. And my family would happily let Master Venasyr stay with them. They might not know quite how to speak to Lord Arvalyn, though." He smiled, wondering how the pretty elf would code-switch in the hamlet that had borne him. "My mother is a smith. My father kept the house and raised my younger sisters and me. Prosaic, I suppose you would call it. But they were surprisingly good with my decision to move to the city and sing for my supper. When it became clear it was what I truly wanted, they just started pushing me to practice all the time. If I was going to labor with my lute instead of at the forge, I was going to know what I was doing and have the proper work ethic to succeed."

His smile was appreciative. He wouldn't have gotten nearly as far without their acceptance and support, even if they only gave it as best they knew how.

[Arvælyn]

"I don't doubt 'The Comedie of Arvine' and his many follies would send a crowd into hysterics, but it's hardly a role I'd care to spend anymore time inhabiting, so I'll leave it to the jesters and strive for higher art." Arry sounded a bit brusque in so saying, though the slight snarl softened as he affirmed: "I'm sorry. I'm not cross with you, I just... Haven't spoken much about my past. There's only one other person whose ever heard about it, and I'm not even overly fond of broaching it with him. It truly feels like another life, or like... something from a dream half forgotten, now. Everyone I knew is dead or a stranger to me now. Kalzasi is my home." He glanced up, clearing his throat as the waiter returned and poured their wine. He watched the pink liquid pour forth and sparkle as it rose up the length of the flute. Finn spoke on, but Arry waited for him to leave before contributing further to the discourse.

"I think all elves have a bond with nature... The Hytori may have been the first to build cities, but those cities were infused with the essence of life. There are gardens here, but you have to look for them. I'm told in Sol'Valen the cities themselves are vasty gardens replete with verdure..." He trailed off, "I don't think I feel the call of such things as keenly as I ought to, but... Well, our time on the rooftop is a bit of a blur so I'm not sure if I mentioned this, but..." He lowered his voice and leaned forward, "I'm actually half human." He smiled faintly at Finn's description of his hometown.

"You family sounds as lovely as your village." He offered, "And I should like to meet them, if they wouldn't be too scandalised. If they're open-minded enough to support your busking, perhaps I have a shadow of a chance of being liked."

[Finn]

After the wine arrived, the waiter promised to return soon to take their orders when it was clear they didn't know what they wanted.

"First," Finn said, raising his flute, "a toast to our successful collaboration and... more to come."

He sipped, thought it quite fine, and then dove into his response.

"I want to know as much as you want to tell me," he said gently. "More, truly, though only because I want to know more about the man behind Arvalyn, but not at the expense of your good humor. They say such burdens are easier borne together, but... Well, I know we know each other rather well now in certain capacities. I'm interested, is all I'm saying. I won't push.

"And whatever your lineage, you're beautiful. It doesn't matter to me... I mean, it matters in that it's a part of who you are, but I'm not some Zaichaeri racial purist or something. Neither are my parents, though most of their friends and neighbors are humans." He shrugged, not truly knowing how the population had developed, only his experience of it. "I think they'll like you. I'll warn them off asking about your family so that doesn't get awkward, but they will mostly care about the normal things — do you treat me well, do we work well together — they think in terms of who will be best for me to build a life and a family with. Not that... I mean, if things progress that far, not that they would demand we move next door and start rearing a brood of children or anything. They just want me to have a partner in life. Someone who is on my team. I think they'll defer to my judgment for the most part. So as long as Arvalyn doesn't get high and mighty and turn up his nose at the peasants."

But he was smiling at that, not truly worried that Arry would look down on his simple upbringing.