Legend of Ransera

Torin's home was one of Aurin's safe places. The hidden basement was more secure, of course, but they had worked together for years now to make this house a home and to keep those who laid their heads there safe: Torin, Timon, Huntress, Sivan, the Whispers, and, of course, Aurin. As such, he was often practically narcoleptic after a long day and sex, but he rarely slept deeply or soundly—there were old nightmares and old habits of staying alive and even in a safe place, those didn't disappear entirely.

His response was a grunt and the faint glitter of barely open eyes, but he was paying attention. Most of his face was buried in pillow as he lay on his belly, and the arm thrown over Torin's belly tightened, pulling them closer, though their bodies were already flush.

Aurin lifted his head enough to speak, "Wha'd'ya wanna talk 'bout?"

Well, he mumbled, but it was understandable, and then his face fell back into the pillow. But Torin knew when the man was asleep, both by the rhythms of his body and the resonance of his aura. When there was nothing keeping him awake, he would sleep. With business to attend to, he would not. But here he could be attentive without coming to a full alert. He needn't reach for one of the blades under the pillow, nor between the mattress and the frame, nor weave wards or glamours or disappear into one of his hiding places in the blink of an eye. He remained present for Torin.

He could even sense around the edges of what was coming. Torin didn't hide things from him, and now it was on the surface of his thoughts and the tip of his tongue. Magic. Danger. Fear. Determination. Need. His elbow keeping them close, the free hand came up to cup Torin's cheek, to offer comfort, to inspire courage.

Hazel eyes gave away little save attentiveness; though tired, he tracked each tic of Torin's facial muscles, each modulation of his voice, even as he sensed his boy through and through. But if he had an ingrained poker face, he wasn't hiding his aura from his lover. There had been a flicker of knee-jerk alarm followed by his iron will asserting itself over himself, forcing himself to calm and stillness, separating his feelings from his critical mind. Some might have been impressed; it was a survival instinct now. Fear could be a friend or a foe. Aurin had long ago embraced it.

He tracked the change from worry to wonder, and he knew the decision was already made. Though he could say no and Torin would accept that, though he could demand a sacrifice of potential for his own shiny happy feelings and Torin would take some pleasure in acceding to his wishes, he knew he would be stifling his boy, and he had promised to show him the world, teach him how it worked. Forbidding him the tools to fully inhabit his genius would not be a healthy or a helpful use of the dominion he held over him.

And so, when Torin's words finally ran out and all that was left was curiosity and hope, Aurin answered. He shifted so Torin's massaging fingers fell to his flank, and he let his own hand move down to cup Torin's sex in a possessive, protective manner. His other hand slipped between his cheek and his pillow, face ruddy from rubbing.

"All right," he said. "I'll allow it if she'll initiate you. But I want you to set things up so Sivan and Timon can run the forge while you recuperate at the Pavilion under her care. And I want Timon, Sivan, and I to be able to visit you and make sure you're recovering properly. Maybe Siv can..." he made a vague, mystical gesture with his hand, "persuade his elemental fairies to ease you through it. And I don't want you out of her sphere of influence until she has trained you enough that you aren't a danger to yourself. And I want her to keep training you without break until you hit that point where you're no longer an apprentice, you know? When you're ready to go your own way. And I want you to be so fucking careful because if something happens to you, I'll..."

He squeezed Torin's sex. It might have been a touch painful, but it was an instinctive claiming, not punishment.

"I know she won't fuck you up like I did. But I need to know that you and she are taking all the precautions, all right?"

"Aye, have Kaus on hand as well..." The more the merrier, at least how he understood it. After Arry, then Torin, he had been gunshy when it came to initiating anyone in magic. Perhaps he would speak to Valencia in the future and ask her the best way to mitigate risk. She would know for Traversion, at least. Perhaps other contacts could offer him some solutions or at least best practices for his other tricks.

Aurin snorted at the sally about Timon and Kaus. All he knew was that if Kaus hurt Timon, his title wouldn't protect him. But Kaus seemed an honorable fellow, the way noblemen were purported to be, though rarely were. Privilege and power were corrupting for most. He was glad Torin seemed to have found the exceptions to the rule.

"Well, she's the expert, not me. But I suppose she could ramp you back up... start making viscerite at first, and then work your way up to more complex things as you pass... I don't know, whatever milestones she has in her magic books. And if you can't practice, you can read her magic books. I've seen things in the Pavilion, grimoires or what have you. I'm certain you won't be without magical... studies."

After Torin's attempt to sweeten the pot with kisses found a lull, he continued, "I'll check in with Kala. With Kaus and with Sivan, as well. Check in on your progress. Make sure you are following the rules." Nevermind Aurin scoffed at rules when he wasn't actively thumbing his nose at them, breaking them, and laughing at them. Torin was a rule-follower, and that would keep him safe. That was his way, and he ought to stick to it. In any case, it made sense in his head.

"I'm going to ask around... learn what I did wrong. So if we ever decide you need one of my tricks, I can... ease you into it better. Or... I don't know. Kala can teach you warding. Siv can teach you summoning. Kaus can teach you kinetics, or reaving, though I don't think you ought to need that one. Not now that war isn't imminent. I just want you to have all the tools you need to become the greatest runeforger in the land. Don't you worry about the rest... I'll know when danger's coming, and I'll protect you if it seeks you out." He laughed, a bit forced, trying to persuade himself that he wasn't scared of losing Torin to Fire or Water or Earth. "I'm a patron of the magical arts, eh? Making it so you can create unfettered..." He had clearly borrowed som verbiage from Elric.

Aurin certainly did use his sembling trick to keep an eye on Torin from wherever he was. He now realized that if he was clumsier with it, or just made Torin aware of his presence, he would enjoy that. There was the strange thing he had noticed with his runes as well - the connection they gave to the people who had initiated him or been initiated by him. But he would ensure Torin felt his gaze going forward.

His own tricks still felt like tools in his kit, or cards in his hand, though the longer he held them, the more they felt like an extension of his hands, his will. He wasn't sure whether he ought to be envious of how Torin felt about magic, but certainly having opened his soul to his innate abilities felt intimate in an exciting way.

The elder man nodded slowly, the hand pillowing his face reaching out to close on the nape of Torin's neck. His burly boy got knotted sometimes, whether from his work or the worrying of his mind. He was rather rough with working it out, though his hand down below was merely firm.

"You're a good boy," he reminded him. "You've proven yourself responsible, and you will have what you need." He kneaded.

Aurin was still intrigued by the idea of an orchard of magical fruit. He would certainly try those tricks he didn't own, the better to see if they were worth investigating further. He wondered, too, if they might augment what he already owned, whether he might get a boost to his tricks after a little snack.