Will Your Shoulders Hold?

[Aeros]

TIMESTAMP: 46 Frost 122
NOTES: -

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When Æros had heard the initial inquiries from Hilana about ‘borrowing’ either Khyan or himself for some expedition out into Ecith, he met such things with trepidation. Incipiently, he wanted to have gone along himself, but such an excursion did not align with his schedule. So with some reluctance, he did agree to allow Khyan to serve as Sembler, having been assured that the goal was information gathering, not anything particularly pernicious…and yet, the starry senator found himself incredibly worried in the days leading up to the boy’s departure. He’d even brought it up to Arvælyn when the two had met the day of.

Though his draconic companion had made the decent point that wallowing in worry would serve them no benefit, it would turn out that Æros’ concerns were not ill founded. While the boy was not gone for long, it took consistent effort for Æros to keep his anxieties at bay as he went about his business on the day of and for part of the day after. But then, at the conclusion of a meeting, a servus approached him with news that Khyan and the others had returned. His relief, however, was brief; for when he asked why it wasn’t Khyan himself that had come to greet him, he was given the news that the boy was currently infirm in a medical ward.

Æros’ immediate reaction was anger, something righteous, for he’d known from the start that this was a poor idea…but he quelled it. The servus that had delivered this message ought not be shot for doing so. Instead, when he opened his mouth to respond, his affect was rather flat, asking, rather, demanding the ability to see his lover– though in more guarded terms. The servus, who had been nervous about the Dominus’ response, smiled weakly and indicated that yes, that was an option, before giving the now rather vexed Fæ instructions of where exactly he could find Khyan.

It was of some small comfort to know that the boy was being cared for by those that were employed directly in the services of the Sentinels, at least. In their care, grievous bodily harm or no, it was unlikely that he’d perish. And yet, though he knew this, his heart sank, leadened, when he finally did arrive in the room where Khyan laid resting. Khyan’s Symphony was subdued, and though this was because he was medicated and out of sorts, the muddled notes did little more than spike Æros’ own anxieties further.

Æros was quick to close the distance between himself and his lover, though he balked when it came to reaching out to touch the other. He wanted to, he almost did, but he caught himself, realizing he was wholly unaware of exactly to what degree– and where– that Khyan was injured. The last thing he wanted to do was exacerbate anything.

Though he could tell from his partner’s rather sluggish Symphony that his cognition was not all there, he nonetheless asked, “...what happened? Will you recover?” His voice woven rather tightly with the coils of his concern.

And in the same breath as he spoke, his eyes shifted, the limbal rings of his Semblance visible now as he looked over his partner’s body. Given the skill of the chirurgeons involved, what remained of the boy’s injury indicated something that was, initially, incredibly alarming; Khyan had been impaled, and from what he could see, quite a bit of flesh had to be sewn back together to fix him.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

Upon inquiring after his amatus'/servus' location, perhaps Æros would be surprised to discover that Khyan had been moved from a Vigilia Argentum infirmary to a guest room in the royal residences at the Palatium Umbrarum. The courier who delivered the news was not party to the wherefore, but was able to offer the senator a writ marked with the seal of the Umbrian Princeps Coronam.

He would be admitted into the palace promptly by the guards, and attended by a servant who would lead him up to the royal apartments and through to a stately bedchamber. Khyan would be found reclining, covered to the waist by silken sheets and thick blankets. His torso was bare, but for the bandages (treated to ward off infection) that covered his large, but magically mitigated wound. There were no signs of blood seeping into the gauze, but a Sembler's eye would see that the healing process had only just begun, in spite of the superficial remedies that had been employed to stop the bleeding, close the wound and prevent scarring. There was still a lot of torn viscera underneath.

His Symphony was tranquil, all things considered- clearly having been manipulated toward serenity by a potent practitioner of Mesmer. Even outside the presence of that influence, he felt calmed as if confident that everything was going to turn out to the good. The present surroundings certainly seemed to reinforce that notion.

"Æros?" He lifted his head weakly, turning it to the side and letting it fall against the pillow propping him up slightly.

"There are fell things in Ecith, where... The light of the Sceptre doesn't reach. A few of them sneaked up on us... Used our own shadows for portals, so there was no time to act until they claimed the upper hand." As he said the word hand, it was as if he remembered he had one and reached it out toward Æros.

"I am glad you're here. Isn't it lovely? Finn insisted I be brought to recover here, and His Exalted Highness allowed it. He's such a nice lad..." Khyan patted the mattress beside him. The bed was huge and he was not, so there was plenty of space to share.

[Aeros]

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The efficiency with which the chirurgeons worked would’ve been surprising in nearly any other context. For a patient of Khyan’s injuries to have been moved off-site and out of a proper medical ward as early as he had been would’ve been mighty precarious under standard circumstances, but…consummate care did make sense to allow for such a thing, he supposed. Walking through the halls of Palatium Umbrarum in this context was also patently strange, though such strangeness was one of the last things on the senator’s mind at the moment, rushed as he was.

And laid up as he was, Khyan seemed so…fragile. As much as he wanted to straight away, Æros would take a moment to look over the boy before touching him. His torso had been ravaged and then meticulously repaired; delicacy would be required, but Khyan was stable and in the early stages of healing.

The Fæ’s hesitancy persisted for a few moments as the other offered what answers he could to his question, mind running rapidly as he took in the boy’s explanation. But when Khyan reached out to him, Æros took his hand as if instinctually, then at what was, ostensibly, an invitation, he moved to lay beside him. Of course, Æros was careful to mind his lover’s wounds, but he did adjust to pull the boy into his arms, as much as he could in such a way that was comfortable for them both.

It was a sweet sort of relief to hold his lover again, because while they had not been apart for some horrendously long time, Khyan had nearly died. Before he said anything, Æros kissed the boy’s forehead, and then his nose, then his cheek, then his lips, lingering there for a moment before pulling away.

“Full glad am I that you’re alive, at least…I’ve heard horrific tales of what those fiendish things can do. I…wish I could’ve been there…made a difference in some way.” His words were laced with conflicting emotions; immense guilt, a tinge of regret, and adoration for his partner.

“...and yes, the hospitality is lovely; I’m a bit surprised, but I’m glad they’ve opted to give you this comfort. Finn is…very sweet, almost to a fault, but I won’t question it here,” he spoke with a bit of a laugh.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

"You'll forgive my vagaries, I hope... I was not conscious for most of what transpired, so my telling has been pieced together from hearsay and, well... I was not altogether present for much of the narrative." Between the magical and alchemical balms, he'd been in and out of coherency for much of the surgery.

"I'm told Aværys popped by for a trice, but I wasn't conscious for that bit..." Khyan offered plaintively, though whatever disappointment he bore seemed muted as it was articulated through the slight slur in his speech at present.

"With better fortune I might have been able to compare notes with you after your encounter with Him at the arena. Pity. I was in the presence of the Deus Imperator and all I got was this lousy impalement." He chuckled wearily, but winced at the pain the motion yielded. Clenching his teeth he settled back to stillness.

The servus smiled at the peppering of kisses and looked up with lazy eyes.

"I'm glad you weren't there. These were much faster than what we dealt with in the caves... Much more focused more insidious. Such as things are, we all survived. We're all on the mend and with the wonders of Solunarian medicine, we'll emerge better than when we set off." He snaked an arm around the other's waist and let his head tip against him, nestling there.

"It's rather refreshing, after a fashion..." Khyan said of Finn's decidedly un-Solunarian warmth. Desert heat was cruel, but he supposed the North was a milder place that made for milder folk. "Anyway, what did you get into whilst I was abroad? How did that senatorial banquet go? Were you able to make any inroads with the new magnati of the Umbrium?"

[Aeros]

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In some ways, it was a relief to hear that Khyan’s injury caused a nearly immediate loss of consciousness; such a thing meant that the boy was not awake and aware to suffer from it much. That being said, Æros being a very nosy man, it was also somewhat disappointing, because Khyan having no memory of the latter portion of events meant that he’d have to try and pry that information from somebody else…though he doubted that would be hard, what with the way he could leverage the guilt he assumed Hilana ought to have.

“Do you mind if I look, regardless…? I am curious to see through your eyes what happened.” He ought at least ask, however.

Æros’ interest was further piqued at the mention of Aværys making an appearance. At Khyan’s jest, Æros grimaced, though he did chuckle a bit. What a shame that Khyan’s consciousness had slipped prior to the Deus’ arrival.

“A pity, indeed…I didn’t get anything myself when I saw him, but I would say that is certainly a step up from an impalement, for sure.” Brushes with the divine were ever so precarious, weren’t they?

Looking down as the boy spoke, Æros found himself only half listening, briefly distracted by his lover’s sweet face, the way his features shifted when he talked– ever so enamored with him, he was.

Realizing Khyan had finished his sentiment, Æros blinked, his mind taking an extra second to process what had been said. “I’d like to think my skills have improved since then…” he said, still a bit embarrassed by how that one went.

But to that, his skills had improved since then in several ways; he’d honed focus, both ætheric and otherwise, perception, swordsmanship, and so on. After their first trip out, he had realized that his skills of self preservation were lacking far more than he would’ve liked and had worked ever so diligently to remedy this.

“...but I am glad to hear all is overall well, that…really is a relief,” and such a sentiment was palpable in his voice. And with that, his hand tightened ‘round the boy’s outer shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze, pulling him just a bit closer.

Regarding Finn, “...it is. A break from how…callous, some can be is nice.” Contrast to the Solunarium norm was welcome from time to time.

Khyan’s brief deluge of questions gave the starry senator pause for a moment as he thought. “Aside from that, I didn’t do much, but I did find that meeting both enjoyable and enlightening, aye. Many of those who also made the advance decision to side with the draconic dynasty appear to be of similar mind to me…which is nice.”

He paused for a moment, debating his phrasing, “...and perhaps not so surprisingly, so too is the draconic princeps himself. Convenient, no? Before, I would’ve been fighting a losing war against the Sanguinists, but not now…I don’t know necessarily what the crown himself thinks, for he was rather deliberately tight-lipped, but I imagine it can’t be that far off, either.” Æros sounded a combination of both hopeful and pleased.

He’d learned quite a bit more that he would’ve loved to share, but he’d promised Arvælyn he would not. If a day came where such knowledge need not be kept so clandestine, he would, but alas, not now.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

“Sweet of you to ask…” Khyan mused aloud, “But it is not my place to decline, even if I wished to.” The former Patrician may not have been thrilled with his current lot in life, but he was content. The lowliest station in Solunarium was preferable to the loftiest in lesser realms.

Khyan would lay back, shut his eyes and clear his mind to ease Æros’ incursion into his memories. He have access to the recollection of setting off on wyvern-back for the first time in many months. The thrill that swept through Khyan was unlike anything Æros had felt in him before. They ascended high, Khyan grinned over his shoulder to look down at the Luxium from on high. He glanced to Hilana as she donned a mask, muttered something unintelligible, and then it all went black. Rising again as if no time had passed in a mysterious glowing glade under a darkened sky beyond the grace of the Sceptre’s light.

Æros would feel Khyan’s overwhelming awe and reverence as Finn emitted a radiant glow from a mark that rounded his brow like a luminous crown. Shaking himself out of his stupour, he shifted his gaze skyward where he saw the traces of a powerful ætheric pattern that seemed to arc toward the southeast. He parted his lips to speak and then he felt stricken with pain as everything suddenly went back.

When he woke again, the word ‘Celatium!’ tumbled from his lips before he faded back into unconsciousness. What more there was merely validates what Khyan had already stated verbally.

Khyan opened his eyes and smiled softly at Æros’ defensiveness,

“Soft, amatus… Skills are well and good when you’ve the time to employ them. This attack was clinical. I do not doubt your formidable abilities, I am only pleased that you didn’t put your precious life at unnecessary risk. The Umbrium can afford to lose a slave more than a senator.”

He watched and listened as Æros spoke of his exploits.

“That all sounds very favourable!” His eyes were drooping in spite of his enthusiastic response and it wouldn’t be long before he lost the battle to remain awake.

Over a week later, Khyan’s wound was coming along nicely. What might have taken months or natural healing, transpired in a matter of days. The mortal gash might have been mistake for a flesh-wound and his complexion had never looked smoother since Æros had known him. Even the scars Æros’ teeth left upon the meat of his thigh were erased.

In the intervening time between Khyan’s return and now, Æros had access to this bedchamber day or night. If he deemed it wise, he might have slept there every night, or perhaps he was more reserved with his visits. Whatever the case, he had greater access to the palatium than most Solunarians that didn’t live or work beneath its high ceilings.

[Aeros]

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Æros chuckled at the boy's words. "You're right…I was going to look anyway, but I do prefer not to vex you, if possible," he smiled sweetly.

In the same moment, white-gold limbal rings surfaced over irises of a deeper shade. Peering into the boy's mind, he saw the events unfold from his lover's perspective. The memories were flickering, coming to him in flashes, as Khyan's recollection was quite fragmented– however, such a thing was not unexpected; the ordeal had been a traumatic one. Once he'd seen everything relevant, Æros closed his eyes and sighed.

"I wish it had gone better, that you'd come back unscathed, but…at least you still draw breath," his voice sounded weighted; fought with unexplained tension.

But Khyan's commentary regarding their respective stations made him roll his eyes; he knew that, pragmatically, the other was right. For all intents and purposes, sending a slave gifted with mastery over Semblance was the better choice than sending a Sembler of higher standing. Khyan was, objectively, more expendable than Æros in society's eyes.

"You might be right…but you do have infinite value to me, beloved," his was voice woven with affection, magic underscoring each word as he plied the boy's Symphony.

And as he explained his feelings about yesterday's meeting, the starry senator could tell that Khyan's consciousness was waning. He could feel it in the further softening of his Symphony, too, and in the waning enthusiasm in his words. Khyan needed rest.

"Rest, love, I won't go anywhere," he whispered, lips brushing against the side of the boy's face.

Not long after, both of them had fallen asleep; Æros hadn't arrived particularly exhausted, but he had zero desire to leave his partner's side. Lie down for long enough and sleep is wont to take you.

Doting as he was, in the ensuing days, Æros spent a lot of his time at Khyan's bedside, provided he was not needed elsewhere. And for the most part, he slept there. He did so adore Khyan, but part of his motivation for doing so was the excuse to spend time in the palace itself. The horned half-Fæ was quite enamored by its decadence and one could never know exactly with whom one might run into within its hallowed halls. And further, when Khyan was asleep, he'd often semble objects, mostly artwork, fascinated by just how old some things actually were. Everything, everyone, had a story, and Æros did so love to learn.

And as the days rolled by, Khyan's healing proceeded apace; more than apace, really– he healed quite quickly compared to what one would usually expect. The marvels of magical medicine truly knew no bounds.

"Much as I am fond of my own bedchambers, I dare say I might miss staying here when you're released," Æros said with a slight laugh.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

"If you vex me you can always just erase that, too..." Khyan mused mildly.

Upon being granted permission to rest, he well and truly gave himself up to slumber.

Khyan found himself genuinely enjoying his convalescence. It was actually the best he'd felt on the whole since before the Fall of the House of Nykara... or at least his branch of it. Sure, Æros was a bright spot amidst the grimness of his life as a slave and pariah, but he still had access to Æros and so much more!

To heal at the Palatium Umbrarum in the residence of a prince was to be treated like one himself. When Æros left to attend to his senatorial duties, Khyan had no dearth of activities to keep him occupied. Finn visited regularly, and whether together or alone he was treated to entertainers of sundry stripes, lavish cuisine and rarified wine and spirits.

There were storytellers who practised Masquerade to portray the tales visually as they told them. Some were fantastical, others so realistic he thought he might be able to step into the scene and participate. There were game masters who offered puzzles with prizes, of course there were Mesmusicians and Finn himself, possessing of a naturally lovely voice even without arcane enhancement, would often sing- albeit unaccompanied due to his injury. Although he knew Finn to be a masterful instrumentalist in his own right, he couldn't put his recently severed arm at risk by playing during their recovery period. Æros had access to all these boons as well, although Khyan was often weary and only good for an hour or two before falling asleep most days upon his return. This would give the senator plenty of time to explore the trappings of the room and the other adjoining areas to which he had free access.

"I know! If my medici weren't Sentinels I'd suggest you Mesmer them into prolonging my recovery period indefinitely. This truly is the life." He said with a contented sigh.

"Why don't you raise an army and claim some foreign land in the name of Aværys so you can be a prince and we can live like this forever?"

[Aeros]

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Æros shook his head at the notion of using magic to truly erase anything from the boy’s mind but he said no more, letting the other fall into slumber. He knew he could meddle with a heavier hand…but the scenarios in which he’d feel compelled to do something like that were few in number; he did prefer to give Khyan as much autonomy as he could.

And though Æros had always been used to luxury, the standards of royalty were a few steps above his station and the treatment they had while they stayed within the walls of the Palatium Umbrarum reflected that. The starry senator was happy to enjoy all of the amenities provided, epicurean as his beliefs tended to be, and in doing so alongside Khyan, he did his best to help the boy, for the nonce, forget that he was a slave at all.

In the present, the horned half-elf chuckled at the notion of Mesmerizing Khyan’s medici. “Devious…I do like the idea, but alas!” He spoke with a bit of feigned dramatics. Not only would it not work, but even trying would likely yield poor results.

And to the boy’s other suggestion, Æros smiled, though it was something subtle and almost apprehensive. “I wish I could– but I’d need quite a bit more influence, no? Some ties to the military, the like. However, should I catch wind that Solunarium wishes to expand…? I’ll happily throw myself into the endeavor however I can; that would be…ever so exciting.”

Of course, he was pretty sure that Khyan’s suggestion wasn’t that serious, but to be frank, Æros had always been a proponent of the idea of creating new major Solunarian settlements, stating as much when it came up amongst the other politicians. If he was given the opportunity to do something like that? He’d take it immediately and with glee– but he was no general, at least not right now; he’d need to work alongside others…hopefully above them, but that part was more wishful thinking than not.

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'Thoughts'

"Vallenor Tongue/Speech"

"Vastien Tongue/Speech"

"Valasren Tongue/Speech"

"Common Tongue/Speech"

[Khyan Nykara]

"I know, I know..." Khyan chortled, "I was only in jest." If only the Princeps Draconum wasn't a notoriously strict monogamist, perhaps they both might have wormed... or in this instance wyrmed... their way into his harem and been kept boys living this dream life until His Exalted Majesty tired of them. A servus could dream.

"I tend to think we're long overdue for some expansion." Khyan mused, "I'd like to think that was why we started opening our borders to so many peregrini... to prepare the way." The servus didn't make a habit of talking politics, these days. Even when his father had been a Consul, he hadn't been thus inclined, but he did find himself having theological discussions with Finn lately. It was such an odd thing with Finn being a foreigner, but also Marked by the Deus Imperator. There were some elements of the faith in which Khyan had been indoctrinated since birth that Finn understood more intimately, and there were many matters Varværyn about which the Kalzasern-reared human was laughably ignorant. But at least the bard got Khyan thinking more about history and religion than he had in a long time. He was reminded of the Aværyan principles and it occurred to him that, with the Founders free at last, it was only a matter of time before the once-isolated realm sought to spread out and stretch its creaky old limbs of empire.

"I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself, but I would like to see you as some viceroy or provincial governor... Even an ambassadorship would be a feather in your cap, I should think. Perhaps that's a sounder place to start..." He shook his head, smiling apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I guess without much ability to rise myself, I've grown a bit fixated on how to life the house to which I'm pledged."