• PM To Join • 1.2 The Meeting

[Llyr Llywelyn]

VALARIS: THE FIRST EXPEDITION
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15 SAUN, ARC 720

Feno Zeilos shook the hand of Constance Dupuis, until it looked like he was going to shake it right off her wrist.

Around the tall Eidisi, and the petite human, their teams watched the whole thing out of formality's sake. A simple shake of the hand to relay respect for the other, though they may not know each other and come from different places. Feno offered a smile to Constance, as well. To show that he was as non-threatening as he looked. An older Eidisi scholar, and nothing more to him than that. Whether Constance believed it or not, didn't seem to matter. She offered a cheerful grin to him and the others in the Viden contingent.

The trip from Viden had gone smoothly. It helped having the portal technology of the Eclipse Portals, and had made what would have otherwise been an arduous journey itself, as easy as hopping over to the library for some morning reading.

It was warmer in Rharne than in Viden, though, and within just a few bits of arriving, most of the Viden group had to peel off the layers of their clothes to avoid sweat.

Llyr kept his jacket folded over his arm, while he watched the various people start to mingle. Most were students, he noticed, and he wondered if they were getting paid or not. One young-looking woman approached and held out her hand to shake. He returned it gingerly with his gloved hand, while he glanced over her.

"You're the mage, aren't you?" she asked, blue-eyes wide.

Was it the halo that gave it away? Llyr kept himself from asking. He simply blinked, then nodded. He resisted the impulse he felt in his wings for them to flutter.

"What magic do you know?" she returned.

Llyr glanced to the side, where one of the Eidisi stood. The son of Feno Zelios, the Eidisi noticed Llyr's glance and quickly came over to shake the woman's hand. Llyr appreciated the interception, and turned away so he didn't have to introduce himself to any more of the group. He didn't necessarily want to know their names or who they were... not with how Feno kept repeating again and again that more than half of them would probably make it out of the ruins. In private, with his discussions between Zelios, it would likely be the vast majority who would perish. After all, the previous expedition had the one survive: Feno Zelios.

"Thank you for deciding to come along," said a quiet voice next to him. Llyr looked down at Constance Dupuis, then he nodded. She smiled and added, "Your name is Wellin? or do you prefer West?"

"Wellin is fine," returned Llyr. He glanced over his shoulder to where the various individuals continued to trade handshakes. Llyr felt as if he should say something more, or maybe ask a question of her, but he found himself far too distracted by other thoughts.

"Well, Wellin..." Constance continued to smile. She set a friendly touch to his arm. "If you need anything, you let me know, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded, and watched while she returned to the group. The tall biqaj opened a glass door that led out onto a balcony that wrapped around the building. Llyr went to the railing and stared out over the cityscape of Rharne. Nearby, he could see the ship that they'd be taking down to Volta.

[Saza Moshe]

15 SAUN, 720

Saza Moshe had made up his mind. It didn’t take long to figure it out, as he’d had his suspicions long before. After a few bits of observation of the Viden contingent in their newest stop of Rharne, he’d concluded:

The Videnese were really funny to watch handle the heat.

One of the last members still wrapped in several layers, Saza observed the other members of the Viden contingent with thinly-veiled amusement. Since they’d arrived in the warmer city of Rharne, the assistant had retrieved his journal from the bag slung over his shoulder, and resumed his tireless note-taking.

Updates were made to his written observations of the Viden crew, such as the way each of them reacted to the heat, and to the crew that would be joining them – and then he started on writing profiles for each member of the Rharne contingent as well.

Constance Dupuis was very beautiful, he thought, as he watched the woman shake Zeilos’ hand – but he didn’t make a note of that specifically. Opinions were only useful sometimes, and he intended to keep his observations clear and free of bias.

Afterwards, while the members of both groups dealt with introductions and other niceties that Saza didn’t know much about, he wandered a little nearer to his employer. He took note of the girl that’d approached Llyr (both mentally and literally, in his journal), but didn’t bother speaking up himself. Certainly if Llyr wanted, the younger biqaj could deal with her – but the issue passed before he could, and one Constance Dupuis approached his employer next.

Now, Saza wasn’t shy. He didn’t consider himself to be, anyway – but the curly-haired assistant still dipped his head to avert his gaze into his notes when she walked over. Llyr didn’t seem as concerned… and Constance was gone soon enough, which earned the quietest sigh of relief from the youth. How was he meant to keep his focus when there were so many pretty people around?

He followed one of them out and onto the balcony, and only then did he pause his writing. Journal closed, graphite stick held atop his scarred, pointed ear, Saza glanced back through the glass doors before he moved forward to look over the city.

“Pretty,” he commented, holding his journal almost protectively at his chest… before the sight of it all compelled him to open it again. After all… it wouldn’t hurt to have a note of the building that housed such important technologies such as the Eclipse Portals. But, he wondered as his brow furrowed and his eyes searched the ground, where had he put his graphite stick?

[Llyr Llywelyn]

15 Saun, 720.

Llyr glided his gloved hands along the smooth polished railing of the balcony. His eyes warmed with colors of violet and amber while he observed the cityscape. The biqaj always did feel more comfortable within cities than anywhere else. While he could travel, and spent most of his young life in wilderness (whether on the seas or the jungles), the mortalborn held such a profound affinity for cities that he felt it as if it were an immobile part of his soul. He had never known, not until he had started to visit the cities, not until he left Quacia to Etzos, then left to Viden, then... and on... and now he knew it wasn't a particular city that drew him, but all of them.

The pale blond glanced to the Saza when the assistant joined him at the balcony edge. He nodded in quiet agreement to the simple comment made. Llyr turned slightly to face him and said in Ith'ession, "Breagha."

"Pretty," he confirmed while he retrieved the graphite stick from behind Saza's pointed ear. His thumb traced, as if by accident, along the scarring. Llyr brought his hand forward though, with the pencil in offer for Saza. "Thank you. Tapadh leat."

"Have you been practicing before going to bed and when waking up like I told you?" inquired Llyr while he glanced to make sure that they might be left alone on the balcony for the time being. "Saza, I'm going to ask you something that might seem unusual..."

The blond crossed his arms and looked out at Rharne while he considered whether or not he wanted to go into the matter right here and now. He felt the impulse though, then decided against it. Yet he'd already prepped as if he would, so Llyr searched for another question that he might ask, "...you've been under my employ for ninety trials today, did you know that?"

"Did you want something?" he inquired with a glance. The warmth in his eyes cooled to blue. "You are paid, yes, but... is there something else I can do for you, to repay you for the hard work and exquisite dossiers you record and put together? You have become irreplaceable to me, Saza Moshe, and before we part in Foster's, I'd like to be able to return some of that in any way I can."

[Saza Moshe]

15 SAUN, 720

“Breagha.”

“What?”

“Pretty,” Llyr confirmed, and Saza nodded in sudden understanding. He returned to his search for his missing graphite stick, but the other biqaj found it first. With the offer of an embarrassed little smile, he accepted the writing utensil with a quiet, “Tapadh leat,” and just so happened to speak at the same time as his employer.

His smile widened for just a moment, before he looked back down to his opened journal and away from Llyr. “Yes, I’ve been practicing. Morning and night. And afternoon,” and a bit more than that too, but Llyr probably didn’t care about everything he did in what free time he had.

Regardless, Saza flipped to an empty page in his journal and started on his brief notes concerning the Eclipse Portals and the building they were currently occupying. He only glanced up again when Llyr spoke, but before long his eyes were back to the pages, while he awaited whatever unusual question the man felt compelled to ask. He was used to questions, weird or otherwise, and he wasn’t worried about it…

...but the inquiry was hardly anything to fuss over. The youth clicked his tongue and paused in his writing to consider it. He knew how long he’d been working for Llyr, he counted the trials himself when he dated each new page in his journal – ninety was something of a milestone, he guessed, but of what importance was any of that to Llyr?

“Did you want something?”

Saza blinked. His half-lidded gaze was colored blue, a natural shade darker than Llyr’s. He wasn’t sure that he understood; he shut his journal for the time being and slipped it into his bag, and this time remembered to set the graphite stick in there with it. “Oh, ah…”

He’d never really… thought about it. Wanting something, that is – at least when it came to things that the older biqaj could provide him. Saza scratched at the back of his neck almost awkwardly, and he took a few steps closer to the railing, to stand nearer to Llyr while they spoke.

“I appreciate the offer, of course, but…” why was he so embarrassed to admit it? It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, and yet he looked out and over the city of Rharne with a wine-red gaze that tried to say otherwise. “I really just want to work harder, and improve upon what I can do for you.”

Saza reached out to set his bony hands around the railing, and continued, “I like working for you – I get to write, and travel, and everything else I couldn’t do at home. And I get to learn so much… which, actually…”

Another glance towards Llyr, but this time the assistant’s open, curious expression didn’t falter.

“I wouldn’t mind learning more from you, when you have the time.”

That went for more than just the language of Ith’ession, of course. Saza didn’t suppose he was nearly as well-traveled or learned as the older blond, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t try to get there. He raised one of his hands to brush against the v-shaped nick in his ear, where Llyr’s fingers had touched, and he added, “another journal might be nice too, though.”

[Llyr Llywelyn]

15 Saun, 720.

As Saza moved to stand closer, Llyr surveyed the other blue-eyed biqaj... only the blue changed to the wine-red again. Llyr had only started to understand his assistant's eye colors, but it always helped when he-

-delved into the younger's tangle. He explored the threads, quiet and unnoticeable, while he observed Saza's emotions. Embarrassed? Shy? The words spoken seemed difficult for the biqaj to say. Among the slight embarrassment and nervousness, he recognized threads of determination but also... overwhelm. It was not the first time he had explored Saza's tangle, though. Llyr strummed a thread of relaxation he found, to ease the overwhelm just enough to make it seem natural.

I like working for you...

Llyr smiled, just slightly, in a soft expression that graced his youthful features. His assistant seemed capable of such honesty, whenever he delved into the other biqaj's tangle to check. Always so nervous, yet wanting to do well, and never having any duplicity beneath such determination.

He met the open curious expression with a muted interest. His eyes warmed though, again, and he glanced over the biqaj.

“I wouldn’t mind learning more from you, when you have the time.”

"Oh?" said Llyr, somewhat surprised by the statement. He almost shrugged, for how he hadn't expected it. Llyr didn't consider himself a great teacher, not when compared to the professors of the Viden University. More often, he felt he had no idea what he was doing and that most of his attempted lessons were nothing but nonsense.

“...another journal might be nice too, though.”

Llyr examined the tangle a little closer. He searched through the threads, but needed a little more connection... so Llyr took off his glove. Hand bare, with the fingertips glittered from the ether fractures around the polished nails, he set his fingers gently on Saza's hand. He grazed the hand that had been stayed on the railing with a gentle touch that was a little overly affectionate but that wasn't exactly new for Llyr. It also helped him observe deeper into the tangle of emotional threads, as did the eye contact that he guided Saza to make with him. Llyr's eyes glittered in pale yellows and violets petaled out from his pupils.

"You always want journals, Saza," he mentioned in a teasing tone of voice. "But learning... we can do that. If you'd like. We'll have plenty of time on the ship, while headed to Etzos."

"There is the Ith'ession, but is there something else you'd like to learn about?" he inquired, while he kept his hand over the other's, and he gradually Entwined threads of calm, desire split from the ambition, and strummed with the need for Llyr's approval into a heady mix of desperate but patient yearning. The mage wielded his empathy in perfect secrecy while he coaxed the entwined concoction to the surface of Saza's tangle for the other biqaj to feel such complexity - curious what reaction it might cause.

[Saza Moshe]

15 SAUN, 720

Llyr seemed almost surprised by his confession, but Saza wasn’t sure why. The older biqaj might’ve been a little all over the place when he got something in his mind… but it wasn’t like it was all that difficult to sort through, if you knew how.

Saza didn’t view any of it that much differently from the other man’s academic office back in Viden – it was a bit scattered, a bit overwhelming, a bit daunting if you went into it with the wrong mindset… but it was worth it to stick around and make what sense you could of it all. So Saza thought, anyway, in all his poorly-worded curiosities.

After removing his glove, his employer set a hand over his, where it rested on the railing. Saza didn’t look away from Llyr’s face though, mostly unaffected by the touch – the assistant was a rather touchy person himself after all, and it didn’t immediately register to him that it was anything out of the ordinary, but then it was a bit… extra, wasn’t it?

He glanced down at their hands for less than a trill, in acknowledgement of the etherlit fingers more than anything, and then he was looking up again to meet the other’s colorful gaze. His own reflected its typical, deep red hue, though the color cooled into a darker mix of purples and reds as the other biqaj spoke. Another hesitant smile pulled at the corners of his mouth at the tease, but it wasn’t wrong – he did always want journals. He wasn’t sure what else he could possibly want but more materials to work with…

...though, as he quietly cleared his throat and dropped his hand from his silver-dusted ear, he figured it probably wasn’t a good question to linger on for too long. Saza glanced away from Llyr for just a moment, his cheeks dusted with the same light shimmer of silver-blue. When had it gotten so warm? And he’d only just been thinking to himself how funny it was that the Videnese couldn’t handle the heat. His eyes found Llyr’s again before long, lightened into the soft pink tones of an early sunrise.

“Uh… hadn’t thought about it really…”

It wasn’t a lie, either. The curly-haired assistant tried not to think of much that didn’t concern his work. Although he faced something of a problem, as his employer certainly counted as something related to his work. And with the way he kept offering praise, as if Saza was actually doing good and doing what he wanted, it was hard not to think about why. Or – to wonder. Did Llyr really consider him to be… irreplaceable, in spite of all the better-educated, skilled people he knew? It didn't feel all that likely, not to him. He wasn't special, and he wasn't any better than anyone else.

Saza’s half-lidded eyes darkened as crimson freckled his gaze. One of his fingers twitched beneath Llyr’s, as if the assistant was unsure of the placement. He looked down to his bag and gently pulled his hand away, with the excuse of fixing the canvas strap, and then he shook his head in a casual manner.

“Anything you’re willing to teach me,” he requested in spite of the gesture. “I mean, I – I like learning, so. Whatever might make me more useful to you, I’d like to know.”

[Llyr Llywelyn]

15 Saun 720.

Llyr observed the reaction, obvious as it was for the empath to realize exactly why Saza's skin shimmered with so much of the silver blood that lay beneath. The heat that gathered, and most notably, the change of the irises to resemble an early sunrise... which happened to be Llyr's favorite moment of every trial, but also a moment corrupted by the past. His own eyes cooled to the ice-blue, glints of silver along the edges.

A twitch of a finger beneath his brought him back from wandering thoughts. He lifted his hand as Saza pulled away. The eager response, the vagueness of the answer, and Llyr knew what drove those words. Was it real, if he'd sewn and coaxed it to be the case? Llyr supposed he understood what Lucretia meant when she told him of how empaths rarely found their way back to a sort of naive trust that they had before initiation. It was too tempting not to manipulate people's emotions, and yet, Llyr found himself uncertain any time he strummed at the threads of a person. Uncertain whether they would have ever allowed such emotion to influence their view of him, without the ethereal manipulation.

"Anything?" he asked in his naturally deep voice. A voice he rarely used with Saza except from time to time. Most often, he kept to the silvery voice he extended to the general public. "There are many things useful to me a-"

He paused in midsentence. Llyr turned to look at the woman from before who'd asked about his magic. She wasn't looking at him, but at his hand. His bare hand.

"Are those... ether scars?" she asked.

Llyr swiftly put his glove back on to cover them up. He forced a smile. The irises of his eyes had flashed in oranges, settled into a pumpkin-like color. He said, "No."

"That's what they look like. I've seen paintings of it, i-"

The tall biqaj walked past her, without care if Saza remained on the balcony or not. He so badly wanted to just leap off the balcony and fly, but that would have seemed too rude, he suspected. So instead he just walked through the room, and shook his head when Zelios tried to stop him. Llyr left the meet-and-greet without another word otherwise to anyone.

"Oh, I didn't mean to make him angry," said the woman to Saza with a pout. "Mages shouldn't get so touchy, it's not every trial we get to see one so highly mutated! A halo, and wings... just think of the experiments and all that could be learned! He should be more open-minded."

18 Saun 720.

Nearly three trials they'd been on the ship from Rharne to Volta. The cabins were shared by groups of five, mixed between the Viden and Rharne teams rather than split up into separate areas. Feno and Constance insisted that the two teams of scholars and adventurers get to know each other. It wasn't certain how long they'd be in Valaris, so familiarity would help potential survival - or so they claimed.

Llyr struggled with this. He didn't want to get to know any of the people, on either team. Assured that most would die anyway, the biqaj didn't understand why it might be important. Of course, Llyr didn't want them to die, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe otherwise. Still, it didn't make it any easier to endure the invasive questions that the scholars from the Rharne team seemed insistent on. Perhaps the same would have occurred with the Viden team if it wasn't for Yvithia's Blessing that seemed to afford him a greater respect. The same didn't occur for those from Rharne though.

So, his trials became a mix of teaching Saza how to speak and read Ith'ession. Interspersed in these lessons, he sometimes talked about record-keeping or went over the younger biqaj's journals with him to both compliment and point out spots where Saza could improve his scribe craft. Llyr shared the fact that he'd been a scribe for a mage once, and that he used to keep the records for his family's business. He didn't talk much farther about either though, content to practice conversation in the Etzori language instead.

He didn't seem to eat, but Saza would know that Llyr did actually eat. Llyr just ate very lightly, and only when he felt as if they were completely alone. The mage would only eat the food he brought with himself too, and only after checking the texture and color, then offering for Saza to take a bite first. The same occurred with the water, in which Llyr requested that Saza try it first. It was always fine, but Llyr insisted.

And Llyr couldn't resist continuing his empathy practice. Saza was such a perfect target for such manipulations. So honest with what lay in the tangle, and so unaware of the magic that wove through him. He tugged and he twisted and he knotted and he strummed. Llyr continued the entwined threads of yearning affection and desire. Every time he went to find them, he found them a little closer to the surface and a little more sincere without his added manipulations. He found it almost relaxing, to guide Saza into a state of blushed bliss without any reason other than their lessons together. Llyr was, essentially, coaxing Saza into a terribly powerful crush but he made sure it would feel good to the tangle.

Llyr wondered, though, what occurred to the tangle when he left it be afterward. What Saza might feel when the threads finally reclaimed their natural state without the ether holding them in place. He had a hint, sometimes, when he first entered the tangle after a while apart but he still wondered.

On the morning of the 18th, though the dual Saun suns remained in perpetual daylight outside, Llyr found them a spot in a corner of a cabin. The others were away in the mess hall, eating breakfast. Llyr sat on a chair between the two cots and held the book about Ith'ession language.

Wherever Saza had settled, Llyr kept near him. As the times before, he explored the tangle while he repeated phrases to help Saza memorize them. He moved a little closer, though, and glanced over his assistant. He strummed the entwined threads to remove the patience to the yearning, to increase the desperation and determination to please...

"What happened to your ear?" he asked, in a curious tone, breaking away from the lesson like he sometimes did. "Did a dagger cut it?"

[Saza Moshe]

15 SAUN, 720

Anything, repeated Llyr in that deep voice of his, and Saza gave a subtle nod. His gaze lifted back to the older biqaj as he continued on, with the confirmation that there were many things useful to him and – what things? What other things? Llyr’s words were cut off by a stranger’s intrusion, and Saza glanced over to see the same woman from before, who had questioned the mage already about his sparks. He couldn’t blame her for being curious, and he was sure that he knew far less about any of it than even she did… but it was rather rude of her to interrupt.

While his employer hastily pulled on his glove and dismissed the woman’s questions, Saza cleared his throat and remained where he was. He felt a little… odd, for having let his need for acceptance influence his answers for Llyr. Typically, the youth tried to keep a steady head. His own ambitions were secondary to what he could do for his work, however, and he supposed that he had only been looking for more ways to assist in his employer’s busy life.

...Yeah, that seemed right to him.

Saza watched as the slightly older man took his leave. He turned his attention to the woman that’d interrupted their conversation then, as she found it necessary to complain about the matter to him… and he dipped his head with a polite (if slightly uncomfortable) smile and said to her, “I have some things to do. Excuse me.”

With that, he left the balcony, to find wherever his employer had gone.

18 SAUN, 720

Oh, how he hated ships! The way they rocked and wavered and whatever the hell else they did that made his stomach so twisty-turny and sick, he hated it. Saza stayed inside as much as he could, as he’d found that the sight of all that water only made his anxious body worse, but he’d be happier when they set foot on land. It helped to focus on other things, though, to keep his mind off of the water and all the many risks it brought about simply by existing.

He continued his notes on the two joined teams, updating them throughout the trials as he saw fit. Some of them reacted better to the environment than he did, while others fared worse, but he made sure to make a record of it all either way.

He practiced his Ith’ession too, when he arose from his cot in the mornings and when he returned to it in the nights, and while he was still not completely confident in his skills… he was beginning to get the hang of it, he thought. His words were still fitted through his obvious hotlands accent, but they were far closer to the sounds that they were meant to be – they were understandable, in any sense, and that was what mattered.

The continued lessons his generous employer provided him were far more helpful than anything he could’ve learned on his own. Hearing the way that the words were meant to be said, hearing the proper inflections, the right emphasis – Llyr’s guiding voice repeated in his head anytime the youth tried to recall the proper sounds, when he practiced the language on his own.

Saza hadn’t realized just how lovely of a teacher the other biqaj was. When he had confessed his interest in learning Ith’ession, he hadn’t expected anything more than a few necessary phrases to be thrown his way, and yet Llyr took every opportunity out of his busy life just to help him learn.

It was more attention than he deserved, and certainly more than the mage should have spared for an assistant… but he found himself more and more excited for their lessons every time. Was it selfish to take so much of his time? Saza couldn’t help but feel like he should’ve learned it all before, just to save Llyr the trouble of teaching him, but he was grateful for all the time he spent with his employer. As deeply private of a person as Llyr was, Saza found that every little thing he shared of his life, or what it used to be, only lifted his pedestal higher in the ambitious blond’s mind.

Llyr was… inspirational. He’d always thought so, but getting to spend so much time in close quarters with him again, it only reminded him of that fact. The curly-haired assistant thought so highly of him, and every interaction only seemed to solidify his trust and admiration and respect and… and he was so handsome, too, and – but that wasn’t, like, it wasn’t –

Saza didn’t know what it was, actually, but he knew that it made his chest feel all light and fluttery when Llyr gave him those small smiles of his, or when he teased him about his love for his journals, or when he praised his emerging understanding of Ith’ession, and it made his face burn with silver-blue blush and – and – and gods! He felt so unprofessional! But for all the help that distancing himself might have had, when Llyr was nearby, Saza didn’t want to move away.

He was sitting at the edge of one of the cots, book propped open to rest upon his knees. His curly blond hair was pulled back into a bun, as it often was when he was trying to concentrate on something completely and not get distracted by the mess. Dark blue irises swirled with gentle pinks, as flower petals floating down a river. Saza’s attention was (mostly) wrapped up in the pages of the book as he followed Llyr’s voice, but as an unrelated question cut through their lesson, he turned his head to glance to the other’s chair.

“My…?” the assistant furrowed his brow for a trill, before he clicked his tongue in understanding. “Oh, right, this.”

Ith’ession book set to the side, on the cot, Saza scooted a little closer to Llyr’s chair. Casually. He reached up and touched the pointed ear in question, though his gaze flicked over the other biqaj curiously before he gave his answer. Blue was gradually tinted red as he spoke, until his half-lidded gaze remained a deep burgundy hue, flecked still with pink.

“I got it a few trials after I hurt my leg, actually. My friend came to visit to see how I was recovering,” and… he wasn’t sure that he’d ever told anyone any of this, before. But he trusted Llyr, and continued, “or, that’s what he said, anyway. I fell asleep a bit after he got there though, and…”

Saza was quiet for a few short trills, while his calloused fingers touched against his ear. The scar was obvious without a mess of blond curls covering it. He shrugged a shoulder.

“He missed,” was all the youth said. He didn’t care to relive or think of any of it that he didn’t have to, unless Llyr felt it necessary to know more. Saza’s hand moved into his hair, where his fingers pushed through the curls and then freed them of the bun. They fell over the tips of his ears, and he tried to ignore the rising heat that reached them. His face, too, was dusted lightly in the same silver-blue.

There he sat in curious (and almost nervous) observation, watching Llyr with eyes of blended purples and reds and blues and pinks. “Llyr, I…”

Shit, now he had to come up with something to actually say. Did he even have anything? He’d just felt compelled to say his name, if only to catch his attention and… Saza looked away, while both hands came to rest upon his knees.

“I really appreciate, uh, all of this. Teaching me Ith’ession, but also… giving me all the opportunities that you have, in letting me be your assistant. It really means a lot to me, and…” and… Saza could feel the tips of his pointed ears burning.

“You’ve asked me before what you can do for me, but… I’m the one in your debt, really.”

[Llyr Llywelyn]

18 Saun 720.

In a way, it was nice to know another biqaj who didn't take to the sea as easily as they were expected to. Llyr had gotten better since the long voyage over Orm'del Sea from Quacia to Etzos, and he'd be happy to never be on another boat again, but he'd gotten used to it. As long as it was occasional and not constant. It helped not eating much, and having a greater grasp on the world around him then he did with his first voyage. Saza's struggles with the ship though (and they weren't even on the sea, yet! Just on a river!) reminded him of himself.

Llyr enjoyed observing Saza, too. From the attempt to mask the sea-sickness, to the confused blushes conjured by the manipulation of empathy threads, and the way that the slightly younger biqaj seemed to act wary but wanting regardless. Most of all, he enjoyed observing the changes to Saza's eyes while he learned the colors and what they corresponded with, in the unknowing mortal's tangle.

As Saza moved closer to where he sat, Llyr simply observed the tangle rather than manipulate it further. He found it far more interesting how every time he spent time with Saza, the less he had to coax the threads and the more natural they had become on their own. Was it because of the sessions? Of numerous bits spent together within just a few trials? He glanced at the scarred ear while Saza touched along the point.

He listened, quiet, though a slight frown darkened his expression. His eyes glimpsed in oranges, then blues, before settled into a green that resembled the river they currently traveled along. He placed an elbow against the cot, and leaned in the chair while he crossed his legs. Llyr watched while the other released the curls to hide part of the ears... and he looked back in patient eye contact to the blends of colors that swam through Saza's irises.

Llyr, I...

Llyr waited. A confession? Already? He supposed he had removed the patience that he often included in the entwined threads. Would that be the result? Would Saza no longer be able to keep silent about how he felt? Yet Saza looked away, instead. He said more, but not anywhere close to a confession. Llyr considered this while he watched the blush grow hotter over the tanned cheeks of the Nashaki native.

"Saza," said the pale blond in simple confidence. He set the book aside. His hand glided effortlessly, and carefully lowered to touch the injured knee. Light, he didn't put much pressure other than the graze of his etherlit fingertips. Alone with Saza, he didn't have to wear his gloves. Llyr explored the tangle, but no more than to simply check where Saza's threads were going on their own. He pivoted the chair slightly, to face Saza. His hand raised, he tucked some of the curls behind the scarred ear. Llyr ran his thumb along the nick, ever so gentle.

"You shouldn't hide your ears," mentioned Llyr. He lifted from the chair, moved forward with one knee on the cot beside Saza so he could lean over his assistant. "They're beautiful."

Llyr leaned closer. His fingers brushed aside the curls. He kissed the scar on Saza's ear in a soft press of his lips to the silver-tinted skin. He lingered for a few trills, then moved back to look at Saza. The blond shared in a quiet voice, "I used to have a scar, in a similar spot. Not too long ago..."

"Sorry," he mentioned when he surveyed Saza's body, as if only just now realizing how close they'd gotten to each other as Llyr had nearly straddled Saza's lap.

Llyr cleared his throat and returned to his chair. He fixed his own hair, then picked up the book and said, "Now that you know directions, we should move on to phrases that might help you with law enforcement. In Etzos, there are a few types. The most notable are the Black Guard, who are usually mages as a subunit of the city guard. They are dangerous, especially now that Sintra has transformed some of them into... I think the going term is Web Guards? You will want to avoid getting caught up in any of that during your time in the city."

"Repeat after me; Chan fhaca mi dad. I didn't see anything, I saw nothing. Chan fhaca mi dad." said Llyr while he flipped towards the end of the book. They were already starting to run out of pages in the basics, but he had the next volume in the series ready for if it was needed. "Cha chuala mi dad. I heard nothing. Cha chuala mi dad."

[Saza Moshe]

18 SAUN, 720

Upon hearing his name, Saza’s attention was pulled away from his wandering look about the room. With his lightly-freckled cheekbones shimmering with blush, he allowed himself another glance at Llyr, just as the other man set his book aside. He moved forward from his chair, etherlit fingers light on the assistant’s knee, and Saza swallowed down the sudden spike of anxiety that thickened in his throat. Or was it the seasickness? Or still something else?

Whatever it was, it culminated in the rapid beating of his anxious heart and a quick inhale he had to suppress. Breathe, he told himself, and he didn’t know why it was so damn hard all of a sudden. It was just Llyr after all! Llyr, who was… touching his ear, and his hair, and… leaning over him… so close… close enough that if he wanted, he could slip his arms around the other man’s waist and pull him down into his lap and – Saza’s red eyes widened as he felt the soft press of lips against his scarred ear.

Did Llyr just kiss him?! Him?!

(His ear, sure, but his?!?!)

Stunned into stillness, the young assistant held his breath. His cheeks burned hotter than ever, and his heart was beating so fast that he was surprised it didn’t burst out of his chest. While Llyr spoke, his lovely voice so quiet and soft near to his ear, Saza reminded himself of a few key things:

First of all, Llyr was his boss. His employer. They had a strictly professional relationship, which sometimes meant sharing close quarters and spending a lot of time together but it was all for a good reason. Saza valued the other biqaj’s respect and didn’t want to ever, ever overstep his boundaries or do anything else to make him reconsider or regret making him his assistant.

And second – Llyr was… well, most of the time...

a man.

A very beautiful, very handsome man, but the fact remained the same that Saza didn’t…

...Oh he could’ve reached up and pulled Llyr down to kiss him right then. Leaned over him, practically in his lap already, and it would’ve been so easy just to keep him there. But he didn’t. Because Llyr moved away. And also because he wasn’t interested, like, at all, in doing that.

As Llyr returned to his chair, Saza looked down to his knees, his tangle a chaotic mess of buzzing threads. Above all rested his anxiety, nearly matched by the stubbornness of his denial and desire.

Without the empath’s influence, any in observance might find that the softer, less physical components of his blossoming crush fell quicker to the bottom of his tangle, although his genuine admiration of the other man remained steady and strong – as did his encouraged desire. He grabbed his book only a few trills after Llyr did, and cleared his throat as he flipped it to the right page. But it was just… so hard to focus…

Wine-red eyes flicked back over to Llyr, to observe the paler blond for just a moment. If he could just focus on what he was saying… and he watched the other’s lips move as he spoke, just to make sure he was doing everything he could to listen.

“...I heard nothing. Cha chuala mi dad.“

Shit, he hadn’t heard anything.

“Cha… Tha mi duilich. Um,” as he looked back to his own book, Saza took a deep breath to clear his mind. He got so flustered around Llyr lately. It helped not to look at him, though, and the assistant reached up to push his curly hair behind his ear again as his blush paled some.

“For the Web – or, for the Black Guards. Chan fhaca mi dad, cha chuala mi dad. I saw nothing, I heard nothing. Chan fhaca mi dad, cha chuala mi dad.”

Were the Black Guards (and Sintra’s manipulated Web Guards) that much of an issue in Etzos? Enough that he had to practice… lying about things? Saza was a terrible liar, he knew that much, but the difference in language would hopefully only be to his benefit in that regard. Face still painted with a light silver sheen, Saza grabbed his journal from where it rested below the cot, and opened it to quickly copy down the phrases and better memorize them.

“Okay,” said Saza as he glanced up from his journal and book, “what else?”