• Mature • To Serve

[Levinia]

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[Qaerris]

30th of Cylus, 716

The weight shifted on the bed Qaerris was laying upon, a groan parting his lips as he struggled to open his eyes. His head was pounding, his vision immediately blurring as his eyes struggled to open. Hands immediately lowered onto the bed, Qaerris slowly turning his body away from the direction he knew the window of this particular bedroom was in. Of course she had left already, the life of a noble never quite over. Qaerris knew that he too must rise, for the help would soon arrive to cleanse the bedroom. Rising from the bed, Qaerris took a moment to observe his reflection, a surge of pain tearing through the musculature of his shoulder. Rolling his shoulders, a wince found the expanse of Qaerris' features. He'd let his gaze move to observe his countenance, finding nothing out of place save for the remnants of a red mark going across the right side of his face.

Damn it. The harlot thought to himself as he lightly pulled on the flesh of his cheek, letting fingers caress the flesh for but a moment longer as he moved to retrieve his undergarments. Sliding into both his undergarment and his pants, Qaerris picked up his shirt from the ground, taking a moment to survey the condition of his body. It seemed that, with the exception of his face, he was quite unmarked, though his shoulder continued to ache, a rather troubling sign.

What did she even have me do last night? This sort of soreness... Did I lift her up for a while?

While Qaerris was by no means surprised by the notion of it, the aching would be a rather large inconvenience for him. Knowing the lye of the land as he did, it did not reveal to him the grandeur of the capitol of Andaris itself.

Three visits over two hundred years and I still get confused about where things are... Is it so difficult to keep the same sort of businesses in the same place over a lifetime or two?

The absurdity of the thought made Qaerris forget his pain for a few minutes as he threw on his shirt, letting his jacket roll reluctantly over his injured shoulder, his teeth gritting as fire returned to the limb with vengeance.

I could leave this alone... but there's no reason not to indulge myself a bit. After all, she'd likely rather have me in pristine condition... Just to bring problems anew.

Whatever her reasons were, the widow that monopolized quite a few of Qaerris' evenings found herself quite liberated once her husband died. Curiosity flared at the idea, a story forming in his mind, but in the moment, he cared not enough to attempt to investigate his hunch. A shrug moving his shoulders, Qaerris decided that, rather than let himself get lost in Andaris with the persistent pain bothering him, he'd seek direction for his query. And now I wait.

Rather than leave the room as he normally did, he waited for the help to arrive. As she entered, Qaerris immediately made his presence known, a grin cast upon his features as, without shame, he found his gaze flickering along the expanse of the woman's form. She was a rather pretty sort, likely hired by the lord of the house before his unfortunate accident. The woman seemed to retreat from Qaerris, though by the way she stared at him, wide eyed, rather glazed over as if unfocused, it seemed that she wasn't going to leave.

"Come," he requested of her, his features forming a smile despite the pain that continued to set upon him relentlessly.

"Would you know of a place you'd recommend seeing about muscle pain?"

The servant seemed to stifle a giggle, her gaze moving towards the door for a moment before she replied,

"I can recommend a person in particular to you, actually."

"Is that so?"

The woman went on to iterate that a young woman, new to medicine, was seeking to test out her practice on patients. A 'hm' escaped Qaerris' lips before he figured that he'd see if she could help him. Qaerris then proceeded to slip a gold nel into the woman's hand, lightly caressing her palm with his forefinger. A single slip of paper with an address set into the servant's hands as Qaerris made his way back home. "I'd appreciate if you sent for her.

It was best to get it over with now. Though his life was eternal, he was by no means invincible. Qaerris rolled his body onto his bed as he waited for the woman to arrive.

[Levinia]

Fortunately for Levinia she was an early riser and so was already dressed when the servant came to summon her. The knock caused Biscuit to run up on the bed and take a defensive stance. He was not a coward and he would defend his home tooth and claw. “Easy killer.” Levinia hushed the aggressive Tom and petted his head to which he purred and then began to lick his paw. His way of saying ‘fine, fine, you got this.’ She opened the door to find a woman around her age dressed in what could only be servant’s wear.

Her livery suggested a wealthy client and that got Levinia excited. If she pleased one wealthy client word of mouth would certainly get her more business. The servant quickly explained how she came to know of Levinia and explained a little about the person she was going to help. This not only allowed her to prepare for treatment, but mentally prepared for the treated himself. From the way the servant girl blushed and wrung her hands when she spoke of this man, Levinia realized she would have to use all of her mental ability to remain focused.

Her medical basket was prepared with what she believed she would need. This, of course, included something for pain and if the servant was right then something for strained muscles. Biscuit, in the meantime, was sniffing around the visitor’s skirts and when he found a patch of skin proceeded to bite her. The girl screamed sending Biscuit under the bed to avoid punishment from his mistress. “I’m sorry about that, he is not a very friendly cat.” She turned her face to hide the grin on her face. Biscuit was a good judge of character and for some reason he did not like this particular woman. Well he had his reasons she supposed, in the meantime she continued to prepare.

From the information she was given, the man’s profession could be strenuous; and she blushed at the thought of it. Levinia felt her lips warm up at the thought of what he and his lover might of done to earn such an injury. She shook the thoughts from her head as she grabbed her cloak and followed the servant to where her patient waited. It was still a little dark out, especially in the city where walls and buildings often prevented the sun’s rays to lighten up the road. The city was waking and it would soon be loud and alive.

She and the servant went their separate ways as the woman went back to her job and Levinia went to the address that was on the note. When Levinia finally arrived at the man’s home she suddenly realized just how unready she really was. She was young, and most took that to mean inexperienced but she had helped her father and brothers plenty of times. Although she had never been with a man she was not ignorant as to what they looked like and what they were capable off. Levinia knocked and waited patiently with her basket in hand and her heart fluttering madly against her chest.

[Qaerris]

Nearly half an hour waiting and still the harlot found it nearly impossible to assuage the aching that tore through his shoulder. Surely it wasn't a permanent injury, though some sort of incredible, persistent cramp seemed to have fallen upon it. Had he pulled a muscle? Qaerris wouldn't have it, for an injury of that nature would set him back quite a bit. It was not that the harlot truly had any worries about where his next meal coming from, for more likely than not it could come off the stomach of a particularly generous lady after Qaerris worked her over to the point of satisfaction. Often enough the courtesan was already invited to dinner by his patronage, a meal that was normally laden with innuendo and a sort of foreplay that wasted far too many grapes for the Mortalborn's liking. However, Qaerris wasn't one to complain. A chuckle parted his limps, punctuated by a groan of pain. The headache associated with a hangover seemed to wane, the Mortalborn's predominant suffering that which afflicted his musculature. It was an annoyance to be sure, but once Qaerris heard the knock he had hope that the situation would be amended.

With little motivating the harlot to return to the world of sleep, he instead spent his time making himself comfortable. Qaerris rid himself of his shirt, letting his bare chest feel the precipitation of late Cylus set upon the room. Though most was blocked out by the lack of exposure, an open window that let in the divine blessing of fresh air was a welcome thing. More likely than not, Levinia would experience the draft that fell upon the small house as he admitted the woman to join him in his humble abode. Stepping aside to let the woman pass, Qaerris couldn't help but be somewhat taken with the snow-white tresses that set upon Levinia's back, a mark that set her apart as different from many others. Qaerris, of course, couldn't help but admire. for appraisal was in his nature. She seemed to, by her dress and general demeanor, be one of humbler means, though it was better for Qaerris: it assumed a lower rate.

When at last Levinia joined Qaerris, he let the door close behind them, his lips parting to showcase perfect, white teeth as a hand moved to take hold of Levinia's. He'd raise her fingers to his lips, letting the flesh press to the back of her hand for perhaps a moment longer than was necessary. When Qaerris released hold of Levinia's hand, he let his light brown gaze fall upon her, his features turned to an infectious smile as he said, "Thank you for being so willing to assist. You are, I presume the one the servant told me of?"

The harlot knew the answer to his own question, for she was far better prepared than some random visitor would be. Bare-chested before the woman that was to treat him, Qaerris saw no reason to clothe himself and hide his body from her. After all, it was that very body that she was going to need to be exposed to in order to do her job . In truth, the harlot wondered to himself just how much the servant had shared with this woman.

Between women, surely there'd be some talk, for the Mortalborn was far too aware, particularly so long into his existence, the effect he had upon others. "Would you like to begin immediately? If so, where will you have me?"

[Levinia]

Levinia’s first reaction was to take her hand back by force if necessary, but she stifled the urge and allowed the man to do what he wanted with her fingers. Instead she graced him with a sweet smile, her blue eyes widening in faux innocence. “I am.” She responded and lifted the basket to show him that she had come prepared. “Although the servant was not too forthcoming as to what exactly you needed from me.”

Her eyes quickly inspected the home, noting that it might be as humble as her own, but perhaps a bit richer than hers obviously. She removed her cloak to reveal the simple spun blouse and skirt. Levinia then placed the cloak over her arm and looked up at her patient. “The sooner I start, the faster you’ll find relief, I’m sure.” She responded her eyes inspecting the man’s body which was, by all sense of the word, was perfect. Of course the man’s profession required such perfection and beauty, although she had known of older courtesans whose charm well surpassed their physical form.

It was clear that this man possessed both an excellent body and the charm that went with it. However, would he also have the intelligence to back it all up and make the package truly perfect. Levinia tore her eyes from him and looked around. “The bed would be fine and of course an explanation of exactly where you hurt and how badly it hurts.” She found a table and deposited her cloak and basket on top of it, then began to go through its contents.

“On a scale of a mild headache and a broken bone.” She turned to him, raising a dark eyebrow and asked, “Have you ever had a broken bone? Anyway…” She took out a bottle of painkiller, a mixture of poppy and another one made of white willow bark and continued asking him questions, “....how badly do you hurt? That way I know exactly what to give you.” Levinia held the bottles in her hand and waited for his response. She was proud that she had stifled her nerves and had, instead, filled herself with purpose. Her hands were steady as her father’s training kicked in and she mentally thanked him for it.

[Qaerris]

Qaerris was, at the very least, glad that this woman seemed well-prepared. In the past, he had found that his natural charm had perhaps worked too well on some, distracting them to the point of uselessness as they rambled on, truly giving no information or any kind of inclination that they were to do what they were supposed to. Letting a chuckle escape his lips, Qaerris turned, his legs taking him towards the bed. He'd set himself upon it, sitting upright as he allowed his mind to focus and decide exactly what he wanted to express.

"The pain is centered in my right shoulder, near the crook of my neck. I can't, for the life of me, remember exactly how the injury took place, for I was by the time quite numb."

The admittance of his inebriation at the time was subtly played, though Qaerris had cause to believe that this woman knew more than she was letting on. But, in the end, it truly did not matter what she knew about him, but rather what she could do for him. The harlot let a deep breath fill his lungs, the last, stubborn fog of his hangover turning its tide. He still felt the grogginess, the taste of alcohol weakly clinging to his throat. He'd stand and approach the table where, along with her stuff, his waterskin was located. He'd let several sips of water flow down his throat, the sustenance seeming to revitalize. Turning around when he noted that the woman was looking towards him, he'd look back at her, his back turned towards her gaze as he raised his left and right arms simultaneously. The left effortlessly raised over his head, the right going slower and by the end, could only reach level with his shoulder.

"See? There's some kind of tension going on there, some kind of injury. If you can, please set it right, Ms..." Qaerris stalled, knowing for a fact that he'd yet to introduce himself to the woman, as well. Letting an amicable chuckle escape his lips, Qaerris turned around to say, "My name is Qaerris, my dear. It is a lovely opportunity to make your acquaintance."

And with that, Qaerris made his way back to his bed, turning his body and shifting on it so that Levinia had a place to work from.

[Levinia]

Levinia studied the man’s face, more than his body. It was the face that tended to express the injury, more so than any words or movements. The man was, indeed, in pain and this was proven when he tried to move his shoulder. Her father and brothers often serviced the gladiators and strained muscles, hyperextentions and torn ligaments were quite common in that type of work. Apparently, it was just as common for paid lovers as well. “I see.” She commented as she chose the white willow bark and gently placed away the stronger of the painkillers.

She had seen enough to know what he probably had. Levinia took out a bottle of an anti inflammatory which contained turmeric and ginger. She began to quickly mix the ingredients together along with a sweet syrup to cut the taste a bit, although the ginger was strong enough to help the taste. “I’m called Levinia.” She responded to the man’s introduction but her eyes were on her work as was most of her concentration. After finishing up with the medicine, she rifled around her basket and took out the ingredients for muscle strain.

“Well it looks like you could have strained your muscle, but I’ll have to check to see if it's something more serious.” Levinia commented as she gingerly placed the newly made medicine bottle on the table and took out the ointment that smelled like basil and apple cider and were infused with olive oil. The petite healer then walked up to Qaerris and smiled at him as she put down the ointment and raised her hands up towards him. “Now,” She began as her fingers reached towards his shoulder, “This may hurt a little but I need to find out how bad the damage is.” With that warning, Levinia’s small but nimble fingers began to probe the man’s thick muscles.

Her eyes went distant as she concentrated on the muscle groups. The lessons her father gave her held steady in her mind as she inspected each one with pressure. Levinia’s fingers traveled from the man’s shoulder, to his neck and always asking how this and that felt as she continued. Finally she looked into his eyes, blue against brandy brown and placed a finger between his eyes on the browline. “You have a headache, don’t you?” She smiled warmly at him, “I’ll fix that too, don’t worry, you’re in good hands and I know exactly what to do.”

[Qaerris]

Qaerris arched his eyebrows as he noted the quick nature of the woman's diagnosis. In truth, her fingers hurt less than he thought they would and he would only once object when her fingers moved to probe the exact location of his condition. It seemed that it was moving the musculature himself that triggered the majority of the pain. Though Qaerris' hangover was long gone, still the annoyance of its effects were present upon him, the harlot watching lazily as the woman continued along the course of her treatment. She was mixing together what looked to be some sort of ointment, the courtesan watching, intrigued as he sought to familiarize himself with the treatment. Though Qaerris seldom needed a doctor, he figured that when he had one in his presence it would do him well to observe. The ointment she produced smelled of basil and olive oil, though a third mixture smelling vaguely of apples seemed to intermix with it. Curiosity would be contained for the moment, for distracting his caregiver while she was doing her work simply would not do.

When Levinia noted that he had a headache, truly the harlot was impressed. He'd not given her any inclination that he did save for the sparse wincing and grogginess, though surely the woman could be counted on for her observant nature. When she began to touch him, the harlot could not help but return the gesture. Fingers moved to trail lightly along the doctor's arm, a smooth caress set upon her flesh as a grin cast upon his features. Her assurance triggered the Mortalborn, who could not resist the quip that parted his lips next.

"How funny! My dear girl, that is something I find myself saying far too often to my clientele. It is as reassuring now as it usually is for them."

He nodded, letting his hands move to take hers. He'd set each of her hands upon one of his temples, his vibrant brandy coloured eyes seeming to stare into the woman's very soul once he caught her gaze. It was one of Qaerris' talents, to catch one's gaze and make them feel as if they were alone in the world. Doing so in a bar was a feat in it of itself, but when truly, they were alone, the effect was more noticeable among his clients.

"Oh, how lucky I am, dear Levinia. Surely without you, I'd be plagued for days with the unfortunate consequences of the needs of another."

Letting a light chuckle escape the man's lips, he trailed his gaze along the expanse of the doctor's body. There was no hiding this particular gaze, for he sought to let this woman know that he saw her for the beauty that she was.

"What, if I may ask, motivated you to be a doctor, Levinia? With a face as exquisite as yours, and hair so vivid in contrast to those about you, surely an easier life could be found?"

The courtesan did not imply that his own line of work was suited to her, for it took one of a... distinct temperament to suffer the explicit needs of a client in the way that Qaerris did. It was, after all, the courtesans who were the least selfish of public servants. Not that he didn't intend to charge back the woman who caused this injury. He'd make sure she'd pay for it in more ways than one.

[Levinia]

Whatever hold Levinia had on her self-control was completely shattered when Qaerris took her hands. His touch was warm, strong yet not rough, a sure sign that he knew how to handle a woman. She cursed herself mentally when her slender body began to tremble. Her traitorous form was reveling in the touch and perhaps something more. It took all of her willpower to even respond to his question let alone stop staring into his eyes.

He was truly a beautiful man.

She took her hands back, but not before feeling the man’s temperature which was higher than usual. Now, that did not mean he had a fever, but it could easily mean his headache was causing the heat buildup. Her own face flushed red hot and she looked away momentarily to take hold of the ointment for the strained muscles. Clearing her throat she responded in a shaky voice, “My father and two brothers are doctors and I seem to have a knack for it too.”

Levinia tried a smile but she could feel it tremble with the force she was applying to it. She needed to get a hold of herself or this man would run right over her. She had to get back to work in order to keep her mind focused and away from whatever was coursing through her mind and apparently his as well. “I’m going to rub this on the spots where you indicated pain and hopefully it’ll help. If it's something more serious well, it will last longer and then, of course, I-I’d need to figure out what exactly it is.”

Again, she felt her face flush as she realized what she was going to have to tell him, “I-It would be best if you lay down on your stomach..” Levinia swallowed, this had been so much easier when she practiced on her brothers. “...so I can reach the spot..um..better.”

[Qaerris]

The Mortalborn could not quite resist playing his game when the opportunity presented itself so easily. However, in light of the pain continuing to course about his shoulder, he deemed it best to cease his toying with the girl so that she could focus on her job. It was so amusing,however, to watch the tremble that wracked her form. The woman's voice had turned from a rather clinical 'bedside' manner sort of tone to that of a nervous virgin preparing herself mentally for her first sexual experience. Not that the harlot made any assumptions for her, but it was quite the intriguing course of events. When Qaerris' gaze at last broke from hers, it was not for his aversion of gaze. Levinia seemed quite unable to continue looking at him, her gaze set to her tools.

The courtesan watched his caregiver sort through her possessions with a flicker of amusement cast upon his features. Her averted gaze gave the harlot a chance to admire her for the second time that evening. It was quite a change, for when Qaerris was not actively working, he seldom leaped upon the opportunity to have his way with a woman. The business-like nature of his profession and the consequences of being a sex worker had, after all, left their mark. Qaerris was quite jaded to the idea of passionate love-making, however with this one perhaps he could have a go at it. Snapping himself out of the thought of it, Qaerris takes one last opportunity to tease the medic, his lips parting to form a wide smile as he nods twice. Qaerris sought to hold Levinia's gaze as he commented,

"Of course, Levinia. Now please do take good care of me. I'm in your hands."

The harlot managed to keep a straight face on before he turned away from the medic, settling his head on his pillow as his stomach at last made contact with the mattress. Using his shoulder for the last time let one last groan escape the courtesan's lips, a wince forming upon his features. Though, when he was grounded, the pain began to subside. The harlot's back was then revealed to the woman, smooth contours and well-toned musculature interlaced with red scratches that were unmistakably formed by nail marks biting into flesh. Upon the flesh of his left shoulder, which was closest to Levinia, one would likely see small indentations in the skin forming a perfect, U-shaped row, where it looks as if teeth had sunken into the skin. All of the markings seemed as if they had formed the night before, making the injury seem that much more believable.

The Mortalborn could still look to the previous evening and find himself astounded that Evelyn had such a fervor. Her wants and needs have increased over the past few weeks, time passing in her presumed grief over the tragic death of her beloved husband. It was enough to raise an alarm in Qaerris' head, but truly, he didn't care enough, in the moment, to investigate it.

It's not my concern.