formmusebox | for Essek (lacrymaperle)

for Essek (lacrymaperle) - vampire/werewolf au

[There had been a simpler time, several years before when Bren hadn't yet known Trent Ikithon, a time when he was thoroughly and blissfully unaware of the things that existed in the dark, when the ideas of werewolves and vampires and other creatures that ought to have been nothing more than fairy tale fodder. Instead, his paths had crossed with Trent and everything had changed. He'd been thrown into a small walled courtyard one night, under the light of a full moon, and he had not been alone. That was the first time he had met a werewolf. Bren remembered the bite, still had the scar of it on one forearm, remembered the confusion and the terror -- both of which were nothing compared to the full moon that followed the month after, the first time he'd transformed. He remembered the pain of his entire body breaking and reshaping itself, the fear of losing himself entirely. He'd blacked out that night, woken up naked and aching as if he'd been run over by a bus.

It had been the same very moon since, except that piece by piece, bit by bit, he held onto some small shred of himself during the transformation. Trent Ikithon had explained that all this was for Bren's own good, that he was safer here than anywhere else. that there were vampires who would tear him apart on sight, one in particular, a singular monster who Trent seemed to have a personal loathing for. Bren tried to probe why any vampire, never mind a particular one, would have any interest in him. No explanation was ever given except that 'the Shadowhand will never have you. Not in this life or the next. I will see to that.'

Bren had no idea what that meant. Before all this, the only strange thing in his life were recurring dreams -- and oh they were beautiful things. Arms that were secure and safe around him, tender and gentle but not warm. The soft lilt of a voice that assured him everything would be well, that wherever he went he would be found again. Trent had hated the dreams and had done his best to cast them out of Bren's conscious awareness. Now they were barely shadows, things he could remember the feeling of more than the details. It hurt even trying to recall them, so he didn't.

This past moon Bren had made his escape after he transformed, finally aware enough of himself that he had his chance. He was free. That was the only thought in his mind right now and it repeated in echoed mantra over and over again as he tried to keep himself from spiraling into a breakdown. It had been years since he'd been out, actually out in the world, not kept with Trent Ikithon's control, trapped within the grounds of that monster's manor. He was, after all, Trent's pet project, for whatever reasons the old bastard had. It didn't matter. Back in that direction lay only pain and isolation. He wouldn't go back.

Of course, he didn't really have a plan to go forward either, really. Even before he'd been captured and turned, he hadn't had any family left, few friends, and he'd been out of the world for years now. He managed to ~~steal~~ find some clothes, ill-fitting, a coat that was too big on his underfed frame, a scarf wrapped about his neck. He was a mess, long copper hair in tangles past his shoulders, his beard untrimmed, a frantic fear in wide blue eyes as he tried to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to get his bearings. He couldn't let Trent find him again. This was freedom, and he would not give it up.

A soft meow caught his attention, and he looked up in surprise as a small orange tabby approached him. For the first time in a long while, Bren smiled.] Hello there... [The little creature sniffed his outstretched hand and headbutted his fingers. It was the first kind touch that he'd known in so long, he almost teared up over it.] Well, at least I am not alone anymore. That's comforting.

[Now if he could just figure out what the hell he was going to do, where he was going to go.]

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[Bren was distracted with his new found friend, the first beginnings of a smile starting over his face -- though it felt strange, as if those muscles had been so unused these past few years that they had begun to atrophy. Being out, being free was overwhelming in a way, the world so big without stone walls and locked doors around him. He was somewhere between exhilaration and terror, though stronger than any of those was the determination not to be going back to Trent's clutches. Ever again.

So the sound of a voice sent a jolt of fear through him. The cat climbing up to his shoulder soothed that slightly. It was an oddly familiar feeling, and Bren moved to stand, supporting this strange, warm cat as he did. He forced himself to take a breath. None of Ikithon's people would be out here looking for a cat.]

Frumpkin? Is that you?

[A quiet murmur as if he half expected the feline to answer. He hesitated though. He hesitated though, not sure if he should try to flee or hide from the approaching voice. Now he could hear the sounds of a horse. If he can he could be run down easily.

By the time Essek came into view, he'd find a gaunt, wide-eyed man, looking both hunted and haunted, dark circles that somehow served to make eyes even bright blue than their usual. He was still exhausted from the full moon the night before. No, he couldn't run, and so he froze, eventually managing to find his voice a moment later.]

Is... is this your cat?

[ Essek had his hunting grounds and this was not one of them. He tended to poach in clubs and bars where he could charm those with his beauty, where a simple human would not be missed, and when they returned-- it would be paler but none-the-worse for wear. He had a weakness for redheaded men with blue eyes, though they never were who he was looking for and so he took sustenance and moved on, just a nibble here and there. So the hooves of the steed did not speed up in the slightest, rather effecting a leisurely pace as he moved into the clearing.

And then he saw Frumpkin, that permanent aura glow about him, tail twitching and rubbing up against.. a dirty excuse of a? Essek did not know what to call it. The man looked utterly downtrodden, certainly not worth his time in hunting, hair that was dull against the light of the newly waning moon. And a beard that seen better days.

Essek could not control Frumpkin or the decisions that he made, nor did he want to be the keeper of a cat, not really. They had an acceptable arrangement betwixt them, a live and let live-- and if Frumpkin choose to hang around with-- a hobo? Well that was on Frumpkin. ]

In a manner of speaking, yes-- though are cats ever truly owned?

[ He looked down at the other man and then lightly rested his reigns against his lap where he had chosen to sit side-saddle this evening, it depended on the outfit he was wearing-- and today it was pants tight enough that riding astride would likely not be the best idea, nor very comfortable. ]

You have encroached upon my property, however you may thank Frumpkin for his largesse and mercy.

[ And Frumpkin licked at Bren's ear, as if grooming the man, that ear quickly turned into the edge of a beard and Essek made a very distinct face at that ]

[The tension in Bren's posture didn't change all that much, though the worst edge of it eased slightly when it became clear that this man was clearly not one of Trent's people. There was an air of elegance about him that no one in Trent's employ could even hope to mimic never mind achieve. That voice though, it was liltingly soothing and familiar, like something from a dream, but when Bren tried to remember there was only that conditioned pain and he immediately winced and thought better of it.

Instead he gave the cat what he expected to be a final pet before trying to remove him to set him back towards the man on horseback. Frumpkin however had decided he was not leaving. Not good. He didn't want this man to think that he was stealing his cat. Bren gave a quick, furtive look around at where he was.]

I'm sorry, I did not know. I am... a bit lost. [More than a bit. He had no idea where he was. He was as far as the wolf could go the night before and as far as the human could manage once he'd recovered enough to move on his own two legs once more.]

But then... Danke Herr Frumpkin.

[Hesitantly, he stepped closer to the man on horseback, looking up at him curiously, that lingering fear draped over him like weighted chains, looking for all the world like a frightened creature that would flee at the slightest noise or sudden movement.] Which is the way to the nearest town? I will stop encroaching on your property. And on your cat.

[ This was.. highly regrettable. It seemed that Frumpkin had taken a liking to this man who stood there in a veneer of awkwardness and fear, oh gods-- he could smell the fear as if it was a charnel house 5 days without proper ventilation; in fact it appeared that this man similarly lacked ventilation if the scent could be believed.

Thankfully, Essek did not have to breathe. ]

If you wish to to go home with him Frumpkin, you may.. I am not your keeper.

[ The man stepped closer, the moon passed fleetingly from behind the cloud cover and casting this man in a single ray of light-- and hit those eyes just right, refracted prisms over sea and he paused. For a moment he was uncertain. It had been a century or two, but there was something familiar about him and in the way that the moonlight clung to him as if it loved him.

And thereby Essek was not entirely certain but there was a faint catch in his heart.

He had to known though.

Gracefully and silently he alighted from the horse, the other side. Giving the steed a light pat on the cheek before he stepped forward with measured footsteps. He had to know, and it really spoke to how well he managed to keep composure about him; there was no emotion that passed over his face as he very carefully approached. He did not want to scare this man before he had a chance to look into those eyes, and Frumpkin seemed to be keeping him calm enough. ]

Do you have money or coin? As I recall, the hotels and restaurants there tend to require such things.

Edited 2023-03-08 02:07 (UTC)

Oh, that... no, that would be a bad idea, kitty. I do not have... well.

[There was no home for Frumpkin to go to with him. Bren barely knew what he was doing next, and he would not condemn an animal, especially so cute and clever a cat as Frumpkin. He blinked briefly at the moonlight. As much as the moon ruled his life, and ruined it in many ways, it was also a comforting presence, regular and eternal in its waxing and waning.

He hesitated as this man dismounted, taking a small step back, his hold on the cat tightening as if Frumpkin were a security blanket. Closer now, he could see this stranger's face better, and he was beautiful -- like some fairytale creature stepped into the world and made real, sharp cheekbones and perfectly carved features. And again that flicker of familiarity before it was smothered by the programmed pain that chased it.

The question caught him off guard.] I... no, I do not. But I will manage, I'm sure.

[Why was his hart beating so far? And why did it ache?]

[ Frumpkin was clearly not listening to either of them. The soft comforting rumble of purr against Bren's cheek as well as an imperious gaze directed at Essek whom despite everything, could still scent the utter aroma of the other man. But he was able to get close enough to look into those eyes, and he saw the flicker of something there, something familiar. And suddenly that pain shot through him, deep and tenuous, like a fraying rope as he looked into those eyes and saw Caleb staring back at him from within those depths.

He was silent. Now able to take in the full tableaux that had been offered to him, the threadbare coat, the fraying scarf, a tunic that was mud-splattered. Underneath, he was sure that each rib could be counted like coins in a palm, and the frame was fearful and scared-- a far departure from the past but still this was-- he was. ]

You will come back home with me then and procure yourself a bath and a change of clothing as well as food. If you doubt my intentions, you may keep the cat with you as I can assure you he's unlikely to let you fall to harm. And in the morning once you are rested, you may continue your own journey but--

[ This was the Essek who took infinite charge, this was someone who had built his empire clearly and competently and brooked no arguments. ]

By the looks of it, it is doubtful that you shall make it to the next town without falling over yourself and there are pesky wolves in the area.

[Bren did not know what to make of being looked at this way, at that gaze that seemed to look straight through him. He felt frozen before it, eyes widening as he watched Essek. His fingers moved through Frumpkin's fur, more to comfort himself than anything else. It was almost working. A voice in his head still warned that he should run, flee now. Another impulse said to run straight towards this man, but that was confusing and unsettling.

And for all that he was already thrown off, he was more surprised by that offer.]

No I, couldn't. I am only passing through. I am...

[He went silent and ghostly white at the mention of wolves in the woods. Here was a werewolf who had been groomed to be terrified of the "pack" that he had been sired into.]

Perhaps... perhaps leaving tomorrow in the light is a better idea, ja.

[And a bath and food and clean clothes sounded amazing, like a small piece of heaven held forth and offered to him. He should be suspicious of an offer made so freely, but he was too tired to do it.]

[ Despite that composure, Essek was shook by the soft look in those eyes. Even more unsettling was the fact that this man was frightened of something, it was clear in the way that he seemed to jump at the barest touch of proximity, and the mention of wolves brought a paleness that had nothing to do with anything but real and sincere fear for something. A bitter and vile rage, hot and ugly filled his throat. This was his fire king and that spark? Where was it? Who had stolen it?

He'd kill them, tear out their throats and watch them bleed ribbons out onto the floor. The violence of such a thought filled him with just as much uneasiness as compared to the knowledge that he would do it in a heartbeat and revel within the rain of carnage that was their only just desserts.

Time though had given him self control and restraint and he merely inclined that head in acknowledgement while he started to lead the horse down the path away from Bren. Only obvious that he would continue the ride back to his manor on foot-- they were heading toward his villa just outside Rexxentrum, and mentally he realized that it was fate; the right place at the right time. ]

It is not a far walk and I am sure Frumpkin will be a kind host to you. You look like you have been through much and will further be improved upon bath and some food.

[ it was rather clear that Frumpkin was not leaving those arms, and perhaps he would've called him a filthy traitor however, Frumpkin knew more than even he gave him credit for ]

Nevertheless, I will find suitable clothes for you to wear and then we can burn the ones you are wearing now.

[ clean clothes meant scentless clothing which would make Bren more difficult to hunt, that too could be a boon ]

Edited 2023-03-08 03:41 (UTC)

[Bren found himself following this man, this beautiful stranger who had found him in the dark and made promises of safety and warmth and food. He'd read fairytales -- he'd read countless books -- and should know better than to trust fair-faced creatures in the nighttime woods and promises of gifts without payment. There was always some price to pay for anything, wasn't there?

Yet here he was regardless, in step beside the stranger and his horse. He cradled the cat close, focusing on the soothing sound of that purr les his anxiety get the better of him. This man, whoever he was, was not Trent Ikithon, and that made him the safer option by far.]

It has been a while since I have eaten. [Not since before the full moon. He'd been too busy running for his life.

When Essek commented on his clothes, he couldn't help a quiet laugh, looking down at himself.]

No? You do not like them? I suppose it leaves something to be desired. But it was better than wandering nude. That is frowned upon in polite society.

[ He was lost in thought, his mind whirling over how Frumpkin had known; of course he had known and his fingers clenched in the leading reigns. He could've kissed Frumpkin at this moment, but composure was his strong suit, it had come after so many years. Two hundred years ago, he'd had a temper and had barely managed to restrain it; time had at the very least given him that.

He was not the same person, sadly.

But that did not matter, not the feeling that was within his heart for the soul, like a bright flame though dimmed within those eyes. He held his head up and glanced over at Frumpkin who was purring in those arms as if he'd come home, or rather as if Caleb had. A stab of longing that only evidenced it in the the tightening of his jaw.

Food could be obtained, while Essek did not feed on such things-- many of his retainers did. It would be a simple matter to obtain something from the kitchens to have sent to Bren within his rooms. ]

There is not very much that I do like. [ Essek said this flippantly as he led them both down the path which adopted a very clear path after a fashion. Everything was eerily silent however thankfully the sound of howling did not penetrate this sanctuary, he had installed wards to protect against whatever Trent Ikithon had going on though he knew that Trent regularly sent people to test those wards with depressingly stupid regularity.

Finally through the clearly into green lawn and before them arose a mansion rising within the darkness, some parts dark but others alit with lights. A circular driveway that led to the stables on the outskirts which is the route that he took. The house held stories and spires, there was something timeless about it, of course there was-- this had been his and Caleb's home, though within the centuries, changes had been made, things had been updated.

Now instead of a carriage, there was parked a zemnian-made sportscar in a sleek purple which was probably worth a couple thousand platinum, at the very least. ]

Once I have my mount taken care of, we shall get you situated in a room for the night. [ Approaching the stables, one of the stable hands came out and effortlessly took the reigns with a very precise bow. ] I think that a food, bath and clothes, in that approximate order.

[Bren held the cat close, a feline security blanket that he was not ready to relinquish, certainly not if Frumpkin was willing to stay with him. Something about him was surprisingly comforting, again that flicker of familiarity.

The same that he felt when he looked to the stranger who was so generously taking him in. Bren's mind may not remember -- had specifically been conditioned away from remembering -- but unbeknownst to the redhead, his soul did. His heart and soul remembered all too clearly, and it was enough that he could feel the worst of his fear ebbing as they walked on. For tonight at least he'd be safe from Trent's wolves, safe from being taken back to that terrible place. But it felt even safer than that, and he wasn't sure what to make of that feeling.

He was puzzling over that thought right up until the house came into view. Except no, this wasn't a house. He'd seen houses, lived in houses. This was just shy of a palace, a sprawling mansion that stopped Bren straight in his tracks. This estate looked perfectly suited to the elegant drow who'd been out on horseback in the evening woods.

Hesitating, he looked to Essek.]

This is your home?

[A glance down at himself and the general state of... well, everything about him. No, he did not belong in a place like this at all, did he?] Perhaps the bath first.

Do not be ridiculous--

[ Essek flickered a glance at the hollow cheeks of the redhead, how they made him appear gaunt and worn out, like a wraith. It did not take x-ray vision to understand that underneath the shirt that was meant to be fitted, clearly was hanging on him and if one pressed the fabric against ribs, he would see them enumerated clearly as if they were a beacon for malnutrition.

He was angry but he did not show it, rather cast the other man a indolent aside. ]

You do not look like you have had a proper meal in weeks, a tray can easily be sent up to your rooms.

[ He talked to the cat then, his eyes on the cat with those eyes that were quite serious even though it was a bit ridiculous to boot. ]

Frumpkin, bunt your head against this man's cheek if he needs a bath, bite his wrist if he should be fed first.

[ Ahaha, as if the cat should even be able to make that distinction, except the cat glanced over at Bren with those illuminated eyes, then leaned in, gave a single lick to wrist before he bit it.. though not firmly enough to hurt but rather just enough to get an attention. After that came the bunting of the head against the cheek. Frumpkin had easily decided the fate of this man.]

Well then, Frumpkin has decided it-- come on.. [ A single beat them ] Your name?

Edited 2023-03-08 23:38 (UTC)

[Bren blinked at that. Was it so ridiculous? Bren could admit he was hungry, yes. He'd been on the run since the full moon, and even before that Trent seldom fed him enough to do anymore than survive, and even then barely that. It kept him weak and easily controllable, or so the bastard thought.]

Longer than weeks... [He admitted in a low whisper. Essek did have him on that.

And apparently so did the cat. His eyebrows lifted as the other man instructed Frumpkin as if he expected the feline to understand. Clearly he did. Bren squawked in surprise as he was so gently bitten.]

I am ganged up on by a cat.

[But he pet said cat with nothing but affection as he turned a sheepish ghost of a smile up to Essek. This man was showing him more kindness than anyone had in years, more than he even came close to deserving.]

Well, I cannot argue with Frumpkin. That would be poor manners.

[He hesitated at the question of his name. He was no one. That was the truer answer, and he considered giving an alias, but instead he answered with the simple truth.]

Bren. [He ducked his head.] And I'm very grateful for your hospitality. I fear it may be some time before I can pay you back for it.

I have learned never to argue with Frumpkin, he is generally right.

[ and as they walked side by side then toward the house, Essek cast a glance up at Bren with a wry smile that was a little bit warmer than previous smiles had been, still cautious and reserved-- a trifle on the cool side but not icy anymore. The smile made him remember and he could feel his cool cheeks want to heat, but unfortunately because it had been a day since he'd fed, his cheeks were not as warm and would resist such a bodliy function. ]

I am Lord Thelyss, as far as paying he back for hospitality; you did not run off with my cat so perhaps it is well earned, you look rather like you wanted to and I would not blame you.

[ He knew conceivably that Frumpkin would never be held against his will, he was of the Feywild after all, but still Bren did not know that so it was a good altruistic reason to hide behind aside from the whole 'you are my reincarnated lover' angle that wanted to ply from his lips ]

[Bren found himself rather stunned by that smile, his heart tripping over itself as it hammered away in his chest as if banging on the cage of his ribs for him to pay attention, to realize, to remember. It nearly stopped him in his tracks, but his own expression softened, a brighter and more genuine smile than had been on his face in a long time, so long the muscles had almost forgotten how to make the expression.]

Lord Thelyss... [The smile was replaced by shock and surprise. Even Bren, one of the least fashionable person in the Zemni Fields knew who Essek Thelyss was. Well, no wonder the drow wanted to burn his clothes.]

Ah... not committing a crime is a rather low bar.

[But Bren would not argue it. More and more he did not want to give himself a reason to leave this man's company, and not only because of his fear of the wolves that may be prowling the night in search of him.]

[ Lord Thelyss of Thelyss Designs, the Exandria-renowned fashion designer who set the style; there were several rumors about the rather introvert designer but all of them had always been unverified. To Bren, likely he would know the basics that others would know, that he was the grandson of the originator of the fashion house-- but none of the real details. That was infinitely convenient and not important, and well Essek did not want to explain anything further then what may casually come up in conversation.

Up the fine marble steps they went as the house loomed closer and the clock tower chimed 1 am, a lilting sonorous sound. He allowed his fingers to graze against the balustrade as they walked side by side. ]

I can handle crimes, I cannot handle cat-napping.

[ a teasing smile, a slow thawing as the doors swung open the closer they got as if by some unseen and magical source. The butler was there to glean the orders and Essek started to give directives with an efficiency that was a boon to the capable, letting Bren sit back and not have to think, only enjoy the fact that everything would be taken care of. Meanwhile Frumpkin settled in those arms with no real reason to move, a purring happy mess of a cat as he worked his bond slowly over the man.

If Frumpkin noticed Bren's werewolf state during the prying, it would be for the most part kept a secret. ]

The Amber Room will be occupied for the time being, please have a tray food sent up as well as some pajama pants for sleepwear.

[ A bath would be in order as Essek had promised but first food, Bren clearly needed it, more than he needed to be clean, and on others Essek would never endure the subtle stentch but this was different ]

[Somehow he'd escaped from Trent's clutches, fled on foot with no idea where he was going and found his way to the estate of one of the most famous names in the fashion industry. Bren didn't understand any of it, he had simply run. If he thought back on it more closely, maybe he would consider that he had been pulled in this direction, to this place. But that was ridiculous. He had never been to this place before, nor anywhere so fancy or elegant.

Bren followed Essek up the stairs and inside, brightening up once again at the smile the other man fixed on him, like it was some sort of unstoppable chemical reaction.]

I suppose cat-napping is particularly abhorrent.

[The werewolf -- who desperately wanted to hide the fact that he was, in fact, a werewolf -- fell silent when the butler appeared, watching in wary curiosity. He was waiting for someone to convince Lord Thelyss that he was out of his mind bringing an absolutely filthy hobo into his home. But that didn't happen.

So he turned to rub his cheek against Frumpking's fur, murmuring a soft string of endearments in Zemnian about what an excellent kitty he was.]

Thank you for all this. [This time he spoke to Essek rather than the cat.] It's... it's been a long time since someone has offered kindness. I'm grateful.

[ There was only minute surprise at the term Amber Bedroom, a room that Essek rarely opened. There were times where he hosted house parties here, once in a blue moon but the Amber Bedroom had always been sacred and no one was ever given it, but of course Bren would not know that, could not know that. It was a room that got the best of the morning light, with the amber glow peeking through the curtains, but Essek had never seen why it had been given that name, never would

'what I would not give to see you with the dawn, ussta'chaithu' and the ensuing embrace, arms around his waist and the press of a face against his cool neck, the retort, 'I am yours by dawn, day, twilight and night, even if are not there to see it'

A clench rolled through him at that, deep and hot-- a surface memory so deep and that sliced through the ice, just a little bit, of his heart. He nodded then and then started up the curving stairs, the house was far warmer than the man who owned it. The butler behind them hurried away to rouse the kitchens while Essek would show the man to his rooms. ]

I understand matters of pride quite well, Bren; and I do not offer kindness to everyone. When people refer to me, the term 'kind' or 'altruistic' never come into the conversation; however I do have several tasks that I have left too long un-attended to and we may discuss if perhaps you are suitable to the endeavor.

[ A library of books in disarray, for a few hundred years because it had been his and Essek had not the wherewithal to touch them when ever spine held a memory. Of slipping in to wrap his arms around his lover's shoulders, soft moments in front of the fire as they cuddled and his lover read aloud to him or the press of body against shelf as his teeth buried in flesh and pleasure arched between them in between the panting gasping moans of his mate as he claimed him. ]

Edited 2023-03-09 11:41 (UTC)

[Bren did not understand the significance of the Amber Bedroom, but it sounded far fancier than he likely deserved. He was not going to protest anything that Essek was kind enough to provide right now. This was far better fortune than he had any right to expect, and he needed the help right now. Desperately. But more than that, something in him felt like he needed to be close to the drow. Everything about the other man is almost frighteningly enthralling.

Following close behind, Bren couldn't stop his gaze from roaming everywhere, taking in every detail that he could. This place seemed ancient but new at the same time, somewhat like his host.]

Tasks? [The protests of being kind wasn't something Bren could believe, not with how generous Lord Thelyss was being to a a frankly filthy hobo.]

If there is work here... yes, I could do that.

[At least until the next full moon. He'd have to leave before then. But until then he'd have a place to stay, warm and fed and safe.]

[ We would see if Frumpkin let Bren go; that unfortunately was beside the point. Right now Essek knew that the other man felt strange and ill-at-ease here within this miniature palace. A valid point really since it could be daunting, the stairs and the neverending cooridoors; the winding stairs that went around and around leading up to turreted chambers that were secreted by time.

The Amber rooms were in the same wing but different side. Where the Amber rooms got much sunlight, the Amethyst was not given such a luxury, as it was swathed and drapped in perpetual darkness from it's placement within the house, a room with no windows, just as he preferred. ]

My library has been in disarray since my ah.. husband passed away, and requires a bit of attention. Perhaps you may set it to rights?

[ That was a test of course, to see how Bren reacted to books. Was this really Caleb, had the soul been reincarnated properly? It felt like an almost loaded question ]

You would be left to your own devices during the day of course, as I keep nighttime hours; but this is something that we may discuss when I wake up tomorrow evening--

[Bren's eyes lit up, that cerulean blue brightening as if the sun was breaking across the summer sky. He turned to look at Essek, trying and failing to hold back at least some of his excitement.]

You have a library? [Could he see it? He very much wanted to see it, though perhaps after a meal and a bath and clothes that would be best.]

I. Ja, I would be able to help with that. [Calmer, Bren. No need to seem too eager. It might put the rich, gorgeous man off and make him second guess having him here, or allowing him to help with the books.]

I would like that, very much. I am good with books. I am sure I could sort it out. [And read the books. He would like to read the books. May he read the books? He would read the books anyway, especially if left to his own devices. Reading would probably help with rearraying the disarray.

He did pause to look curious. A night person? Well, he did meet the man on a moonlight ride. Maybe that wasn't surprising. Strange maybe, but not surprising.]

[ The response was circumspect but the deep anticipatory energy arced out like the synergetic crackle of a energy storm over the distance, just under the surface that beautiful lightning only barely touching clouds. But there was also a simmering fire underneath the surface, a thirst for knowledge that had been one of the best things about his lover; the insatiable hunger for books and learning that had driven him.

Perhaps some of that had driven him to his doom; which made Essek feel guilty because he, he should've been there-- if he had been there, he could've.

But he would not curtail that which gave this man life as well and he offered a rather wry smile in response while he guided them down the wing that housed most of his private living quarters, finally though he approached a door on which was affixed a bright yellow amber stone deeply within the center; it glowed just underneath the low light of the corridor. He pushed it open and then motioned for Bren to enter, a soft smile caressing against his lips.

The room glowed warmly, it was large enough that it could comfortably house a sitting area just before a partition that would lead to the bed dias. Soft dark amber curtains swathed windows from two sides and the softer amber combined with dark woods in cherry, a warm fire was settled in the hearth-- a magical fire that always burned for sentimental reasons known only to Essek. ]

We will discuss then the details and I will show you the library after you eat and bathe, those are more pressing matters to attend to, yes.

[ And because appearances must be kept ]

In the state you are in right now, I will not let you touch any of the books.

Of course, yes. I would not blame you.

[Bren nodded in full understanding, though not without the faint rise of a blush across his cheeks, something touching on shame. He had not seen a mirror in a long time even before he'd escaped, and he knew that the clothes he had managed to scavenge were covered in dirt after his continued flight through the woods, away from anything approaching civilization until he had been certain he was far enough away from Trent Ikithon. He was a mess at the moment, bedraggled and worse for the wear, but he had pinned his hopes on a meal and a bath significantly improving that. A pair of scissors and a razor would not go amiss either.

He was distracted from these thoughts by stepping into what was a shockingly lavish room. Everything about it was soft and warm, glowing with an inviting aura that drew the exhausted werewolf in like a promise of respite and safety.

He felt like he had come home, which was strange given he'd never set foot in anywhere so beautiful as this manor before. His eyes caught on the fire in the fireplace, already burning, already casting warmth into the room.

Standing in the center, Bren wrapped his arms around himself as if he were half afraid to touch anything in here, as lovely as it all was.]

This is beautiful. [He couldn't help but ask, with a glance to the fire.] Were you expecting guests?

[ To be honest, Essek was not as disturbed by Bren's filth. A little yes, and the stench was still rather strong but Essek was slowly figuring out that this was not something that Bren had any sort of control over; that was forgivable. It only sent an ache of rage which he could let simmer on the backburner. No, firstly and most importantly was to get those basic needs met; needs that no one should not have to fight for and certainly not his reincarnated husband.

The question took him by surprise as he looked at the fire in the hearth, how it crackled and how it always seemed to smell of cloves and ginger. Like some unseen ghost of memory was casting the things that Caleb loved the best into those warm flames. He started to clear off the table, delicately picking up Caleb's favorite book, Der Katzenprinz and then moving it off onto the sofa settled comfortably before the fire.

To make room for the tray that would very soon be brought up. ]

My late husband said that the hearth was the soul of a home and so a fire is kept burning in his honour-- in this very room. I do not have unexpected guests often and it was the only room unfortunately with a fire lit inside of it, however this is as good a room as any.

[ Essek slid his own hands together then and watched as Frumpkin finally hopped down to loaf by the fire, now seemling content that Bren was given this room and casting the tired man a slow-blink of affection. That filled Essek with fondness, it felt familar and he could feel his own entire being with a nostalgia that he had to school his features of. ]

You may look around, I will go ahead and pre-run a bath for you, dinner should be here very soon. There are a few books in the bookcase.. [ Caleb's smut novels, of course ] which you are free to read as suits your taste.

[ Essek was going to run the bath for scalding and then it would be warm enough to enter by the time this tired hobo man actually ate something ]

[Bren's eyes caught on that book -- one that he'd loved as a child, the pang of something that ran even deeper than simple nostalgia. He shifted closer by inches towards the fire burning so warmly in that hearth, sighing a soft relieved sound at the wash of that heat over him, as if the heat from the fire itself could cleanse him.

He looked back as Essek spoke. Oh.

Was it really okay for him to stay in this room then, given that symbolism.]

It's a very good room, nicer than I have ever seen.

[Really. He'd be fine in a coat closet with a blanket at this point, but he would not turn down a real bed and a warm fire. He hesitated before saying, softly.]

I'm sorry, for your loss.

[It was clear that however long ago that Lord Thelyss had lost his husband, so much of the man was still here. The burning fire, the untouched library. But Bren knew that love could inhabit hearts and homes long after death parted lovers.

Ducking his head in gratitude, he offered another grateful smile, small and tentative like he was still getting the hang of the expression again.]

Thank you. If it is not too much to ask, scissors and a razor would be very much appreciated.

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