for Dorian (makingmyway)

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

(( continuation of this au ))





[It has been a hell of a night. This isn't exactly unusual, really. Orym realizes he's lucky enough to have a roof over his head given the debt that he owes, and if he doesn't work, that debt won't pay off itself. But he's still ready to call it a night and deal with the repercussions of that come tomorrow.

His last client had been... unkind. He has a reputation for being able to handle himself, despite his size, so it's not a surprise that he winds up with clients who have a taste for rough. And he can handle himself, but that doesn't mean he isn't sore and exhausted and worn down by it.

There's a large bruise in the shape of a hand at his throat, that he has tried to hide with a collar of ivy and flowers, bitemarks and other assorted bruises that are only mostly hidden by the scant clothing that he's currently wearing. He had to come out long enough to be on stage or he might have stayed in his room after the man left. But dancing is fine; he likes the dancing. He can fall into the music, into the feeling of letting his body move to the rhythm, let the rest of his thoughts fall away. It reminds him of combat in a way, and there's some familiarity in that.

But dancing done, he hops down from the stage and looks around, very ready to stealth off, when a flash of blue stops him in his tracks. Is that..? Did he actually come back?]

Comments

[makingmyway]

[ If Dorian is being honest with himself, he had been thinking of Orym a lot after his initial trip to the brothel. Like a lot. Perhaps more than was strictly healthy. But he couldn’t get the image of the halfling out of his mind - of his gentle touches, or charming smile, or kind and bright eyes - or from his dreams when he tried to settle down for the night.

Trying to find time to return had been an issue. While he was sure that he and Cyrus had gotten back that night unnoticed, their parents had seemed to suspect they had been up to something in the days that followed. So they had given them both more work to do, adding to their responsibilities, and along with the usual politics, societal gatherings and networking, days turned into weeks turned into months before Dorian had any free time.

But with his parents away on business for a week, he finally had some time to slip away to see Orym again. He had arrive just near the tail-end of the halfling’s dance, but he had been as graceful and beautiful as Dorian remembered him. He’d been among many of the enthusiastic patrons cheering for him when he’d finished his routine.

And he would have gone immediately to the stage to see Orym if not for getting intercepted by another worker, trying to entice him to share their bed, and him struggling with how to politely decline their company without offending them by saying he was here to see someone else. ]

[bigmoonlittlemoon]

[It's been a few months since the blissful week that Dorian was able to spend so much time with him, and Orym isn't at all surprised that his feelings for the Air Genasi haven't faded at all. If anything, he's found himself falling deeper and deeper for Dorian, through late night chats via the sending stones, through the visits that the other has been able to make, even if they are nowhere near as frequent as Orym would wish. It's still enough to provide a bright spot in his life.

His boss likes to remind him that he can't simply wait for his prince to come. He may have had a honeymoon week, but she assures him that the handsome blue nobleman will tire of him eventually, that he had better not forget the debt he owes. She makes certain that the halfling remembers his place in all this, and it chips away at some of that impossible hope that keeps trying to take root in Orym. But it's a stubborn hope that won't be so easily uprooted.

He's finishing on stage one night when he's summoned to the madame's office. Everything that happens after that is a blur. He's informed that his debt has been purchased, that he'll now be in the service of this new benefactor, and he'll be leaving immediately. He starts to protest that he can't just leave, but it's made clear that it is non-negotiable. He's not even allowed to go to his room, assured that his things will be packed at sent along. Orym tries not to panic. His sword and shield are there, of course. But also the sending stone. How will he contact Dorian and tell him what's happened? How will he tell him that he'll never see him again?

That thought settles like a lead weight in him, and it's a very subdued, quiet halfling that is bustled out of the brothel to wherever his new destination will be. He's welcomed by servants who seem kind enough, though with a certain brusque efficiency. He's bathed and dressed in fine clothes, far nicer than he's ever worn, in the regalia colors of this strange and beautiful floating city that he's been taken to. And then he's left to wait in a bedroom that is larger and brighter than where he's lived for the last few years, soft linens drape over a large bed, a pair of glass doors that open to a balcony currently bathed in the soft gold light of the late afternoon sun.

He's told to wait, and so he waits. And he tries not to think about Dorian, but it's impossible.

Meanwhile, the mastermind behind this whole series of events is strolling the halls of the Wyvernwind home looking so intensely pleased with himself. Cyrus, after not too much detective work, has figured out why his little brother seems so distracted and wistful lately. He's been pining and in love and after following him stealthily (somehow) on one outing, he's realized that Brontë's gone and fallen for the pretty halfling he met at the brothel.

And that's something Cyrus can do something about! Right? So he does. He purchases Orym's debt, so that Orym can come away from that place. That way Brontë doesn't have to miss him! This is fool proof, clearly. It's a love story, right? It must be. He watched the way Orym lit up when he saw Brontë arrive the time that he followed him, saw the way they both looked at each other. It's so obvious. Even he's seen it.

Cyrus knocks on his brother's door, and when he answers, insists on dragging him off to see a surprise that he has for him.]

It's in here. Go ahead, go inside.