Date Posted:18:44:07 04/17/02 Wed Author:Tristan and Rowan Subject: Who's the slave around here? In reply to:
Marz and co.
's message, "Passing time in the tower" on 10:08:27 04/17/02 Wed
Tristan threw a smirk at Marz when Noyko answered Rowan’s question, saying that his future plans consisted solely of serving his new Ryuujin master. Marz made a face at that, and Rowan actually gave the newcomer a disapproving look. Tristan frowned, and was about to tell them to back off again, but Marz suddenly got bossy and asserted that both Noyko and Ablina needed baths. Because the pair did look fairly dirty and scruffy around the edges, Tristan wasn’t going to argue with him about it. Of course, he wasn’t exactly in the habit of really ever going against Marz’s orders, but that was beside the point.
Once in the basement, Tristan moved to perch on a rock next to Rowan, who kept making snide little comments about the great and mighty Ryuujin. He wondered if the elf’s only purpose in coming was to piss him off, and he gladly moved over a bit so Marz could join them after awhile. The ex-gang leader said something about a deck of cards before pausing and shifting his attention back over to the underground stream, where Noyko stood bathing. The three of them stared for a few appreciative seconds, during which Tristan could literally sense Marz’s growing desire. He was a little ashamed of his own body’s reaction to the sight, too, and that was the only reason he didn’t snap at his lover for his remarks about Noyko’s rather pleasing figure.
Tristan tore his eyes away from the naked youth and stared at his boots instead. He was pretty proud of his ability to avoid temptation like that, and found himself wondering why Marz couldn’t possess the same sort of discipline. But he knew that asking Marz not to lust after other people so much would be like asking him to stop breathing. Maybe if he knew how much it really hurt me he’d at least try, he thought with a tiny sigh.
He looked up when Noyko finished dressing and approached them, his recently scraggly appearance gone to reveal a very pleasant, handsomely exotic expression. Tristan found himself warming up to the youth in a way that he rarely reserved for newcomers—but that warmth quickly turned cold when Noyko open his mouth.
“Would you like me to bathe you now, Ryuujin?” he asked solemnly. Tristan flushed immediately, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his belly. He felt Marz’s arm come around him possessively, which made him feel a bit better for some reason. “Sorry pal,” his lover shot back, “He only let’s ME bathe him.”
“Marz!” Tristan whispered, aghast at such a bold statement, and then he automatically felt stupid for being alarmed. Actually, he was the one who’d bathed Marz once, or had at least washed his hair for him in an inn a couple weeks ago. Their love had been very new at the time (really, it still was now), and Tristan had blushed continuously like the wool-headed idiot he was.
Tristan missed Noyko’s depressed look when Marz corrected him, although he was acutely aware of the arm still around his waist. The two of them moved ahead out of earshot, while Noyko walked beside Rowan. It was really almost all Rowan could do to not push the gorgeous youth up against the wall and explore every inch of that beautiful body of his, but he held back admirably. Besides, the boy likely wouldn’t resist, but that was only because he still considered himself a slave, and that thought didn’t sit too well with Rowan. He wanted his lovers to want him back, and since there was nothing remotely arousing about a possibly unwilling partner for him, he was able to keep control of himself. Anyway, he was pretty sure he could convince Noyko to warm up to him eventually, so there really wasn’t any hurry at the moment.
“Is Marz an equal?” the boy suddenly asked, wisely keeping his voice low. “Or is he simply a favored slave of the Ryuujin?”
Rowan choked on his own laughter, not wanting to alert the dragon and his lover just ahead of them. “Yeah, he’s favored, all right,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “And I’d wager he’s a bit of a slave, too. That damned Ryuujin of yours keeps him wrapped around his little finger, Noyko.”
A really nasty thought came to his mind then, and he nodded toward Tristan. “I’m fairly certain he wants out of it. Look how Marz tries to claim him like that, putting his arm around him and leading him about. The Ryuujin is anxious to get away from him, but he doesn’t know whom to turn to. I myself am not bold enough to challenge Marz for his favor, but a strong, clever, handsome boy like yourself, well,” He gave him a knowing wink, “I’d say you’re a sure shot, kiddo.”
Tristan kept stealing glances at them, trying to figure out what they were discussing, but Rowan spoke too low for even his ears to catch. Back upstairs, he felt a brief flaring of annoyance when Marz released him to scoop the newly cleaned up little girl into his arms. Once again, Tristan crossed his own arms and glared at the pair, a jealous feeling washing over him. He was tempted to order Noyko to slap the shit out of his lover, but decided that probably would have more of a negative effect on their relationship than a positive one.
“Do you think I’m pretty?” Ablina asked, turning her apparently heart-melting expression toward Marz. “You’re the prettiest girl I know,” Marz replied, making Tristan narrow his eyes, though he wasn’t quite growling yet. “That deck of cards is on the dresser in the bedroom across from the one we were in earlier,” his lover said, turning to him. “Why don't you go get it then see if there's anything else in there that Ablina might like to play with.”
“I really want a doll to take care of.”
Marz’s answering laugh made Tristan bristle with jealousy, his fists clenching as the growl finally worked its way up his throat. “I think someone just fell out of favor with the Great Ryuujin,” Rowan said to Noyko, though he kept his eyes on Tristan while he laughed.
“Shut up!” Tristan snapped. He whirled around and stalked out of the kitchen, his movements very stiff as he made his way to the bedroom Marz had pointed out. “Stupid little bitch,” he muttered to himself, as he scooped up the deck of cards on the table and shoved it into his pocket. “How the hell am I supposed to know what she’d like to play with?”
His eyes searched the room, but all he could see were the two beds, a dresser, and a small table with some chairs in the center. He continued grumbling to himself as he walked on over to the wall closet, opening the door and peering inside. There was a great jumble of clothes within, a few pairs of boots, some books and other useless junk. But the only remotely interesting thing was the small trunk pushed up against the side of the wall. Tristan knelt down beside the thing and tried to pry it open, grunting slightly as it finally snapped open with a protesting groan. Something sparked into the air, smelling vaguely of magic, the burning sensation tickling his sensitive nose. Probably a spell, though either it had malfunctioned or had been too simple to have any sort of notable reaction on his own powerful dragon magic.
Inside, there were all sorts of strange artifacts. He picked up a couple rather heavy tomes, sneezing as he leafed through the yellowed pages, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand the pictures above the Nerombian captions. After placing those aside, he withdrew a talisman, swinging from the end of a chain. He examined it closely and was greatly surprised to see the likeness of a dragon etched into its center. Smiling stupidly, he put it around his neck, stuffing it under his shirt so no one would see. It didn’t seem to have any noticeable magical properties, so he figured it couldn’t hurt to wear it.
He dug deeper, a feeling of satisfaction coming to him as he pulled out what looked like a stuffed doll. The thing was sewn together very meticulously, although the face had no eyes, mouth, or nose. Everything else was perfectly anatomically correct however. Tristan wasn’t stupid, though, he recognized the little needles pointing out of various parts of its body and quickly withdrew them, (or at least the ones he could find, anyway).
“There, you annoying little brat,” he muttered, “Just what you always wanted.”
He shut the trunk and got to his feet, hurrying out of the room and back into the kitchen. He sighed when he saw Marz, still holding the child in his lap, a grin plastered on his face as he conversed teasingly with her. We could be spending time together right now, Tristan thought, surprised at the hurt feeling welling up within him. He suppressed it quickly and moved to sit down next to them, setting the deck of cards on the table.
“Here,” he said simply, passing the doll to Ablina, “And don’t bitch at me because of the face. It’s all I could find.”
Rowan reached out and took the cards, shuffling them before passing the appropriate number out to each of the people there and explaining the rules to Noyko. Tristan stared at the set of cards sitting before him and shook his head. “I’m not playing,” he said with a shrug, “I’ll help Marz.”
“Can it, pussy cat,” Rowan said, rolling his eyes, “If Noyko over here can have a mind of his own, then so can you. Try to do something by yourself for a change.”
Tristan huffed to himself and picked up his cards, his eyes shifting to Marz. “All right,” he agreed, “But no bets.” He poked his lover in the side. “You always lose. And you can’t even count properly.”
“You gonna take that shit from him?” Rowan asked, his eyes glittering strangely as he stared across the table at Marz. His expression made Tristan feel uncomfortable, and he shifted a bit in his seat until the elf returned his attention to Noyko. “Do you understand how to play?” he asked, flashing the youth a companionable smile.
