[Tzilan had only said it was a small estate on the coast in Outer Nuren, but Saralegui had managed to find it easily enough. A good thing, too, as he wasn't sure he would have managed otherwise with an armful of bleeding dragon to distract him.
Even he could tell it probably wasn't anything life threatening -- just a cut down her leg and side, a bit deep but not near anything that seemed vital -- but the feel of warm blood under his hands was distressing. At least the little dragon seemed to be built like a bird, and didn't weigh much despite her size.
Tzilan had also said he was only available in during the evenings and nights. Saralegui remembered that distantly as he actually found the door, and tried to wave away any doubts and worried of what he'd do if the man wasn't home. The sun was already dripping down below the horizon, surely that was late enough?
He had to shift his little dragon to one arm -- a bit of a struggle on its own, because she wasn't that lightweight and she whined at the jostling, claws digging into his shoulder as she shifted to support herself -- to bang on the door. He would have preferred a more pleasant first visit, of course, but too late now.]
[ Like a shark, the scent of blood could stir him from great distances. A bright, red point on his awareness, awakening hunger, filling him with tension and buzzing energy like a plucked bowstring.
He was already marching towards the door, drawn towards it like a magnet when he heard the pounding. There were no lights; it was too early yet for the servants to have arrived to light them, and to effect the outward display of life and movement which should fill a manse of this size. Instead, it was just Tzilan and Ratha, who was small enough to easily glide through the massively wide grand hall to a great iron perch beside the door.
He folded his wings and hissed at the noise of the door, the short fins and rills along his horned head flaring. ]
Quiet, Ratha, we shall have guests,
[ Murmured the vampire, but inwardly he wanted to hiss too-- in excitement, warm anticipation-- and he cast open the door.
Assessed the situation with a look and pressed his lips together. Opened the door wider and waved the pale man in hurriedly. ]
We shall dispense with greetings until after she is addressed. Follow me, and tell me what happened to cause this.
[Saralegui's attention was distracted as the door opened, first by the man opening it, and then by the dragon perched beside it. His own dragon pulled him back to the present quickly enough, with a small trill of recognition for the stranger who'd spent a good while petting her.
Mercifully, he was allowed to duck inside immediately. A soft breath escaped him, mild relief at bypassing all the pleasantries and pleading.]
A scuffle with another dragon in the market. I didn't see it all.
[A brief, uncomfortable pause, and Saralegui glanced about the place as he moved through it with an almost embarrassed air.]
I wasn't sure what to do. [Who to go to, who could be trusted to handle this sort of thing well.]
[ Sweet little dragonling. It had no way to know that if he didn't see a potential wise investment in the young man before him, he would have drained her dry just to see what happened. But he stuffed his hunger down and away, focused on the task at hand. ]
I see. When our work here is done, you should tell me what you recall of the dragon and their master. I will submit a complaint to the authorities, and we may be able to wring out a small sort of justice.
But for now-- first aid. You should attend all we do and learn the basics of care; I doubt it will be the first wound your darling acquires, as she grows.
Water, first. A wound that isn't clean when it's wrapped will fester. You're fortunate she's so calm; many lesser dragons might be frantic or wild in their pain.
[ The room beyond the great double doors was a grand hallway that stretched for some time, wide enough to hold a number of people, with crumbling carven scenes on the vaulted ceiling and ancient, weather-worn statues flanking the walls between great tall, hauntingly clear mirrors.
None of them reflected Tzilan as he walked, and the black dragon which had hunched on a heavy post near the door hissed a gatorlike sound of interest, and took to wing to hurry after them, its leathery wings a quiet sound even trapped in the large space.
They had not walked for long when the mirrors between the statues became replaced by doors, and it was through one of these which Tzilan led Saralegui. In it was another hall, short and narrow, and with a long stride he led the other man to the door at its end. This hallway was empty, and smelled of dust, as if it had gone unoccupied for months. ]
There's a basin of water in my study I usually keep for mixing inks; and we'll find everything else we need there....
... do you think she would let me handle her, or would you be the one to bandage her?
[He wouldn't say she was calm. Honestly, she was kinda being a baby, whining and clinging the whole way down here. But that was better than panic, with claws like those, so he supposed he should't complain.
Saralegui was quiet as he followed, nodding absently at all the instructions as he looked around. It was an eerily pretty sort of place, more like a ruin than an estate. Again, the other dragon caught his eye, and he couldn't help but stare as it flew after them, demon black and elegant.
So caught up with the dragon, he only noticed the missing reflection just as they passed away from the mirrors, and had to wonder if he'd imagined it.]
She liked you well enough last time, and she's never been hostile. I'm sure you're fine.
[Probably. Though she had a vice-like grip on her master at the moment, and she gave a low screech as he tried to gently pry her claws away from his shoulder.
Still, she could only be better off in the hands of someone who actually knew what they were doing.]
[ Saralegui wasn't wrong in his assessment of their surroundings; some weeks ago, it had been a derelict place with a reputation for being haunted. Even with a repaired roof and the moss scrubbed away, it was eerie and empty without the noise of servants or guests or a proper household. And there was almost not a stick of furniture in sight, until Tzilan opened the door in question.
The walls were lined with bookshelves, and tall, thin painted-glass windows let uncertain evening light stream into the space. Sconces burned with blue-white flame, but produced only just enough light to illuminate the corners and not the roof. Writing instruments and open tomes and ledgers rest heavily on several big, well-carven desks of dark wood. Gargyles and lions and ivy traced up their sides.
Tzilan went towards one such desk, and a basin of water. From a drawer of the desk he produced a few large squares of fine blotting linen, and tossed one straightaway into the water, slipping himself into a straight-backed, wooden chair which had been cockeyed before the desk.
The black dragon had gone to the floor at the first door, and followed them like an interested hound, its heavy, wicked-looking claws clicking against the stone. It hissed with clever interest at the pale dragon's screeches and squalls, and nosed after the pale fabric of Saralegui's skirts and clothing, slitted nostrils flaring while it tried to parse out who he was and where he'd been. Hissed again, like a disturbed viper, and with batlike efficiency began to clamber up the side of the desk for a better vantage of the goings-on, deep claws gouging the fine woodwork. After all, the room had no perch...
Tzilan shot the black dragon an ugly scowl. ]
Ratha! Stubborn beast, I've taught you better manners. Incorrigible thing, he'll ruin anything trying to get a better vantage...
[ With a sigh, Tzilan opened his arms to Sara. ]
Here; let's see if she will come to me so I can have a better look. If not, you'll sit, and we'll wash and dress the wound with care.
[Saralegui stiffened as the other dragon investigated him -- not so much fear as an uncertainty of what else to do. Would moving be interpreted as a brush off, or an attempt to escape? He just remained still, peering down at it over Shima's wings, until it was apparently satisfied and moving to casually wreck the desk.]
Is that why the rest of this place is so empty?
[The only thing resembling furniture he'd seen outside this room was the perch by the door. He'd been faintly concerned the whole trip through the estate before coming to this actually lived-in looking room.
Nodding again, Saralegui moved to hand his little dragon over, only to be thwarted by her suddenly tightened grip and anxious whine. It was a little like having a small child latched onto his torso, only one with claws that scratched at his shoulders and were probably ruining this shirt. Ah well. The shirt was already bloodstained anyway.
Exasperated, and faintly embarrassed by the struggle:]
Let go.
[Perhaps she actually recognized the hint of scolding in his tone, as she finally eased her grip and let him pass her off to Tzilan. Still, she craned her neck to keep an eye on her master however she was moved, and Saralegui sighed, rolling his eyes at this fretting.]
Settle down. I'm not going anywhere, alright?
[Evidently, he'd gotten over the awkwardness of talking to a creature he didn't think really understood him.]
The manse is newly-acquired and still undergoing some additions and improvements. But... you're not wrong. Beastly creature would ruin anything I moved in.
[ Ratha lashed his tail like a cat and trilled a pleased, ululating hiss. Tzilan rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to (to his thinking) better-behaved Shima.
He watched the brief struggle without judgement, and accepted the squirming dragon very gently. Smoothed his dark fingertips along her neck, uninjured side, crooning quietly at her.
Ratha stared at all this with unblinking attention, breathing deep, tailtip twitching fretfully. ]
Pull the cloth out of the water in the basin and squeeze it out over the wound to wash it. Do this as many times as it takes for us to see how deep and wide it is. When that's done, you can use some of the cloth to dab at the blood around the wound, very gently. If it dries, it'll become uncomfortable, and she'll itch at it and might aggravate the wound.
[For his part, Saralegui was mildly jealous of the other man and his "beastly" dragon. It certainly seemed more independent than his extremely-attached Shima, and more powerful too. Perhaps it made his life easier in some ways to have a relatively easygoing and affectionate dragon, but he couldn't deny the appeal of this lovely, quietly dangerous presence.]
He seems well-behaved enough, besides being a menace to furniture.
[His tone was conversational as he took the cloth, trying to affect a casual air like he wasn't playing nurse to a goddamn dragon. With the first wringing out, Shima gave a little shriek and a start in Tzilan's lap, and Saralegui made a soft shushing sound without really thinking about it. Again with the water, and the little dragon squirmed with discomfort.]
He's a menace to more than furniture, that brute: so single-minded that the moment he has an idea in his head that nothing will deter him from it. Being willful and intelligent has made him quite difficult to train well.
[ He said it quietly and coolly, his eyes and attention focused at the task at hand. Whenever the dragonling in his lap squirmed overmuch, he crooned or pet or distracted her in a different way. The water, now, was sluicing down the cut and dampening the fabric of his clothing. ]
Now we can see it clearly, I don't think it's deep enough to need stitches. Just an antibacterial and a bandage. Ah...
Reach into the third drawer, there! Should be a small burlwood box, pull it out and open it up. Should have everything we might need.
There are worse things than being clever and single-minded.
[He should know.
Shima, at least, was mercifully less focused. She continued to twitch under the gentle streams of water, but was easily soothed with Tzilan's various distractions. Lucky, that Saralegui had found someone so good with these things. And who evidently didn't mind getting his clothes ruined by water tinged with blood.]
Ah...sorry about your clothes.
[He didn't truly feel all that apologetic, with greater concerns at the moment, but it never hurt to appear considerate. Saralegui tossed the apology over his shoulder as a compromise as he moved to get the box of supplies.]
While that's true, there's almost no worse vessel for such traits than young children or animals.
[ He lifted a slim brow at the dark dragon, who had ceased to pay attention to Tzilan in favor of leaning over the edge of the desk and watching what Saralegui did. Its long tail lashed, like a cat's. ]
The clothes aren't important. Are they, sweetling? You've been quite the charming patient, no biting or hissing at all.
[ He smoothly stroked the pale dragon's cheeks, followed along the line of her back, smiling almost to himself. And then looked up to Saralegui. ]
Flip it open. There should bee several small-- quite small-- little wells with screw-on lids. Pull out the one with a gold-and-green symbol on the top. And the sachet of wax paper.
Pull two of the small rectangles from the sachet. They look pale, like parchment, but are soft and spongy to the touch? The soft insides of specific mushroom caps, trimmed and cut for the purpose of wound-dressing. They keep for quite some time, and are very useful in preventing infection.
Uncap the small well, and smear the agent inside on one side of each of those rectangles. It will feel gummy and smell faintly of garlic: this has a similar property, but will also help encourage scabbing. And, coincidentally, help keep the mushroom cuttings in place over the cut while we wrap a bandage over-top.
[Glancing over his shoulder as he fetched everything needed, Saralegui managed a faint smirk and nodded towards the lurking black dragon.]
Careful. You might make him jealous.
[Saralegui's work with the bandages was faintly awkward, but managed without fumbling or spills. As inexperienced as he was, he was at least a quick learner. And evidently he picked up on the concept without the obvious further instructions, as he came back over with prepared mushroom squares and bandages in hand and crouched in front of Tzilan's seat with them.
Gingerly, he pressed the dressing over the wound. And when Shima gave a little sqawk at the sensation, more surprise than pain, he laid a hand on her beak-like snout almost tenderly.]
Good. Perhaps it will help him to reconsider his attitude.
[ He smiled, thinly and without humor, eyes focused on his work, and doing what he could to keep the pale dragon gently contained.
But the smile grew when he watched Sara work. He spoke when the worst was over, and his hands were swiftly and efficiently tying a securing bandage around the treated wound, ]
[Certainly, Saralegui had paid his little dragon more attention since their first meeting. However exasperating he found all the caretaking, the thought of ignoring her again ate at him with guilt. He glanced up at the observation, and then immediately away with a huff, coloring faintly.]
Like a weed, maybe.
[TSUN TSUN]
Is that enough, then? Will she disturb the dressing if she moves about?
[She was a squirmy little thing. after all. Cooperative enough for the moment, maybe, but he didn't expect it to last throughout the healing process. Sighing, Saralegui slumped down onto his knees before Tzilan's seat, a hand left idly on the little dragon's neck to keep her calm.]
[ He turned a smirk to Sara, his own dark-skinned fingers gliding down the pale dragon's elegant neck. ]
She should be quite fine. Even if she disturbs the bandages, you can re-orient them easily, and re-tie the gauze. In a day, it will be scabbed over, and far less uncomfortable. On the third day, take off the dressings.
And tell me how you've been, medical emergencies notwithstanding.
[Kind or honest, he wants to say. You can only pick one. But he bites his tongue, watching dark fingers smoothing over golden scales from beneath equally golden lashes.]
Busy. [More like distracted but he likes the sound of "busy" better. It's more familiar.] Trying to figure out...all of this, I suppose.
[That sounds too vague, but he can't think of anything he's exactly done that seems worth mentioning. Just things he's...well, figured out. Saralegui frowns to himself, fingers idly toying with the small feathers growing in at the tip of Shima's tail.]
She eats meat. Rats or rabbits or whatever she can get her claws on. But I think she prefers fish. She certainly seemed to enjoy splashing around in the surf the most. And she can sleep anywhere, if she actually gets tired out enough to sleep. She has too much energy.
[Saralegui glances up just briefly, a flash of eye contact before he snorts and drops his gaze again to Tzilan's fingers.]
I'm still miserable. No one wants to hear about that.
[At least he feels somewhat productive, figuring out the little dragon he's been saddled with. At least he feels less terrifyingly alone, focused on this creature that seems to adore him despite everything.]
Most people don't actually want to know. It's just a pleasantry.
[The barest smile, one without humor that doesn't reach his eyes. It slips away again after a moment, and Saralegui frowns, a nail tapping against Shima's hide the only other indication of the depths of his agitation.]
It's just...the scope of everything that was lost. I had a whole kingdom before, people I could trust with my life. All I have here is...well, her. [He inclines his head at the little dragon, and she lifts her head from where she'd been resting it against Tzilan's thigh, all too alert for any focus on her.] I don't think it's unreasonable for me to be depressed.
[ Such a frank, cool appraisal stirred something in Tzilan. A muscle in one of his slender fingers twitched, and he inhaled an unnecessary breath just to breathe what scents which Sara's hair and clothes carried with it. ]
Not unreasonable. Not at all.
You... aren't alone, in the magnitude of your losses. And it's in large part a reason I'm glad you're here.
[He can't quite work up the energy to respond as he normally would, witty and charming while carefully digging out and filing away more information. He's depressed, as he'd said, and emotionally drained from Shima's injury.
Still, he at least manages a faint smile and a gently teasing tone.]
Oh? Were you lonely? If you wanted company, you could have just asked.
[Shima, for her part, seems a little bored now that she isn't the center of attention, and too cautious of her injury to make more of a fuss. The little dragon drops her head back down against Tzilan's thigh, shifting slightly to get comfortable like she planned on taking a nap right there.]
[ He smiles, a little; the vaguely distant, emotionally wrung-out smile of someone too tired and distracted to resemble happiness.
But his hands stroked along Shima's neck, dark fingers gliding elegantly along it, ignoring a disapproving, trilling hiss from the shadow perched on the desk. ]
You lost a country; but it is more than just loneliness you feel. Directionless ambition, lost focus and momentum...
So, too, with me. Company alone... isn't enough. But the right company, helps.
[His smile slips, and for a moment he just blinks up at this strange, too-understanding man.]
Oh.
[It's a bit too accurate an observation. It leave him feeling exposed and vulnerable, despite all the sympathy in it. It doesn't help that he's on his knees before him. Saralegui's hand, left idly on Shima's flank, slips and brushes against Tzilan's leg. He pulls his hand back too quickly, and then colors faintly at his own reaction.
Dropping his gaze stubbornly to his little dragon where she's obliviously nodding off, he forces easiness into his tone, clinging to an image of unflappable charm.]
You know, if you talk like that, you'll never get rid of me.
We're here discussing our shared plight, individually alone upon a world at the outermost edge of imagining, the lives we once led vanished like mist upon morning. All we have left is the men we made ourselves to be in those lives, and the uncertainty that haunts every trickling second as we wade through them towards an even more-unknowable future.
For my part, at least, I've tried my best to make you understand that I do not want to be rid of you. If anything, I think I need you. It is... heartening, to see a strange echo of myself reflected back at me. With the weight of so much memory, I will never not be lonely...
But... it is less lonely. And I'm not so proud that I won't grip onto that, tightly.
[ His hand, caressing Shima, continued to do so. As smooth and regular as a calm heartbeat, dark fingertips vanishing here and there into soft feathers. But his eyes were on Saralegui, glinting in the low light, and he leaned forward as he spoke, dropping his voice to something little better than a whisper. ]
[He doesn't think anyone's ever said they needed him his entire life.
With a silent display of willpower, he made himself make eye contact, at shyly up through his pale lashes. Even if doing so made him feel like his heart would collapse in on itself.].
You're very eloquent.
[It's a miracle he managed that much. He can't say how such astuteness leaves him feeling equal parts horrifyingly unguarded and achingly known, how he's heard a million variations of I want you but never anything so blunt and sincere and seemingly free of baser motivations. How he wants very badly to be less prideful like that, even if the logical, cautious part of him warns against it with a man he's only spoken to in two occasions.]
I was common-born; education was the first and best step on the path to power, for me. If I wanted to convince others I or my ideas had merit, I had to sound the part long before I could afford to look it.
[ He said it with good humor, knowing full well that almost all evidence of his early beginnings had been shed long ago. Like a serpent's skin. Leaving only what was polished and glossy and less prone to breaking.
But the statement seemed to remind him of himself, and he straightened a little, speaking less in whisper and more conversationally, his own eyes flitting to glance down at his own hands. ]
In this new world, it's proven... a useful talent.
[One eyebrow arches slightly, but he offers no comment on that little revelation. He doubts any would be appreciated, coming from someone noble-born. Even if Tzilan seems to like him, he'd rather not test his luck.
But he thought he understood, at least a little. No one expected anything from a common-born. No one expected anything from a bastard, either.]
Why, do dragons respond better if you speak to them like a scholar? Perhaps that's where I've been going wrong all this time.
[It's easier to relax with the other man's eyes off him. Saralegui even manages a hint of a smirk, leaning back on his heels.]
Your Shima might well, intelligent as she is. [ The last seemed almost directed at the pale dragon, a quiet, pleased croon. There was an undercurrent of laughter threading through his voice, though; an acknowledgement of the jest. ]
Ratha, I think, would prefer I hissed and snarled and fought for every small think between us. Obstinate creature; I only hope I'm fortunate enough that he grows large enough that all of his viciousness can be effective or useful in some way or other.
[ The dragon, bored with being ignored, leaned its long neck over the edge of the desk and began to nose into the drawers. The clawed thumbs of its wings helped it to cleverly tug and pull them open, and its long, lean tail lashed and waved while it explored.
Tzilan looked away from it, ignoring the sounds of small boxes and paper goods being rustled, instead considering Saralegui with... a strange, very frank regard. His lips compressed in hard thought, and he went... very still. Still as stone, before he inquired quietly, ]
The answer to that depends. How honest would you like me to be with you?
[Saralegui seemed to feel the stare and pulled his eyes away from the larger dragon, keeping a cool expression with a bit of effort under that look. It was silly to get flustered, he told himself. People always stare at him. This is no different.]
If I say "completely", would you actually be entirely honest with me? I'd rather not dance around the subject, whatever it is.
[Determinedly, he held Tzilan's gaze. He'd certainly prefer absolute honesty, and he didn't want there to be any doubt about that.]
But I'd do so under the understanding that you can reciprocate at least a modicum of discretion.
[ His stare went unbroken, unblinking. By some trick of the light, or his posture, he even seemed taller, somehow. Dark eyes glinting and cold, like black river stones freshly pulled from a snowmelt stream, all the heavy weight of his full attention on the pale man before him. He did not breathe. ]
[His first instincts generally leaned towards snark and levity, but he hadn't gotten as far as he has in life without the ability to read the mood of a situation. In the face of that heavy stare, Saralegui sobered up, his mouth pursing slightly.]
[ Tzilan watched Saralegui a long moment more before nodding. 'I am very discreet.'
Heaven help the young man if he wasn't. But it was a good first step... Trust had to be given first if it were ever to be reciprocated. ]
I came to this world with as mediocre a sum of wealth or esteem as any other outworlder. I've been, in secret and when currents and other factors are favorable, going out to see in hunt of ships carrying valuable but untraceable cargo. The captain, crew, and all living souls aboard, I kill.
I return the cargo in segments to port, here or elsewhere, under the painstakingly-built guise of a commodities merchant. It's ow I was able to afford a manse of such impressive size in this area against the mountain-- usually reserved for blue-blooded native families. It's the first step, growing wealth, but soon I mean to leverage it to buy my way into local politics as a magistrate of the port.
One step on a path that I mean to take me to the governorship of the city.
[Whatever he was expecting, it obviously wasn't that. But the surprise is only visible on his face for a moment before he schools his expression, carefully blank and decidedly neutral.]
...Some would call that immoral.
[Yuuri certainly wouldn't approve. Saralegui has to appreciate the efficiency of it, but he's not quite sure what kind of reaction is sought here. Did he want enthusiasm for the idea, or was he seeking disapproval in some roundabout test of character? Saralegui HADNT known Tzilan long enough to be sure.]
Not just some; many. I am not concerned with the smaller moral costs when confronted with the possible net gain of good which might be achieved in the near future. Every other month the city is under attack, there are no state-sponsored investigations into the gods or the means of our arrival... or into any of the significant disruptions our presence makes here. A few lives lost on the path to greater understanding of our situation... and its consequences not just for our old worlds, but the one we inhabit now.
[ He paused there, lips pinching... and leaned forward a little. ]
And if you aren't overly troubled by niggling immoralities...
[An amoral idealist. Saralegui almost scoffs, and a hint of a smirk does manage to escape him despite his efforts towards neutrality.]
It certainly sounds like you need help. I can already think of a few ways that could all go wrong and get you caught or killed.
[He shifts backwards off his knees to sit on the floor properly, arms resting on his knees while he adopts a thoughtful expression.]
...I'd bet that I could do it without killing anyone.
[Or rather, he knows he could. Though it would certainly be fun to see if he could come up with a scheme that doesn't use his eyes. He's never had to put his wits to use for something like making money, but the novelty of it could be nice.]
[ His brows inched towards his hairline, and his mouth pursed thoughtfully while he considered the other man, cradling the pale dragon mutely while he listened. ]
Trust me when I say I'm remarkably resilient. And--
[ It's clear by his expression that he's curious. Like a cat watching a pulled string, trying to decide if it was worth batting after. He set his shoulders. ]
I hadn't meant that you would join in on that scheme... No; I'm unfit for the public eye. I need... a partner, someone who can be the respectable face of an understanding. But I won't... wouldn't turn down sound advice.
I'd just have a talk with the crews. But I don't imagine my methods would work for anyone else. I'm just very persuasive.
[To say the least.]
Personally, I think you're plenty fit for the public eye. [He flashes a grin, and powers on before he can think too much about Tzilan's earlier words. It's easier to feel at ease when he could at least control the rhythm of the conversation.] But I suppose I can help out in that respect, if you'd rather stick to the shadows.
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enthraller) wrote2014-06-30 02:51 pm
no subject
Even he could tell it probably wasn't anything life threatening -- just a cut down her leg and side, a bit deep but not near anything that seemed vital -- but the feel of warm blood under his hands was distressing. At least the little dragon seemed to be built like a bird, and didn't weigh much despite her size.
Tzilan had also said he was only available in during the evenings and nights. Saralegui remembered that distantly as he actually found the door, and tried to wave away any doubts and worried of what he'd do if the man wasn't home. The sun was already dripping down below the horizon, surely that was late enough?
He had to shift his little dragon to one arm -- a bit of a struggle on its own, because she wasn't that lightweight and she whined at the jostling, claws digging into his shoulder as she shifted to support herself -- to bang on the door. He would have preferred a more pleasant first visit, of course, but too late now.]
no subject
He was already marching towards the door, drawn towards it like a magnet when he heard the pounding. There were no lights; it was too early yet for the servants to have arrived to light them, and to effect the outward display of life and movement which should fill a manse of this size. Instead, it was just Tzilan and Ratha, who was small enough to easily glide through the massively wide grand hall to a great iron perch beside the door.
He folded his wings and hissed at the noise of the door, the short fins and rills along his horned head flaring. ]
Quiet, Ratha, we shall have guests,
[ Murmured the vampire, but inwardly he wanted to hiss too-- in excitement, warm anticipation-- and he cast open the door.
Assessed the situation with a look and pressed his lips together. Opened the door wider and waved the pale man in hurriedly. ]
We shall dispense with greetings until after she is addressed. Follow me, and tell me what happened to cause this.
no subject
Mercifully, he was allowed to duck inside immediately. A soft breath escaped him, mild relief at bypassing all the pleasantries and pleading.]
A scuffle with another dragon in the market. I didn't see it all.
[A brief, uncomfortable pause, and Saralegui glanced about the place as he moved through it with an almost embarrassed air.]
I wasn't sure what to do. [Who to go to, who could be trusted to handle this sort of thing well.]
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I see. When our work here is done, you should tell me what you recall of the dragon and their master. I will submit a complaint to the authorities, and we may be able to wring out a small sort of justice.
But for now-- first aid. You should attend all we do and learn the basics of care; I doubt it will be the first wound your darling acquires, as she grows.
Water, first. A wound that isn't clean when it's wrapped will fester. You're fortunate she's so calm; many lesser dragons might be frantic or wild in their pain.
[ The room beyond the great double doors was a grand hallway that stretched for some time, wide enough to hold a number of people, with crumbling carven scenes on the vaulted ceiling and ancient, weather-worn statues flanking the walls between great tall, hauntingly clear mirrors.
None of them reflected Tzilan as he walked, and the black dragon which had hunched on a heavy post near the door hissed a gatorlike sound of interest, and took to wing to hurry after them, its leathery wings a quiet sound even trapped in the large space.
They had not walked for long when the mirrors between the statues became replaced by doors, and it was through one of these which Tzilan led Saralegui. In it was another hall, short and narrow, and with a long stride he led the other man to the door at its end. This hallway was empty, and smelled of dust, as if it had gone unoccupied for months. ]
There's a basin of water in my study I usually keep for mixing inks; and we'll find everything else we need there....
... do you think she would let me handle her, or would you be the one to bandage her?
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Saralegui was quiet as he followed, nodding absently at all the instructions as he looked around. It was an eerily pretty sort of place, more like a ruin than an estate. Again, the other dragon caught his eye, and he couldn't help but stare as it flew after them, demon black and elegant.
So caught up with the dragon, he only noticed the missing reflection just as they passed away from the mirrors, and had to wonder if he'd imagined it.]
She liked you well enough last time, and she's never been hostile. I'm sure you're fine.
[Probably. Though she had a vice-like grip on her master at the moment, and she gave a low screech as he tried to gently pry her claws away from his shoulder.
Still, she could only be better off in the hands of someone who actually knew what they were doing.]
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The walls were lined with bookshelves, and tall, thin painted-glass windows let uncertain evening light stream into the space. Sconces burned with blue-white flame, but produced only just enough light to illuminate the corners and not the roof. Writing instruments and open tomes and ledgers rest heavily on several big, well-carven desks of dark wood. Gargyles and lions and ivy traced up their sides.
Tzilan went towards one such desk, and a basin of water. From a drawer of the desk he produced a few large squares of fine blotting linen, and tossed one straightaway into the water, slipping himself into a straight-backed, wooden chair which had been cockeyed before the desk.
The black dragon had gone to the floor at the first door, and followed them like an interested hound, its heavy, wicked-looking claws clicking against the stone. It hissed with clever interest at the pale dragon's screeches and squalls, and nosed after the pale fabric of Saralegui's skirts and clothing, slitted nostrils flaring while it tried to parse out who he was and where he'd been. Hissed again, like a disturbed viper, and with batlike efficiency began to clamber up the side of the desk for a better vantage of the goings-on, deep claws gouging the fine woodwork. After all, the room had no perch...
Tzilan shot the black dragon an ugly scowl. ]
Ratha! Stubborn beast, I've taught you better manners. Incorrigible thing, he'll ruin anything trying to get a better vantage...
[ With a sigh, Tzilan opened his arms to Sara. ]
Here; let's see if she will come to me so I can have a better look. If not, you'll sit, and we'll wash and dress the wound with care.
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Is that why the rest of this place is so empty?
[The only thing resembling furniture he'd seen outside this room was the perch by the door. He'd been faintly concerned the whole trip through the estate before coming to this actually lived-in looking room.
Nodding again, Saralegui moved to hand his little dragon over, only to be thwarted by her suddenly tightened grip and anxious whine. It was a little like having a small child latched onto his torso, only one with claws that scratched at his shoulders and were probably ruining this shirt. Ah well. The shirt was already bloodstained anyway.
Exasperated, and faintly embarrassed by the struggle:]
Let go.
[Perhaps she actually recognized the hint of scolding in his tone, as she finally eased her grip and let him pass her off to Tzilan. Still, she craned her neck to keep an eye on her master however she was moved, and Saralegui sighed, rolling his eyes at this fretting.]
Settle down. I'm not going anywhere, alright?
[Evidently, he'd gotten over the awkwardness of talking to a creature he didn't think really understood him.]
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[ Ratha lashed his tail like a cat and trilled a pleased, ululating hiss. Tzilan rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to (to his thinking) better-behaved Shima.
He watched the brief struggle without judgement, and accepted the squirming dragon very gently. Smoothed his dark fingertips along her neck, uninjured side, crooning quietly at her.
Ratha stared at all this with unblinking attention, breathing deep, tailtip twitching fretfully. ]
Pull the cloth out of the water in the basin and squeeze it out over the wound to wash it. Do this as many times as it takes for us to see how deep and wide it is. When that's done, you can use some of the cloth to dab at the blood around the wound, very gently. If it dries, it'll become uncomfortable, and she'll itch at it and might aggravate the wound.
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He seems well-behaved enough, besides being a menace to furniture.
[His tone was conversational as he took the cloth, trying to affect a casual air like he wasn't playing nurse to a goddamn dragon. With the first wringing out, Shima gave a little shriek and a start in Tzilan's lap, and Saralegui made a soft shushing sound without really thinking about it. Again with the water, and the little dragon squirmed with discomfort.]
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[ He said it quietly and coolly, his eyes and attention focused at the task at hand. Whenever the dragonling in his lap squirmed overmuch, he crooned or pet or distracted her in a different way. The water, now, was sluicing down the cut and dampening the fabric of his clothing. ]
Now we can see it clearly, I don't think it's deep enough to need stitches. Just an antibacterial and a bandage. Ah...
Reach into the third drawer, there! Should be a small burlwood box, pull it out and open it up. Should have everything we might need.
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[He should know.
Shima, at least, was mercifully less focused. She continued to twitch under the gentle streams of water, but was easily soothed with Tzilan's various distractions. Lucky, that Saralegui had found someone so good with these things. And who evidently didn't mind getting his clothes ruined by water tinged with blood.]
Ah...sorry about your clothes.
[He didn't truly feel all that apologetic, with greater concerns at the moment, but it never hurt to appear considerate. Saralegui tossed the apology over his shoulder as a compromise as he moved to get the box of supplies.]
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[ He lifted a slim brow at the dark dragon, who had ceased to pay attention to Tzilan in favor of leaning over the edge of the desk and watching what Saralegui did. Its long tail lashed, like a cat's. ]
The clothes aren't important. Are they, sweetling? You've been quite the charming patient, no biting or hissing at all.
[ He smoothly stroked the pale dragon's cheeks, followed along the line of her back, smiling almost to himself. And then looked up to Saralegui. ]
Flip it open. There should bee several small-- quite small-- little wells with screw-on lids. Pull out the one with a gold-and-green symbol on the top. And the sachet of wax paper.
Pull two of the small rectangles from the sachet. They look pale, like parchment, but are soft and spongy to the touch? The soft insides of specific mushroom caps, trimmed and cut for the purpose of wound-dressing. They keep for quite some time, and are very useful in preventing infection.
Uncap the small well, and smear the agent inside on one side of each of those rectangles. It will feel gummy and smell faintly of garlic: this has a similar property, but will also help encourage scabbing. And, coincidentally, help keep the mushroom cuttings in place over the cut while we wrap a bandage over-top.
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Careful. You might make him jealous.
[Saralegui's work with the bandages was faintly awkward, but managed without fumbling or spills. As inexperienced as he was, he was at least a quick learner. And evidently he picked up on the concept without the obvious further instructions, as he came back over with prepared mushroom squares and bandages in hand and crouched in front of Tzilan's seat with them.
Gingerly, he pressed the dressing over the wound. And when Shima gave a little sqawk at the sensation, more surprise than pain, he laid a hand on her beak-like snout almost tenderly.]
Hush. It's good for you.
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[ He smiled, thinly and without humor, eyes focused on his work, and doing what he could to keep the pale dragon gently contained.
But the smile grew when he watched Sara work. He spoke when the worst was over, and his hands were swiftly and efficiently tying a securing bandage around the treated wound, ]
I see she's been growing on you.
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Like a weed, maybe.
[TSUN TSUN]
Is that enough, then? Will she disturb the dressing if she moves about?
[She was a squirmy little thing. after all. Cooperative enough for the moment, maybe, but he didn't expect it to last throughout the healing process. Sighing, Saralegui slumped down onto his knees before Tzilan's seat, a hand left idly on the little dragon's neck to keep her calm.]
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[ He turned a smirk to Sara, his own dark-skinned fingers gliding down the pale dragon's elegant neck. ]
She should be quite fine. Even if she disturbs the bandages, you can re-orient them easily, and re-tie the gauze. In a day, it will be scabbed over, and far less uncomfortable. On the third day, take off the dressings.
And tell me how you've been, medical emergencies notwithstanding.
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Busy. [More like distracted but he likes the sound of "busy" better. It's more familiar.] Trying to figure out...all of this, I suppose.
[That sounds too vague, but he can't think of anything he's exactly done that seems worth mentioning. Just things he's...well, figured out. Saralegui frowns to himself, fingers idly toying with the small feathers growing in at the tip of Shima's tail.]
She eats meat. Rats or rabbits or whatever she can get her claws on. But I think she prefers fish. She certainly seemed to enjoy splashing around in the surf the most. And she can sleep anywhere, if she actually gets tired out enough to sleep. She has too much energy.
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He leaned forward, voice a pleasant murmur, ]
I ask how you've been and you tell me more about her than yourself.
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I'm still miserable. No one wants to hear about that.
[At least he feels somewhat productive, figuring out the little dragon he's been saddled with. At least he feels less terrifyingly alone, focused on this creature that seems to adore him despite everything.]
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[ It's so quiet that it rubs... almost, strangely, sad.
But he smiles, small but smoothly, and lifts his shoulders a little in a small shrug. ]
What about it is... the worst, for you?
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[The barest smile, one without humor that doesn't reach his eyes. It slips away again after a moment, and Saralegui frowns, a nail tapping against Shima's hide the only other indication of the depths of his agitation.]
It's just...the scope of everything that was lost. I had a whole kingdom before, people I could trust with my life. All I have here is...well, her. [He inclines his head at the little dragon, and she lifts her head from where she'd been resting it against Tzilan's thigh, all too alert for any focus on her.] I don't think it's unreasonable for me to be depressed.
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Not unreasonable. Not at all.
You... aren't alone, in the magnitude of your losses. And it's in large part a reason I'm glad you're here.
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Still, he at least manages a faint smile and a gently teasing tone.]
Oh? Were you lonely? If you wanted company, you could have just asked.
[Shima, for her part, seems a little bored now that she isn't the center of attention, and too cautious of her injury to make more of a fuss. The little dragon drops her head back down against Tzilan's thigh, shifting slightly to get comfortable like she planned on taking a nap right there.]
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But his hands stroked along Shima's neck, dark fingers gliding elegantly along it, ignoring a disapproving, trilling hiss from the shadow perched on the desk. ]
You lost a country; but it is more than just loneliness you feel. Directionless ambition, lost focus and momentum...
So, too, with me. Company alone... isn't enough. But the right company, helps.
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Oh.
[It's a bit too accurate an observation. It leave him feeling exposed and vulnerable, despite all the sympathy in it. It doesn't help that he's on his knees before him. Saralegui's hand, left idly on Shima's flank, slips and brushes against Tzilan's leg. He pulls his hand back too quickly, and then colors faintly at his own reaction.
Dropping his gaze stubbornly to his little dragon where she's obliviously nodding off, he forces easiness into his tone, clinging to an image of unflappable charm.]
You know, if you talk like that, you'll never get rid of me.
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For my part, at least, I've tried my best to make you understand that I do not want to be rid of you. If anything, I think I need you. It is... heartening, to see a strange echo of myself reflected back at me. With the weight of so much memory, I will never not be lonely...
But... it is less lonely. And I'm not so proud that I won't grip onto that, tightly.
[ His hand, caressing Shima, continued to do so. As smooth and regular as a calm heartbeat, dark fingertips vanishing here and there into soft feathers. But his eyes were on Saralegui, glinting in the low light, and he leaned forward as he spoke, dropping his voice to something little better than a whisper. ]
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With a silent display of willpower, he made himself make eye contact, at shyly up through his pale lashes. Even if doing so made him feel like his heart would collapse in on itself.].
You're very eloquent.
[It's a miracle he managed that much. He can't say how such astuteness leaves him feeling equal parts horrifyingly unguarded and achingly known, how he's heard a million variations of I want you but never anything so blunt and sincere and seemingly free of baser motivations. How he wants very badly to be less prideful like that, even if the logical, cautious part of him warns against it with a man he's only spoken to in two occasions.]
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[ He said it with good humor, knowing full well that almost all evidence of his early beginnings had been shed long ago. Like a serpent's skin. Leaving only what was polished and glossy and less prone to breaking.
But the statement seemed to remind him of himself, and he straightened a little, speaking less in whisper and more conversationally, his own eyes flitting to glance down at his own hands. ]
In this new world, it's proven... a useful talent.
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But he thought he understood, at least a little. No one expected anything from a common-born. No one expected anything from a bastard, either.]
Why, do dragons respond better if you speak to them like a scholar? Perhaps that's where I've been going wrong all this time.
[It's easier to relax with the other man's eyes off him. Saralegui even manages a hint of a smirk, leaning back on his heels.]
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Ratha, I think, would prefer I hissed and snarled and fought for every small think between us. Obstinate creature; I only hope I'm fortunate enough that he grows large enough that all of his viciousness can be effective or useful in some way or other.
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[He was smiling as he said it, but he didn't sound like he was joking. Even cast a glance toward the lurking black beast, quietly appreciative.
And luckily, Shima had dozed off and thus couldn't whine and protest.]
So how have you put that eloquence to work here, then?
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[ The dragon, bored with being ignored, leaned its long neck over the edge of the desk and began to nose into the drawers. The clawed thumbs of its wings helped it to cleverly tug and pull them open, and its long, lean tail lashed and waved while it explored.
Tzilan looked away from it, ignoring the sounds of small boxes and paper goods being rustled, instead considering Saralegui with... a strange, very frank regard. His lips compressed in hard thought, and he went... very still. Still as stone, before he inquired quietly, ]
The answer to that depends. How honest would you like me to be with you?
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If I say "completely", would you actually be entirely honest with me? I'd rather not dance around the subject, whatever it is.
[Determinedly, he held Tzilan's gaze. He'd certainly prefer absolute honesty, and he didn't want there to be any doubt about that.]
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But I'd do so under the understanding that you can reciprocate at least a modicum of discretion.
[ His stare went unbroken, unblinking. By some trick of the light, or his posture, he even seemed taller, somehow. Dark eyes glinting and cold, like black river stones freshly pulled from a snowmelt stream, all the heavy weight of his full attention on the pale man before him. He did not breathe. ]
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I'm very discreet. What is it?
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Heaven help the young man if he wasn't. But it was a good first step... Trust had to be given first if it were ever to be reciprocated. ]
I came to this world with as mediocre a sum of wealth or esteem as any other outworlder. I've been, in secret and when currents and other factors are favorable, going out to see in hunt of ships carrying valuable but untraceable cargo. The captain, crew, and all living souls aboard, I kill.
I return the cargo in segments to port, here or elsewhere, under the painstakingly-built guise of a commodities merchant. It's ow I was able to afford a manse of such impressive size in this area against the mountain-- usually reserved for blue-blooded native families. It's the first step, growing wealth, but soon I mean to leverage it to buy my way into local politics as a magistrate of the port.
One step on a path that I mean to take me to the governorship of the city.
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...Some would call that immoral.
[Yuuri certainly wouldn't approve. Saralegui has to appreciate the efficiency of it, but he's not quite sure what kind of reaction is sought here. Did he want enthusiasm for the idea, or was he seeking disapproval in some roundabout test of character? Saralegui HADNT known Tzilan long enough to be sure.]
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[ He paused there, lips pinching... and leaned forward a little. ]
And if you aren't overly troubled by niggling immoralities...
... I'd ask that you help me.
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It certainly sounds like you need help. I can already think of a few ways that could all go wrong and get you caught or killed.
[He shifts backwards off his knees to sit on the floor properly, arms resting on his knees while he adopts a thoughtful expression.]
...I'd bet that I could do it without killing anyone.
[Or rather, he knows he could. Though it would certainly be fun to see if he could come up with a scheme that doesn't use his eyes. He's never had to put his wits to use for something like making money, but the novelty of it could be nice.]
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Trust me when I say I'm remarkably resilient. And--
[ It's clear by his expression that he's curious. Like a cat watching a pulled string, trying to decide if it was worth batting after. He set his shoulders. ]
I hadn't meant that you would join in on that scheme... No; I'm unfit for the public eye. I need... a partner, someone who can be the respectable face of an understanding. But I won't... wouldn't turn down sound advice.
How would you do it?
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I'd just have a talk with the crews. But I don't imagine my methods would work for anyone else. I'm just very persuasive.
[To say the least.]
Personally, I think you're plenty fit for the public eye. [He flashes a grin, and powers on before he can think too much about Tzilan's earlier words. It's easier to feel at ease when he could at least control the rhythm of the conversation.] But I suppose I can help out in that respect, if you'd rather stick to the shadows.