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Sil couldn't understand why his limbs were not doing what he wanted them to. He knew how to fucking swim. But there was some disconnect between his brain and his legs and arms and the coordination wasn't there so he kept sinking and then remerging like a cork bobbing around on the surf. When he felt himself being hauled up, he took a long breath, coughing and spluttering half of the Aegean that it felt like he’d swallowed. The panic didn't immediately let up though, and for a moment he fighting against the arms that had grabbed him, until Saro spoke and the Valaoritis Lord managed to quieten himself, hands fisting into the fabric of the man’s shirt to anchor himself.
“S’fucking cold..” he managed, when he’d caught his breath, and as he calmed, Silanos found that he could at least make some token effort to aiding their progress toward the harbour wall and the ladder that the man - he couldn’t remember his name - shoved him toward.
The rungs were slippery with seaweed and slick, but after a bit of work, Sil was able to haul himself up on to the quay, and he stood there a moment like some bedraggled sailor who’d been lured in by Poseidon’s nymphs, chewed up and spat out again afterwards. But he was no sailor, and the garments he wore were not designed to be submerged and so hung heavily, dripping water at his feet in a continuous stream.
He glanced sideways at the man who had followed him from the water and muttered what might have been a thankyou or something along those lines, wrapping his arms about himself in some hopeless effort to get warm. Even though the night was mild, it did not feel so when one was wet through and dripping.
The impromptu soaking had chased much of the alcohol induced haze away, but Silanos was still safely cocooned in the embrace of the poppy he’d been slowly loading all night, and so there was a certain detachment from the situation. He was mostly aware of how he’d ended up in the water, but when Lukos and the boy arrived, the Lord just eyed him warily.
Home didn’t sound a terrible idea, now he thought about it, and he glanced at the whore and remembered a higher purpose. A blonde for Tim. That was what he’d been doing, and he tried to remember why they’d ended up on a fucking boat in the first place. He didn’t even like boats, and it was easy to remember why when he was cold and soggy. Maybe in the morning he’d feel the effects of that crash landing on the deck, but for now he was just damp and uncomfortable.
With a long suffering sigh, Silanos turned a little unsteadily and began wandering off in the vague direction of the upper levels, throwing out a “Come on then” over his shoulder to the whore. Definitely the whore, he didn’t really give a fuck what everyone else decided to do.
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Sil couldn't understand why his limbs were not doing what he wanted them to. He knew how to fucking swim. But there was some disconnect between his brain and his legs and arms and the coordination wasn't there so he kept sinking and then remerging like a cork bobbing around on the surf. When he felt himself being hauled up, he took a long breath, coughing and spluttering half of the Aegean that it felt like he’d swallowed. The panic didn't immediately let up though, and for a moment he fighting against the arms that had grabbed him, until Saro spoke and the Valaoritis Lord managed to quieten himself, hands fisting into the fabric of the man’s shirt to anchor himself.
“S’fucking cold..” he managed, when he’d caught his breath, and as he calmed, Silanos found that he could at least make some token effort to aiding their progress toward the harbour wall and the ladder that the man - he couldn’t remember his name - shoved him toward.
The rungs were slippery with seaweed and slick, but after a bit of work, Sil was able to haul himself up on to the quay, and he stood there a moment like some bedraggled sailor who’d been lured in by Poseidon’s nymphs, chewed up and spat out again afterwards. But he was no sailor, and the garments he wore were not designed to be submerged and so hung heavily, dripping water at his feet in a continuous stream.
He glanced sideways at the man who had followed him from the water and muttered what might have been a thankyou or something along those lines, wrapping his arms about himself in some hopeless effort to get warm. Even though the night was mild, it did not feel so when one was wet through and dripping.
The impromptu soaking had chased much of the alcohol induced haze away, but Silanos was still safely cocooned in the embrace of the poppy he’d been slowly loading all night, and so there was a certain detachment from the situation. He was mostly aware of how he’d ended up in the water, but when Lukos and the boy arrived, the Lord just eyed him warily.
Home didn’t sound a terrible idea, now he thought about it, and he glanced at the whore and remembered a higher purpose. A blonde for Tim. That was what he’d been doing, and he tried to remember why they’d ended up on a fucking boat in the first place. He didn’t even like boats, and it was easy to remember why when he was cold and soggy. Maybe in the morning he’d feel the effects of that crash landing on the deck, but for now he was just damp and uncomfortable.
With a long suffering sigh, Silanos turned a little unsteadily and began wandering off in the vague direction of the upper levels, throwing out a “Come on then” over his shoulder to the whore. Definitely the whore, he didn’t really give a fuck what everyone else decided to do.
Sil couldn't understand why his limbs were not doing what he wanted them to. He knew how to fucking swim. But there was some disconnect between his brain and his legs and arms and the coordination wasn't there so he kept sinking and then remerging like a cork bobbing around on the surf. When he felt himself being hauled up, he took a long breath, coughing and spluttering half of the Aegean that it felt like he’d swallowed. The panic didn't immediately let up though, and for a moment he fighting against the arms that had grabbed him, until Saro spoke and the Valaoritis Lord managed to quieten himself, hands fisting into the fabric of the man’s shirt to anchor himself.
“S’fucking cold..” he managed, when he’d caught his breath, and as he calmed, Silanos found that he could at least make some token effort to aiding their progress toward the harbour wall and the ladder that the man - he couldn’t remember his name - shoved him toward.
The rungs were slippery with seaweed and slick, but after a bit of work, Sil was able to haul himself up on to the quay, and he stood there a moment like some bedraggled sailor who’d been lured in by Poseidon’s nymphs, chewed up and spat out again afterwards. But he was no sailor, and the garments he wore were not designed to be submerged and so hung heavily, dripping water at his feet in a continuous stream.
He glanced sideways at the man who had followed him from the water and muttered what might have been a thankyou or something along those lines, wrapping his arms about himself in some hopeless effort to get warm. Even though the night was mild, it did not feel so when one was wet through and dripping.
The impromptu soaking had chased much of the alcohol induced haze away, but Silanos was still safely cocooned in the embrace of the poppy he’d been slowly loading all night, and so there was a certain detachment from the situation. He was mostly aware of how he’d ended up in the water, but when Lukos and the boy arrived, the Lord just eyed him warily.
Home didn’t sound a terrible idea, now he thought about it, and he glanced at the whore and remembered a higher purpose. A blonde for Tim. That was what he’d been doing, and he tried to remember why they’d ended up on a fucking boat in the first place. He didn’t even like boats, and it was easy to remember why when he was cold and soggy. Maybe in the morning he’d feel the effects of that crash landing on the deck, but for now he was just damp and uncomfortable.
With a long suffering sigh, Silanos turned a little unsteadily and began wandering off in the vague direction of the upper levels, throwing out a “Come on then” over his shoulder to the whore. Definitely the whore, he didn’t really give a fuck what everyone else decided to do.
Saro easily ignored the calls of the other pirate as he dove into the water, it wasn’t that easy to get under Saro’s skin. Whether this man was a Lord or not, Saro would have eventually dove in to save him. He wasn’t about to let a man drown, title or not. It was just a bonus that perhaps this Lord would remember who it was who tossed him in the water and who it was who saved him from drowning. Though Silanos was so drunk that it was likely he wouldn’t remember either scenarios. Either way, Saro had no problems fishing the man out of the water.
Saro reached up to squeeze as much water out of his long hair as he could while the other two made their way off the ship, dragging the blonde whore along after them. He used a strip of hide to tie his hair back out of his face now that it was soaked, attempting to wring out his shirt a bit when they arrived to join him and the Lord where they stood. Silanos seemed unphased by the fact that Lukos had just mopped up vomit with him and then tossed him in the water. Either the Lord was truly far too out of it for his own good, or he just a pure moron. Perhaps a bit of both, but either way, Saro decided to tag along with the group of random acquaintances. Even if there wasn’t any money at the end of this little adventure, the entertainment value was fairly high. It was either this or back to the whorehouse to gamble, drink and fuck his night away. And that was something he had spent a lot of nights doing.
As the group started forward to where ever their night would take them, Saro very specifically held back to walk beside the young boy, his hand held out for the feather that he had trusted him with just before his dive into the water. The item was worthless when it came to monetary value, but sentimentally it meant more to Saro than anything in the world, and it was not something that could be replaced. The person who had given it to him had long since cut any ties to the pirate, for a reason that Saro was never told. And so, this was all he had remaining to remind him that what they had had been real. The feather and the letters he kept so carefully tucked away on his ship. If anything happened to that feather, he would kill the person who stole, wrecked or lost it.
Once the feather was back in his possession, Saro ran his thumb carefully over it, then reached up to silently tie it back in his hair, lost in his thoughts a little as they headed towards the rich part of Midas.
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Saro easily ignored the calls of the other pirate as he dove into the water, it wasn’t that easy to get under Saro’s skin. Whether this man was a Lord or not, Saro would have eventually dove in to save him. He wasn’t about to let a man drown, title or not. It was just a bonus that perhaps this Lord would remember who it was who tossed him in the water and who it was who saved him from drowning. Though Silanos was so drunk that it was likely he wouldn’t remember either scenarios. Either way, Saro had no problems fishing the man out of the water.
Saro reached up to squeeze as much water out of his long hair as he could while the other two made their way off the ship, dragging the blonde whore along after them. He used a strip of hide to tie his hair back out of his face now that it was soaked, attempting to wring out his shirt a bit when they arrived to join him and the Lord where they stood. Silanos seemed unphased by the fact that Lukos had just mopped up vomit with him and then tossed him in the water. Either the Lord was truly far too out of it for his own good, or he just a pure moron. Perhaps a bit of both, but either way, Saro decided to tag along with the group of random acquaintances. Even if there wasn’t any money at the end of this little adventure, the entertainment value was fairly high. It was either this or back to the whorehouse to gamble, drink and fuck his night away. And that was something he had spent a lot of nights doing.
As the group started forward to where ever their night would take them, Saro very specifically held back to walk beside the young boy, his hand held out for the feather that he had trusted him with just before his dive into the water. The item was worthless when it came to monetary value, but sentimentally it meant more to Saro than anything in the world, and it was not something that could be replaced. The person who had given it to him had long since cut any ties to the pirate, for a reason that Saro was never told. And so, this was all he had remaining to remind him that what they had had been real. The feather and the letters he kept so carefully tucked away on his ship. If anything happened to that feather, he would kill the person who stole, wrecked or lost it.
Once the feather was back in his possession, Saro ran his thumb carefully over it, then reached up to silently tie it back in his hair, lost in his thoughts a little as they headed towards the rich part of Midas.
Saro easily ignored the calls of the other pirate as he dove into the water, it wasn’t that easy to get under Saro’s skin. Whether this man was a Lord or not, Saro would have eventually dove in to save him. He wasn’t about to let a man drown, title or not. It was just a bonus that perhaps this Lord would remember who it was who tossed him in the water and who it was who saved him from drowning. Though Silanos was so drunk that it was likely he wouldn’t remember either scenarios. Either way, Saro had no problems fishing the man out of the water.
Saro reached up to squeeze as much water out of his long hair as he could while the other two made their way off the ship, dragging the blonde whore along after them. He used a strip of hide to tie his hair back out of his face now that it was soaked, attempting to wring out his shirt a bit when they arrived to join him and the Lord where they stood. Silanos seemed unphased by the fact that Lukos had just mopped up vomit with him and then tossed him in the water. Either the Lord was truly far too out of it for his own good, or he just a pure moron. Perhaps a bit of both, but either way, Saro decided to tag along with the group of random acquaintances. Even if there wasn’t any money at the end of this little adventure, the entertainment value was fairly high. It was either this or back to the whorehouse to gamble, drink and fuck his night away. And that was something he had spent a lot of nights doing.
As the group started forward to where ever their night would take them, Saro very specifically held back to walk beside the young boy, his hand held out for the feather that he had trusted him with just before his dive into the water. The item was worthless when it came to monetary value, but sentimentally it meant more to Saro than anything in the world, and it was not something that could be replaced. The person who had given it to him had long since cut any ties to the pirate, for a reason that Saro was never told. And so, this was all he had remaining to remind him that what they had had been real. The feather and the letters he kept so carefully tucked away on his ship. If anything happened to that feather, he would kill the person who stole, wrecked or lost it.
Once the feather was back in his possession, Saro ran his thumb carefully over it, then reached up to silently tie it back in his hair, lost in his thoughts a little as they headed towards the rich part of Midas.
Athanasia sensed that there was some kind of silent competition going on between Lukos and Saro. Maybe they were both planning to rob Silanos and wanted to beat each other to it. Was that why Lukos called Saros a good boy, as if he was a dog? Was he trying to aggravate the other sailor/pirate into storming off once he had pulled the lord from the ocean? The way it looked now, Saro was in a better position to make off with the valuables. How hard would it be to take Silanos' money when he climbed up the ladder to the dock? Surely, Saro had seen where Silanos kept it, as he was liberally spending it at the brothel. However, if Silanos noticed it was missing, Lukos would know Saro took it and come to his rescue, perhaps earning a reward. And Saro would go to prison, No, both of them were smarter than that.
After the sailor reached the lord and began pulling him toward the ladder, Athanasia lost interest in them. Instead, she studied the feather that Saro had given her for safekeeping, wondering why he didn't want it to get wet. Perhaps he didn't, and he was afraid that he would lose it. She turned it around in her hands, studying it closely. It looked like its only worth was to the bird that it had originally belonged to. It must have some sort of sentimental value. Maybe it had been a gift from a lover or a member of his family.
Goosebumps suddenly prickled upon her bare arms, and Athanasia glanced at Lukos out of the corner of one eye. While she was observing the feather, he was observing her. She felt naked beneath his intense gaze, like her feminine figure was no longer hidden by her clever clothing manipulations. Had he guessed that she wasn't who she said she was, that she wasn't actually a boy at all?
And so she looked down into the water again to draw his attention back to the drama playing itself out below them. Lukos didn't think that Silanos' unexpected dunking would sober him up. She rather hoped it did, that he would come to his senses and realize how stupid he had been and that the two pirates … it was easier to think of them that way and she surmised that she was most likely correct … were preying on him.
Or maybe that notion would not cross his mind even if he had not been drinking at all. From the way he had acted tonight, he was one of those arrogant and privileged nobles who had no idea how the lower class lived and believed that his prestige would protect him. If so, he would certainly not be alone. Most of the lords and ladies she associated with would be completely out of their depths in the lower levels of the city, having no idea how perilous they were.
Athanasia knew that her parents would be furious if they learned of her late-night excursions but they had given her at least two advantages over other high-born girls. She had become street-smart and was unlikely to fall victim to nefarious schemes and she understood what was and was not important to the peasants, and saw those things that they needed most. The latter was something that she would speak to her father about after she figured out a way to explain how she knew.
It appeared that Silanos had been partying in the upper city too. Maybe Lukos had found him there and dragged him down to the city where divesting him of his money would be easier. As she watched the tall pirate stretch, she wondered what he had been doing in the wealthier parts of Midas to keep her mind off of how good-looking he was. “I don't think he's having fun now,” she commented, “but I am. I've never been on a ship quite like yours before. I will never forget it.”
Turning back to peer over the railing, she saw that Saro and Silanos were climbing back to the docks, both of them looking like drowned rats. Without any warning, Lukos grabbed the front of her tunic and tugged, barely missing the soft curve of her breasts beneath her tightly bound strophion. Athanasia instinctively stepped backwards, realizing how close she had come to being found out. It was a risky game she was playing. The longer she remained in the company of the three men, the more dangerous it would become. However, the princess had been enjoying herself so far and wondered what the rest of the night would bring.
Luckily, he let go quickly and she followed him off the ship and to the others, the whore trailing behind them. Silanos seemed just as inebriated as before, or maybe she was witnessing the effects of the poppy she had seen him take, which … so she had heard … wore off more slowly than wine. Lukos was right and he probably wouldn't remember any of them or what he had done tonight. The lord seemed quite amenable to the idea of going home, but the princess knew that she could not go with them. Someone there might recognize her. Her face was well-known among the nobility.
After Saro took his feather back, she decided it was time to go. “I'm sorry, my friends, but I must to take my leave.” She gazed up at the higher levels of the city. “I won't be able to go up there and return before my mother wakes up and she doesn't know I left the house. I wish you good luck on the rest of your journey.”
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Athanasia sensed that there was some kind of silent competition going on between Lukos and Saro. Maybe they were both planning to rob Silanos and wanted to beat each other to it. Was that why Lukos called Saros a good boy, as if he was a dog? Was he trying to aggravate the other sailor/pirate into storming off once he had pulled the lord from the ocean? The way it looked now, Saro was in a better position to make off with the valuables. How hard would it be to take Silanos' money when he climbed up the ladder to the dock? Surely, Saro had seen where Silanos kept it, as he was liberally spending it at the brothel. However, if Silanos noticed it was missing, Lukos would know Saro took it and come to his rescue, perhaps earning a reward. And Saro would go to prison, No, both of them were smarter than that.
After the sailor reached the lord and began pulling him toward the ladder, Athanasia lost interest in them. Instead, she studied the feather that Saro had given her for safekeeping, wondering why he didn't want it to get wet. Perhaps he didn't, and he was afraid that he would lose it. She turned it around in her hands, studying it closely. It looked like its only worth was to the bird that it had originally belonged to. It must have some sort of sentimental value. Maybe it had been a gift from a lover or a member of his family.
Goosebumps suddenly prickled upon her bare arms, and Athanasia glanced at Lukos out of the corner of one eye. While she was observing the feather, he was observing her. She felt naked beneath his intense gaze, like her feminine figure was no longer hidden by her clever clothing manipulations. Had he guessed that she wasn't who she said she was, that she wasn't actually a boy at all?
And so she looked down into the water again to draw his attention back to the drama playing itself out below them. Lukos didn't think that Silanos' unexpected dunking would sober him up. She rather hoped it did, that he would come to his senses and realize how stupid he had been and that the two pirates … it was easier to think of them that way and she surmised that she was most likely correct … were preying on him.
Or maybe that notion would not cross his mind even if he had not been drinking at all. From the way he had acted tonight, he was one of those arrogant and privileged nobles who had no idea how the lower class lived and believed that his prestige would protect him. If so, he would certainly not be alone. Most of the lords and ladies she associated with would be completely out of their depths in the lower levels of the city, having no idea how perilous they were.
Athanasia knew that her parents would be furious if they learned of her late-night excursions but they had given her at least two advantages over other high-born girls. She had become street-smart and was unlikely to fall victim to nefarious schemes and she understood what was and was not important to the peasants, and saw those things that they needed most. The latter was something that she would speak to her father about after she figured out a way to explain how she knew.
It appeared that Silanos had been partying in the upper city too. Maybe Lukos had found him there and dragged him down to the city where divesting him of his money would be easier. As she watched the tall pirate stretch, she wondered what he had been doing in the wealthier parts of Midas to keep her mind off of how good-looking he was. “I don't think he's having fun now,” she commented, “but I am. I've never been on a ship quite like yours before. I will never forget it.”
Turning back to peer over the railing, she saw that Saro and Silanos were climbing back to the docks, both of them looking like drowned rats. Without any warning, Lukos grabbed the front of her tunic and tugged, barely missing the soft curve of her breasts beneath her tightly bound strophion. Athanasia instinctively stepped backwards, realizing how close she had come to being found out. It was a risky game she was playing. The longer she remained in the company of the three men, the more dangerous it would become. However, the princess had been enjoying herself so far and wondered what the rest of the night would bring.
Luckily, he let go quickly and she followed him off the ship and to the others, the whore trailing behind them. Silanos seemed just as inebriated as before, or maybe she was witnessing the effects of the poppy she had seen him take, which … so she had heard … wore off more slowly than wine. Lukos was right and he probably wouldn't remember any of them or what he had done tonight. The lord seemed quite amenable to the idea of going home, but the princess knew that she could not go with them. Someone there might recognize her. Her face was well-known among the nobility.
After Saro took his feather back, she decided it was time to go. “I'm sorry, my friends, but I must to take my leave.” She gazed up at the higher levels of the city. “I won't be able to go up there and return before my mother wakes up and she doesn't know I left the house. I wish you good luck on the rest of your journey.”
Athanasia sensed that there was some kind of silent competition going on between Lukos and Saro. Maybe they were both planning to rob Silanos and wanted to beat each other to it. Was that why Lukos called Saros a good boy, as if he was a dog? Was he trying to aggravate the other sailor/pirate into storming off once he had pulled the lord from the ocean? The way it looked now, Saro was in a better position to make off with the valuables. How hard would it be to take Silanos' money when he climbed up the ladder to the dock? Surely, Saro had seen where Silanos kept it, as he was liberally spending it at the brothel. However, if Silanos noticed it was missing, Lukos would know Saro took it and come to his rescue, perhaps earning a reward. And Saro would go to prison, No, both of them were smarter than that.
After the sailor reached the lord and began pulling him toward the ladder, Athanasia lost interest in them. Instead, she studied the feather that Saro had given her for safekeeping, wondering why he didn't want it to get wet. Perhaps he didn't, and he was afraid that he would lose it. She turned it around in her hands, studying it closely. It looked like its only worth was to the bird that it had originally belonged to. It must have some sort of sentimental value. Maybe it had been a gift from a lover or a member of his family.
Goosebumps suddenly prickled upon her bare arms, and Athanasia glanced at Lukos out of the corner of one eye. While she was observing the feather, he was observing her. She felt naked beneath his intense gaze, like her feminine figure was no longer hidden by her clever clothing manipulations. Had he guessed that she wasn't who she said she was, that she wasn't actually a boy at all?
And so she looked down into the water again to draw his attention back to the drama playing itself out below them. Lukos didn't think that Silanos' unexpected dunking would sober him up. She rather hoped it did, that he would come to his senses and realize how stupid he had been and that the two pirates … it was easier to think of them that way and she surmised that she was most likely correct … were preying on him.
Or maybe that notion would not cross his mind even if he had not been drinking at all. From the way he had acted tonight, he was one of those arrogant and privileged nobles who had no idea how the lower class lived and believed that his prestige would protect him. If so, he would certainly not be alone. Most of the lords and ladies she associated with would be completely out of their depths in the lower levels of the city, having no idea how perilous they were.
Athanasia knew that her parents would be furious if they learned of her late-night excursions but they had given her at least two advantages over other high-born girls. She had become street-smart and was unlikely to fall victim to nefarious schemes and she understood what was and was not important to the peasants, and saw those things that they needed most. The latter was something that she would speak to her father about after she figured out a way to explain how she knew.
It appeared that Silanos had been partying in the upper city too. Maybe Lukos had found him there and dragged him down to the city where divesting him of his money would be easier. As she watched the tall pirate stretch, she wondered what he had been doing in the wealthier parts of Midas to keep her mind off of how good-looking he was. “I don't think he's having fun now,” she commented, “but I am. I've never been on a ship quite like yours before. I will never forget it.”
Turning back to peer over the railing, she saw that Saro and Silanos were climbing back to the docks, both of them looking like drowned rats. Without any warning, Lukos grabbed the front of her tunic and tugged, barely missing the soft curve of her breasts beneath her tightly bound strophion. Athanasia instinctively stepped backwards, realizing how close she had come to being found out. It was a risky game she was playing. The longer she remained in the company of the three men, the more dangerous it would become. However, the princess had been enjoying herself so far and wondered what the rest of the night would bring.
Luckily, he let go quickly and she followed him off the ship and to the others, the whore trailing behind them. Silanos seemed just as inebriated as before, or maybe she was witnessing the effects of the poppy she had seen him take, which … so she had heard … wore off more slowly than wine. Lukos was right and he probably wouldn't remember any of them or what he had done tonight. The lord seemed quite amenable to the idea of going home, but the princess knew that she could not go with them. Someone there might recognize her. Her face was well-known among the nobility.
After Saro took his feather back, she decided it was time to go. “I'm sorry, my friends, but I must to take my leave.” She gazed up at the higher levels of the city. “I won't be able to go up there and return before my mother wakes up and she doesn't know I left the house. I wish you good luck on the rest of your journey.”
Lukos did not know that the only princess of Colchis had been with them for over an hour. He did not know that she was leaving them just as easily as she’d come to them. With a glance over his shoulder at her, and a casual flick of his wrist as though he was the one dismissing her, Lukos spared absolutely no more thought to the poor street urchin. Could he have known who he’d had on his ship, and what that might have meant, he would have vacillated between serious concern to his own well being and serious interest into what sort of a liaison that might turn into - and how profitable that might potentially be. As it stood, he had Silanos for entertainment value and, due to past dealings, knew exactly where the man lived.
Turning his attention to Silanos, he nodded. “Yes, home, my lord,” and made it his life’s ambition to see this drugged up, drunk wastrel home. Lukos did not allow him to deter them a single moment. They moved up the streets at a healthy pace, though not as swiftly as he would have liked. What his ideal was, would be for Saro to somehow have gotten lost. The whore, too.
Their journey was, thankfully, mostly uneventful. Aside from reliving the fantasy he’d had earlier in the night of pushing Silanos down a flight of stairs, he kept his mind on the goal; rob Silanos’s personal stash of...whatever at the man’s home. That would be worth far more than the pleasure of seeing this waste of space dead at the base of the stairs. Worth it by just a hair’s breadth, but worth it all the same. Plus, he’d have to contend with Saro, Silanos’s hero savior. While he wasn’t afraid of Saro and of the opinion that if it came down to it, he, Lukos, would win in an out and out fight, Lukos wasn’t that wreckless. A fight meant healing time and healing time meant he had less opportunity to make valuable coin. Killing Silanos and fighting Saro to do it just wasn’t worth the trouble.
By the time they came within view of Silanos’s house, half of Lukos’s shirt was sopping wet. At the first set of stairs, he’d taken the chance to bodily put himself at the inebriated lord’s disposal and did what he’d done for Silanos before, which was steady him as they made their way up the stairs. That meant, of course, that Silanos was still wet from his little swim in the Aegean and that by the time they reached the front gate and were under the light of torches in the courtyard, all three looked like a bedraggled mess.
“Best to get you changed before you catch your death of cold,” Lukos said flatly to Silanos, not at all caring if Sil died or not. He just wanted inside the house.
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Lukos did not know that the only princess of Colchis had been with them for over an hour. He did not know that she was leaving them just as easily as she’d come to them. With a glance over his shoulder at her, and a casual flick of his wrist as though he was the one dismissing her, Lukos spared absolutely no more thought to the poor street urchin. Could he have known who he’d had on his ship, and what that might have meant, he would have vacillated between serious concern to his own well being and serious interest into what sort of a liaison that might turn into - and how profitable that might potentially be. As it stood, he had Silanos for entertainment value and, due to past dealings, knew exactly where the man lived.
Turning his attention to Silanos, he nodded. “Yes, home, my lord,” and made it his life’s ambition to see this drugged up, drunk wastrel home. Lukos did not allow him to deter them a single moment. They moved up the streets at a healthy pace, though not as swiftly as he would have liked. What his ideal was, would be for Saro to somehow have gotten lost. The whore, too.
Their journey was, thankfully, mostly uneventful. Aside from reliving the fantasy he’d had earlier in the night of pushing Silanos down a flight of stairs, he kept his mind on the goal; rob Silanos’s personal stash of...whatever at the man’s home. That would be worth far more than the pleasure of seeing this waste of space dead at the base of the stairs. Worth it by just a hair’s breadth, but worth it all the same. Plus, he’d have to contend with Saro, Silanos’s hero savior. While he wasn’t afraid of Saro and of the opinion that if it came down to it, he, Lukos, would win in an out and out fight, Lukos wasn’t that wreckless. A fight meant healing time and healing time meant he had less opportunity to make valuable coin. Killing Silanos and fighting Saro to do it just wasn’t worth the trouble.
By the time they came within view of Silanos’s house, half of Lukos’s shirt was sopping wet. At the first set of stairs, he’d taken the chance to bodily put himself at the inebriated lord’s disposal and did what he’d done for Silanos before, which was steady him as they made their way up the stairs. That meant, of course, that Silanos was still wet from his little swim in the Aegean and that by the time they reached the front gate and were under the light of torches in the courtyard, all three looked like a bedraggled mess.
“Best to get you changed before you catch your death of cold,” Lukos said flatly to Silanos, not at all caring if Sil died or not. He just wanted inside the house.
Lukos did not know that the only princess of Colchis had been with them for over an hour. He did not know that she was leaving them just as easily as she’d come to them. With a glance over his shoulder at her, and a casual flick of his wrist as though he was the one dismissing her, Lukos spared absolutely no more thought to the poor street urchin. Could he have known who he’d had on his ship, and what that might have meant, he would have vacillated between serious concern to his own well being and serious interest into what sort of a liaison that might turn into - and how profitable that might potentially be. As it stood, he had Silanos for entertainment value and, due to past dealings, knew exactly where the man lived.
Turning his attention to Silanos, he nodded. “Yes, home, my lord,” and made it his life’s ambition to see this drugged up, drunk wastrel home. Lukos did not allow him to deter them a single moment. They moved up the streets at a healthy pace, though not as swiftly as he would have liked. What his ideal was, would be for Saro to somehow have gotten lost. The whore, too.
Their journey was, thankfully, mostly uneventful. Aside from reliving the fantasy he’d had earlier in the night of pushing Silanos down a flight of stairs, he kept his mind on the goal; rob Silanos’s personal stash of...whatever at the man’s home. That would be worth far more than the pleasure of seeing this waste of space dead at the base of the stairs. Worth it by just a hair’s breadth, but worth it all the same. Plus, he’d have to contend with Saro, Silanos’s hero savior. While he wasn’t afraid of Saro and of the opinion that if it came down to it, he, Lukos, would win in an out and out fight, Lukos wasn’t that wreckless. A fight meant healing time and healing time meant he had less opportunity to make valuable coin. Killing Silanos and fighting Saro to do it just wasn’t worth the trouble.
By the time they came within view of Silanos’s house, half of Lukos’s shirt was sopping wet. At the first set of stairs, he’d taken the chance to bodily put himself at the inebriated lord’s disposal and did what he’d done for Silanos before, which was steady him as they made their way up the stairs. That meant, of course, that Silanos was still wet from his little swim in the Aegean and that by the time they reached the front gate and were under the light of torches in the courtyard, all three looked like a bedraggled mess.
“Best to get you changed before you catch your death of cold,” Lukos said flatly to Silanos, not at all caring if Sil died or not. He just wanted inside the house.
It would have been a miserable trudge through the city, had it not been for the buffer of comfort offered by the Poppy still flowing through Sil’s veins. The Valaoritis Lord did not even notice when one of their company left them, focusing instead on the strangely challenging act of making his legs do what he wanted them to. Oddly heavy, he was glad of the supporting arm offered by Lukos when they came to the steps he vaguely recalled coming down earlier.
“I don’t even like ships” he muttered as he tried to recall why they had headed down to the docks anyway. His gift to his brother, the most important part of what he could remember about their night, trailed along behind them, and Silanos began explaining to her once again that his brother, the baron, was really very stressed and overworked, and seemed to have forgotten entirely what fun was.
“...he has grown dull whilst I have been away, and old before his time. Somebody needs to do something about it,” he concluded, as he blinked and realised that they stood outside the house Timaeus had taken in the capital. “ Shhhhh now, he might be sleeping,” he said, before proceeding to make an abysmal amount of noise stumbling through the front door and calling loudly.
“Brother! I have a gift for you!” Silanos had slipped out from Lukos’ grasp and was beckoning the whore forward. “ Come on, come on”. And then because they were standing there like idiots, he rolled his eyes at the other two. “You can...get dry in the kitchens or something. There’ll be wine there somewhere”. They both looked bedraggled, and Sil realised with a scowl that he was too.
Still waiting for his brother to appear, he led the way into the kitchen where there was the banked remains of a fire in the hearth still. The Lord rummaged around until he triumphantly produced a jug of wine, setting it on the table of the thump. And then with an expansive wave of an arm, Sil left Saro and Lukos there. “Make yourselves at home”.
He took the blonde by the hand and shambled his way down the hallway towards the family’s rooms, calling again for his brother. “TIM. Where are you?” Gods fuck he hadn’t been to all this trouble just to have his dumb brother sleep through it all and miss out on his thoughtful gift.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It would have been a miserable trudge through the city, had it not been for the buffer of comfort offered by the Poppy still flowing through Sil’s veins. The Valaoritis Lord did not even notice when one of their company left them, focusing instead on the strangely challenging act of making his legs do what he wanted them to. Oddly heavy, he was glad of the supporting arm offered by Lukos when they came to the steps he vaguely recalled coming down earlier.
“I don’t even like ships” he muttered as he tried to recall why they had headed down to the docks anyway. His gift to his brother, the most important part of what he could remember about their night, trailed along behind them, and Silanos began explaining to her once again that his brother, the baron, was really very stressed and overworked, and seemed to have forgotten entirely what fun was.
“...he has grown dull whilst I have been away, and old before his time. Somebody needs to do something about it,” he concluded, as he blinked and realised that they stood outside the house Timaeus had taken in the capital. “ Shhhhh now, he might be sleeping,” he said, before proceeding to make an abysmal amount of noise stumbling through the front door and calling loudly.
“Brother! I have a gift for you!” Silanos had slipped out from Lukos’ grasp and was beckoning the whore forward. “ Come on, come on”. And then because they were standing there like idiots, he rolled his eyes at the other two. “You can...get dry in the kitchens or something. There’ll be wine there somewhere”. They both looked bedraggled, and Sil realised with a scowl that he was too.
Still waiting for his brother to appear, he led the way into the kitchen where there was the banked remains of a fire in the hearth still. The Lord rummaged around until he triumphantly produced a jug of wine, setting it on the table of the thump. And then with an expansive wave of an arm, Sil left Saro and Lukos there. “Make yourselves at home”.
He took the blonde by the hand and shambled his way down the hallway towards the family’s rooms, calling again for his brother. “TIM. Where are you?” Gods fuck he hadn’t been to all this trouble just to have his dumb brother sleep through it all and miss out on his thoughtful gift.
It would have been a miserable trudge through the city, had it not been for the buffer of comfort offered by the Poppy still flowing through Sil’s veins. The Valaoritis Lord did not even notice when one of their company left them, focusing instead on the strangely challenging act of making his legs do what he wanted them to. Oddly heavy, he was glad of the supporting arm offered by Lukos when they came to the steps he vaguely recalled coming down earlier.
“I don’t even like ships” he muttered as he tried to recall why they had headed down to the docks anyway. His gift to his brother, the most important part of what he could remember about their night, trailed along behind them, and Silanos began explaining to her once again that his brother, the baron, was really very stressed and overworked, and seemed to have forgotten entirely what fun was.
“...he has grown dull whilst I have been away, and old before his time. Somebody needs to do something about it,” he concluded, as he blinked and realised that they stood outside the house Timaeus had taken in the capital. “ Shhhhh now, he might be sleeping,” he said, before proceeding to make an abysmal amount of noise stumbling through the front door and calling loudly.
“Brother! I have a gift for you!” Silanos had slipped out from Lukos’ grasp and was beckoning the whore forward. “ Come on, come on”. And then because they were standing there like idiots, he rolled his eyes at the other two. “You can...get dry in the kitchens or something. There’ll be wine there somewhere”. They both looked bedraggled, and Sil realised with a scowl that he was too.
Still waiting for his brother to appear, he led the way into the kitchen where there was the banked remains of a fire in the hearth still. The Lord rummaged around until he triumphantly produced a jug of wine, setting it on the table of the thump. And then with an expansive wave of an arm, Sil left Saro and Lukos there. “Make yourselves at home”.
He took the blonde by the hand and shambled his way down the hallway towards the family’s rooms, calling again for his brother. “TIM. Where are you?” Gods fuck he hadn’t been to all this trouble just to have his dumb brother sleep through it all and miss out on his thoughtful gift.
Even though the boys would never admit it, the Valaoritis brothers had more in common than they would like to think. But nothing was shared between them more strongly than the love of a stiff drink.
Unlike Silanos though, at least Timaeus was smart enough to hide this vice of his behind the closed doors of the Valaoritis manor. Many evenings for him ended with him locking himself in his office as he found the bottom of the wine skien he had brought in with him. No one was allowed in that room until Timaeus managed to stumble out at some ungodly hour where some poor servant waiting outside would help guide the Baron back to his plush bed. After sleeping the drink off, he’d go about his business the next day as if the night before had never happened.
That was the rule in the Valaoritis household: the previous night never happened.
No one spoke of what happened when Timaeus shut out the world and retreated to the one room that no servant or insistent family member could enter without his permission. Any servant who dared to whisper about the sobs they could hear through the door was instantly hushed by the others out of the fear of their master overhearing them. It was, without question, a forbidden topic in the Valaoritis household and one that Timaeus preferred to keep that way as his reaction to the drink stemmed from something much deeper than him just merely being a sad drunk. Alcohol was the only way he allowed himself to grieve.
During the day, he had to shut out all the feelings and memories of the family he had lost. (His uncle to the sands of Egypt, his father to illness, and his own brother to circumstances so mysterious that some claimed that Timaeus had poisoned him.) The Valaoritis lord couldn’t let himself even think of the men he missed more than he missed his life at sea. It was just too painful and after living in such a twisted coping mechanism for so long, it seemed to be that any recollections of them would end in tears. Timaeus couldn’t allow himself to be seen in such a state; not when he had to be as hard and cold as the mountains that he called home. He couldn’t allow any of them; the people of his province, his family, himself, to see him in such a weakened state. So, Timaeus hid his feelings, buried them deep under the surface until they could be brought bubbling to the surface when his inhibitions were lowered and he wouldn’t remember the fit of tears the next day.
It wasn’t healthy. Tim knew that, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He had to appear strong and crying about men long dead was not the epitome of strength.
This is where Timaeus was when his brother was frequenting with pirates and princesses in disguise; locked in his office with a few more goblets worth of wine left in the skien. His cheeks were red and shiny with the tear tracts that had formed throughout the evening, but the sobs that normally accompanied them had long since died down due to the Baron’s own exhaustion. The night was wearing on and it was almost time for Timaeus to put down his hidden hobby and head off to bed. In fact, if he didn’t move soon he’d probably fall asleep where he was, slumped over his desk while using his aching arm as a pillow. Sleep was tugging at his eyelids so heavily, that he didn’t hear the crashing noise that came with the trio’s arrival at the manor. A cry from Silanos calling for his equally drunk brother did little to rouse Timaeus as his mind waved it off as some sort of dream. He was just too far gone to discern what was or was not reality anymore. Timaeus didn’t care for whatever was happening outside his office with all the banging and clattering. He just wanted to sleep.
But leave it to Silanos to not settle for anything other than less than seeing Tim’s pretty mug at this hour.
The persistent little bastard.
As Silanos kept calling for Timaeus, the repeated use of the Baron’s name began to pull the Valaoritis lord from the precipice of drunken sleep. It didn’t matter how loud the shouts were; every call of Timaues’s name caused his eyelids to flutter open just enough that after a few minutes of Silanos making a racket, Timaeus was just barely awake enough to stumble from his desk to the locked door. It took him a few seconds for him to lift the latch as the drink had made his coordination less than stellar. Inevitably though, he managed to get it and swung the door open just enough for the Baron to stumble through to see what all the fuss was about. If Saro and Lukos had followed Silanos into the family’s private quarters, they would instantly see that the human mop’s brother was just as gone as the other fool was from the slight sway in his stance his need to brace himself against the wall so he didn’t fall over.
One hand gripped the doorframe while the other latched onto a table that sat in the hallway, just outside the Baron’s office. The sheer force of the Colchian soldier wobbling shook the unsturdy structure that was made only for display, not for practical use. The creaking of the table’s wood and the sharp jolting as the items on it were shaken back and forth called attention to the display on it. The table was a shrine of sorts for the family as all the items on it had some sort of significance to them. It was a truly medley of items; A pair of keys were proudly displayed in the center, a journal filled with the scrawling looping handwriting of a grandmother Timaeus had never known, a glittering sword that belonged to the uncle lost in the sands of Egypt. However, the only thing that would draw the attention of the interlopers in the Midas household was the most inconspicuous item; a small bracelet tucked next to a golden goblet.
Although it seemed entirely worthless at first glance, two of the men in the room held a significant attachment to it. For the one who rightfully owned it, it was a symbol of a friendship made in a era that was long past. For the other? It was the symbol of a long lost love. Treasured by both and invaluable to one, Timaeus had no idea that he would be parting with this little trinket tonight.
No, instead he was far more concerned with his brother. “ Whaddoyou want?” Timaeus said, horribly slurring his words as he turned himself as best as he could to the brother who was making a racket. Had Timaeus been sober, he might have quizzed Silanos on who these strangers with him were… but that was hardly the first thing on his mind as he tried to discern which of the three Sils that seemed to be before him was the real one.
Seeing multiple Sils hurt his brain so much that Tim was forced to look away from him, catching sight of the ‘gift’ that Silanos was so desperate to give him. Instantly, the baron perked up as he looked over the whore as best as he could given his sorry state. The sight of any woman, while he was in this state, would have been enough to have his blood roar within him; but he was truly a goner when he caught sight of the impossibly light blonde hair of the girl. A wide drunken grin crossed his face as he reached out to try and touch the girl's hair. She ducked out of the way, of course, causing a light giggle to bubble up on the baron. He had always had a thing for blondes. Especially when they were so few and far between in the dark lands of Colchis.
“ ’Nd who ‘re you?” He drunkenly slurred, trying his best to appear sober as he let go of his supports and tried to cross over to the girl. However, there was just too much wine in him as he stumbled and nearly tripped on an ornate rug on the ground. Although Timaeus did not fall completely, he did bump into Silanos which caused the man to apologize as well as he could given the circumstances “ Sorry, sorry. ‘Idn’t mean to.” Surely these antics would bring a chuckle to the other men who had the misfortune of witnessing the two hopelessly drunk brothers interacting.
However, Timaeus didn’t care. They could speak to him directly, but the lord wouldn’t hear while he was in this sorry state and so fixated on the blonde girl who he could not stop staring and giggling at. Even as he asked his brother a very important question, still completely in the dark that was handpicked just for him; “ Is she ‘ours Sil? Wanna share?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Even though the boys would never admit it, the Valaoritis brothers had more in common than they would like to think. But nothing was shared between them more strongly than the love of a stiff drink.
Unlike Silanos though, at least Timaeus was smart enough to hide this vice of his behind the closed doors of the Valaoritis manor. Many evenings for him ended with him locking himself in his office as he found the bottom of the wine skien he had brought in with him. No one was allowed in that room until Timaeus managed to stumble out at some ungodly hour where some poor servant waiting outside would help guide the Baron back to his plush bed. After sleeping the drink off, he’d go about his business the next day as if the night before had never happened.
That was the rule in the Valaoritis household: the previous night never happened.
No one spoke of what happened when Timaeus shut out the world and retreated to the one room that no servant or insistent family member could enter without his permission. Any servant who dared to whisper about the sobs they could hear through the door was instantly hushed by the others out of the fear of their master overhearing them. It was, without question, a forbidden topic in the Valaoritis household and one that Timaeus preferred to keep that way as his reaction to the drink stemmed from something much deeper than him just merely being a sad drunk. Alcohol was the only way he allowed himself to grieve.
During the day, he had to shut out all the feelings and memories of the family he had lost. (His uncle to the sands of Egypt, his father to illness, and his own brother to circumstances so mysterious that some claimed that Timaeus had poisoned him.) The Valaoritis lord couldn’t let himself even think of the men he missed more than he missed his life at sea. It was just too painful and after living in such a twisted coping mechanism for so long, it seemed to be that any recollections of them would end in tears. Timaeus couldn’t allow himself to be seen in such a state; not when he had to be as hard and cold as the mountains that he called home. He couldn’t allow any of them; the people of his province, his family, himself, to see him in such a weakened state. So, Timaeus hid his feelings, buried them deep under the surface until they could be brought bubbling to the surface when his inhibitions were lowered and he wouldn’t remember the fit of tears the next day.
It wasn’t healthy. Tim knew that, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He had to appear strong and crying about men long dead was not the epitome of strength.
This is where Timaeus was when his brother was frequenting with pirates and princesses in disguise; locked in his office with a few more goblets worth of wine left in the skien. His cheeks were red and shiny with the tear tracts that had formed throughout the evening, but the sobs that normally accompanied them had long since died down due to the Baron’s own exhaustion. The night was wearing on and it was almost time for Timaeus to put down his hidden hobby and head off to bed. In fact, if he didn’t move soon he’d probably fall asleep where he was, slumped over his desk while using his aching arm as a pillow. Sleep was tugging at his eyelids so heavily, that he didn’t hear the crashing noise that came with the trio’s arrival at the manor. A cry from Silanos calling for his equally drunk brother did little to rouse Timaeus as his mind waved it off as some sort of dream. He was just too far gone to discern what was or was not reality anymore. Timaeus didn’t care for whatever was happening outside his office with all the banging and clattering. He just wanted to sleep.
But leave it to Silanos to not settle for anything other than less than seeing Tim’s pretty mug at this hour.
The persistent little bastard.
As Silanos kept calling for Timaeus, the repeated use of the Baron’s name began to pull the Valaoritis lord from the precipice of drunken sleep. It didn’t matter how loud the shouts were; every call of Timaues’s name caused his eyelids to flutter open just enough that after a few minutes of Silanos making a racket, Timaeus was just barely awake enough to stumble from his desk to the locked door. It took him a few seconds for him to lift the latch as the drink had made his coordination less than stellar. Inevitably though, he managed to get it and swung the door open just enough for the Baron to stumble through to see what all the fuss was about. If Saro and Lukos had followed Silanos into the family’s private quarters, they would instantly see that the human mop’s brother was just as gone as the other fool was from the slight sway in his stance his need to brace himself against the wall so he didn’t fall over.
One hand gripped the doorframe while the other latched onto a table that sat in the hallway, just outside the Baron’s office. The sheer force of the Colchian soldier wobbling shook the unsturdy structure that was made only for display, not for practical use. The creaking of the table’s wood and the sharp jolting as the items on it were shaken back and forth called attention to the display on it. The table was a shrine of sorts for the family as all the items on it had some sort of significance to them. It was a truly medley of items; A pair of keys were proudly displayed in the center, a journal filled with the scrawling looping handwriting of a grandmother Timaeus had never known, a glittering sword that belonged to the uncle lost in the sands of Egypt. However, the only thing that would draw the attention of the interlopers in the Midas household was the most inconspicuous item; a small bracelet tucked next to a golden goblet.
Although it seemed entirely worthless at first glance, two of the men in the room held a significant attachment to it. For the one who rightfully owned it, it was a symbol of a friendship made in a era that was long past. For the other? It was the symbol of a long lost love. Treasured by both and invaluable to one, Timaeus had no idea that he would be parting with this little trinket tonight.
No, instead he was far more concerned with his brother. “ Whaddoyou want?” Timaeus said, horribly slurring his words as he turned himself as best as he could to the brother who was making a racket. Had Timaeus been sober, he might have quizzed Silanos on who these strangers with him were… but that was hardly the first thing on his mind as he tried to discern which of the three Sils that seemed to be before him was the real one.
Seeing multiple Sils hurt his brain so much that Tim was forced to look away from him, catching sight of the ‘gift’ that Silanos was so desperate to give him. Instantly, the baron perked up as he looked over the whore as best as he could given his sorry state. The sight of any woman, while he was in this state, would have been enough to have his blood roar within him; but he was truly a goner when he caught sight of the impossibly light blonde hair of the girl. A wide drunken grin crossed his face as he reached out to try and touch the girl's hair. She ducked out of the way, of course, causing a light giggle to bubble up on the baron. He had always had a thing for blondes. Especially when they were so few and far between in the dark lands of Colchis.
“ ’Nd who ‘re you?” He drunkenly slurred, trying his best to appear sober as he let go of his supports and tried to cross over to the girl. However, there was just too much wine in him as he stumbled and nearly tripped on an ornate rug on the ground. Although Timaeus did not fall completely, he did bump into Silanos which caused the man to apologize as well as he could given the circumstances “ Sorry, sorry. ‘Idn’t mean to.” Surely these antics would bring a chuckle to the other men who had the misfortune of witnessing the two hopelessly drunk brothers interacting.
However, Timaeus didn’t care. They could speak to him directly, but the lord wouldn’t hear while he was in this sorry state and so fixated on the blonde girl who he could not stop staring and giggling at. Even as he asked his brother a very important question, still completely in the dark that was handpicked just for him; “ Is she ‘ours Sil? Wanna share?”
Even though the boys would never admit it, the Valaoritis brothers had more in common than they would like to think. But nothing was shared between them more strongly than the love of a stiff drink.
Unlike Silanos though, at least Timaeus was smart enough to hide this vice of his behind the closed doors of the Valaoritis manor. Many evenings for him ended with him locking himself in his office as he found the bottom of the wine skien he had brought in with him. No one was allowed in that room until Timaeus managed to stumble out at some ungodly hour where some poor servant waiting outside would help guide the Baron back to his plush bed. After sleeping the drink off, he’d go about his business the next day as if the night before had never happened.
That was the rule in the Valaoritis household: the previous night never happened.
No one spoke of what happened when Timaeus shut out the world and retreated to the one room that no servant or insistent family member could enter without his permission. Any servant who dared to whisper about the sobs they could hear through the door was instantly hushed by the others out of the fear of their master overhearing them. It was, without question, a forbidden topic in the Valaoritis household and one that Timaeus preferred to keep that way as his reaction to the drink stemmed from something much deeper than him just merely being a sad drunk. Alcohol was the only way he allowed himself to grieve.
During the day, he had to shut out all the feelings and memories of the family he had lost. (His uncle to the sands of Egypt, his father to illness, and his own brother to circumstances so mysterious that some claimed that Timaeus had poisoned him.) The Valaoritis lord couldn’t let himself even think of the men he missed more than he missed his life at sea. It was just too painful and after living in such a twisted coping mechanism for so long, it seemed to be that any recollections of them would end in tears. Timaeus couldn’t allow himself to be seen in such a state; not when he had to be as hard and cold as the mountains that he called home. He couldn’t allow any of them; the people of his province, his family, himself, to see him in such a weakened state. So, Timaeus hid his feelings, buried them deep under the surface until they could be brought bubbling to the surface when his inhibitions were lowered and he wouldn’t remember the fit of tears the next day.
It wasn’t healthy. Tim knew that, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He had to appear strong and crying about men long dead was not the epitome of strength.
This is where Timaeus was when his brother was frequenting with pirates and princesses in disguise; locked in his office with a few more goblets worth of wine left in the skien. His cheeks were red and shiny with the tear tracts that had formed throughout the evening, but the sobs that normally accompanied them had long since died down due to the Baron’s own exhaustion. The night was wearing on and it was almost time for Timaeus to put down his hidden hobby and head off to bed. In fact, if he didn’t move soon he’d probably fall asleep where he was, slumped over his desk while using his aching arm as a pillow. Sleep was tugging at his eyelids so heavily, that he didn’t hear the crashing noise that came with the trio’s arrival at the manor. A cry from Silanos calling for his equally drunk brother did little to rouse Timaeus as his mind waved it off as some sort of dream. He was just too far gone to discern what was or was not reality anymore. Timaeus didn’t care for whatever was happening outside his office with all the banging and clattering. He just wanted to sleep.
But leave it to Silanos to not settle for anything other than less than seeing Tim’s pretty mug at this hour.
The persistent little bastard.
As Silanos kept calling for Timaeus, the repeated use of the Baron’s name began to pull the Valaoritis lord from the precipice of drunken sleep. It didn’t matter how loud the shouts were; every call of Timaues’s name caused his eyelids to flutter open just enough that after a few minutes of Silanos making a racket, Timaeus was just barely awake enough to stumble from his desk to the locked door. It took him a few seconds for him to lift the latch as the drink had made his coordination less than stellar. Inevitably though, he managed to get it and swung the door open just enough for the Baron to stumble through to see what all the fuss was about. If Saro and Lukos had followed Silanos into the family’s private quarters, they would instantly see that the human mop’s brother was just as gone as the other fool was from the slight sway in his stance his need to brace himself against the wall so he didn’t fall over.
One hand gripped the doorframe while the other latched onto a table that sat in the hallway, just outside the Baron’s office. The sheer force of the Colchian soldier wobbling shook the unsturdy structure that was made only for display, not for practical use. The creaking of the table’s wood and the sharp jolting as the items on it were shaken back and forth called attention to the display on it. The table was a shrine of sorts for the family as all the items on it had some sort of significance to them. It was a truly medley of items; A pair of keys were proudly displayed in the center, a journal filled with the scrawling looping handwriting of a grandmother Timaeus had never known, a glittering sword that belonged to the uncle lost in the sands of Egypt. However, the only thing that would draw the attention of the interlopers in the Midas household was the most inconspicuous item; a small bracelet tucked next to a golden goblet.
Although it seemed entirely worthless at first glance, two of the men in the room held a significant attachment to it. For the one who rightfully owned it, it was a symbol of a friendship made in a era that was long past. For the other? It was the symbol of a long lost love. Treasured by both and invaluable to one, Timaeus had no idea that he would be parting with this little trinket tonight.
No, instead he was far more concerned with his brother. “ Whaddoyou want?” Timaeus said, horribly slurring his words as he turned himself as best as he could to the brother who was making a racket. Had Timaeus been sober, he might have quizzed Silanos on who these strangers with him were… but that was hardly the first thing on his mind as he tried to discern which of the three Sils that seemed to be before him was the real one.
Seeing multiple Sils hurt his brain so much that Tim was forced to look away from him, catching sight of the ‘gift’ that Silanos was so desperate to give him. Instantly, the baron perked up as he looked over the whore as best as he could given his sorry state. The sight of any woman, while he was in this state, would have been enough to have his blood roar within him; but he was truly a goner when he caught sight of the impossibly light blonde hair of the girl. A wide drunken grin crossed his face as he reached out to try and touch the girl's hair. She ducked out of the way, of course, causing a light giggle to bubble up on the baron. He had always had a thing for blondes. Especially when they were so few and far between in the dark lands of Colchis.
“ ’Nd who ‘re you?” He drunkenly slurred, trying his best to appear sober as he let go of his supports and tried to cross over to the girl. However, there was just too much wine in him as he stumbled and nearly tripped on an ornate rug on the ground. Although Timaeus did not fall completely, he did bump into Silanos which caused the man to apologize as well as he could given the circumstances “ Sorry, sorry. ‘Idn’t mean to.” Surely these antics would bring a chuckle to the other men who had the misfortune of witnessing the two hopelessly drunk brothers interacting.
However, Timaeus didn’t care. They could speak to him directly, but the lord wouldn’t hear while he was in this sorry state and so fixated on the blonde girl who he could not stop staring and giggling at. Even as he asked his brother a very important question, still completely in the dark that was handpicked just for him; “ Is she ‘ours Sil? Wanna share?”
They entered the house and almost immediately the drunken lord began shouting for someone. Saro assumed it was the brother he had been so determined to present the blonde woman to. The pirate kept following Silanos, still waiting for the right moment to sneak off and attempt to find something that might make this night more profitable than planned. Suddenly another man came stumbling out from a set of doors in front of them, and Saro couldn’t help but snicker. He looked just about as intoxicated as Silanos, though he likely had a better night than his brother who had been used as a mop and tossed into the cold water of the sea.
Saro didn’t see an opportunity to sneak away, at least not yet. There were too many eyes on him that it was likely that one of them would see him if he tried to make his way out of the room and further into the house.
He watched as the other man stumbled his way forward toward the blonde, and he laughed once more. These two were quite a pair, and under different circumstances, Saro might have gotten along with them and perhaps even shared a drink. But tonight, he was sober. Or well, as sober as he ever was. Definitely not as out of it as the two brothers were.
He was about to make some comment when his eyes caught something, and he felt like his heart had stopped in his chest. On the table that Timaeus had nearly knocked over, sitting among a bunch of things that seemed to hold no real value, was a bracelet. One that was far too familiar. One that sent a wave of heartbreak through the long-haired pirate as he pictured that bracelet where it belonged. On Adre’s wrist. The bracelet Saro had purchased for him the first day they had met.
The good mood he had been in quickly changed, and his only focus was that bracelet. To think that Adrestus had just given it up, left it here with his friend so he wouldn’t have to see it. It hit him then, Timaeus was… that Timaeus. He had forgotten about him, one of Adre’s friends, one of the friends that the two had snuck around to avoid being caught when together.
Saro needed to get out of there, in case the drunken Timaeus recognized him. But not without that bracelet.
Silanos and Timaeus seemed distracted with the blonde woman, and he didn’t care if the other two saw him grab the bracelet. He would probably never see either of them again.
He stepped forward as the lords were busy with the whore, and he slipped the bracelet from the table, subtly sliding it into his pocket. Once he had the bracelet, he chose to take his leave. His mind occupied with other thoughts now, he simply skirted around the group and headed for the front door, stepping into the cool night air, his thoughts raced as he headed back for his ship, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and be alone.
So much for a profitable night.
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They entered the house and almost immediately the drunken lord began shouting for someone. Saro assumed it was the brother he had been so determined to present the blonde woman to. The pirate kept following Silanos, still waiting for the right moment to sneak off and attempt to find something that might make this night more profitable than planned. Suddenly another man came stumbling out from a set of doors in front of them, and Saro couldn’t help but snicker. He looked just about as intoxicated as Silanos, though he likely had a better night than his brother who had been used as a mop and tossed into the cold water of the sea.
Saro didn’t see an opportunity to sneak away, at least not yet. There were too many eyes on him that it was likely that one of them would see him if he tried to make his way out of the room and further into the house.
He watched as the other man stumbled his way forward toward the blonde, and he laughed once more. These two were quite a pair, and under different circumstances, Saro might have gotten along with them and perhaps even shared a drink. But tonight, he was sober. Or well, as sober as he ever was. Definitely not as out of it as the two brothers were.
He was about to make some comment when his eyes caught something, and he felt like his heart had stopped in his chest. On the table that Timaeus had nearly knocked over, sitting among a bunch of things that seemed to hold no real value, was a bracelet. One that was far too familiar. One that sent a wave of heartbreak through the long-haired pirate as he pictured that bracelet where it belonged. On Adre’s wrist. The bracelet Saro had purchased for him the first day they had met.
The good mood he had been in quickly changed, and his only focus was that bracelet. To think that Adrestus had just given it up, left it here with his friend so he wouldn’t have to see it. It hit him then, Timaeus was… that Timaeus. He had forgotten about him, one of Adre’s friends, one of the friends that the two had snuck around to avoid being caught when together.
Saro needed to get out of there, in case the drunken Timaeus recognized him. But not without that bracelet.
Silanos and Timaeus seemed distracted with the blonde woman, and he didn’t care if the other two saw him grab the bracelet. He would probably never see either of them again.
He stepped forward as the lords were busy with the whore, and he slipped the bracelet from the table, subtly sliding it into his pocket. Once he had the bracelet, he chose to take his leave. His mind occupied with other thoughts now, he simply skirted around the group and headed for the front door, stepping into the cool night air, his thoughts raced as he headed back for his ship, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and be alone.
So much for a profitable night.
They entered the house and almost immediately the drunken lord began shouting for someone. Saro assumed it was the brother he had been so determined to present the blonde woman to. The pirate kept following Silanos, still waiting for the right moment to sneak off and attempt to find something that might make this night more profitable than planned. Suddenly another man came stumbling out from a set of doors in front of them, and Saro couldn’t help but snicker. He looked just about as intoxicated as Silanos, though he likely had a better night than his brother who had been used as a mop and tossed into the cold water of the sea.
Saro didn’t see an opportunity to sneak away, at least not yet. There were too many eyes on him that it was likely that one of them would see him if he tried to make his way out of the room and further into the house.
He watched as the other man stumbled his way forward toward the blonde, and he laughed once more. These two were quite a pair, and under different circumstances, Saro might have gotten along with them and perhaps even shared a drink. But tonight, he was sober. Or well, as sober as he ever was. Definitely not as out of it as the two brothers were.
He was about to make some comment when his eyes caught something, and he felt like his heart had stopped in his chest. On the table that Timaeus had nearly knocked over, sitting among a bunch of things that seemed to hold no real value, was a bracelet. One that was far too familiar. One that sent a wave of heartbreak through the long-haired pirate as he pictured that bracelet where it belonged. On Adre’s wrist. The bracelet Saro had purchased for him the first day they had met.
The good mood he had been in quickly changed, and his only focus was that bracelet. To think that Adrestus had just given it up, left it here with his friend so he wouldn’t have to see it. It hit him then, Timaeus was… that Timaeus. He had forgotten about him, one of Adre’s friends, one of the friends that the two had snuck around to avoid being caught when together.
Saro needed to get out of there, in case the drunken Timaeus recognized him. But not without that bracelet.
Silanos and Timaeus seemed distracted with the blonde woman, and he didn’t care if the other two saw him grab the bracelet. He would probably never see either of them again.
He stepped forward as the lords were busy with the whore, and he slipped the bracelet from the table, subtly sliding it into his pocket. Once he had the bracelet, he chose to take his leave. His mind occupied with other thoughts now, he simply skirted around the group and headed for the front door, stepping into the cool night air, his thoughts raced as he headed back for his ship, wanting nothing more than to get out of there and be alone.
So much for a profitable night.
If Lukos didn’t have a plan in place to make his time with Silanos worth while, he’d have been in no mood to deal with the slurring, staggering, wet Silanos. They moved into the house, both Silanos and Saro wet from their little dip in the Aegean, and Lukos damp on one side from having to be the lord’s helpmate through the streets of the city; a task he gladly performed for a chance to enter this house. It was a place he’d been before, in the courtyard, at least. He’d delivered slaves and Silanos, as seemed usual, had ordered the delivery to be done at night; as though buying slaves for private use was illegal, or something. Lukos, however, had done what the lord had stipulated, but he’d not entered the house.
Now, Silanos led him inside and he blinked in the candlelight of the foyer, holding up one hand, letting his eyes adjust as he looked around. The family shrine held sentimental items that did not interest the pirate in the least. The sword was worth something, the golden goblet was worth something, the rest of it might as well have been dust. Lukos curled his lip at the display, eyes half lidded in contempt. What. On. Earth. Never mind that all the things he kept back on his island at home were in a jumble of crates, all stack haphazard and precarious; the only place he allowed such untidy habits. It was all only going to be hauled out anyway.
Silanos sopped his way to the kitchen and Lukos trailed slowly after him, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, watching the young lord sifting about for wine. The whore lingered in the foyer with Saro, unsure. Lukos said nothing as Silanos thumped wine on the tabletop, only to then bring it with him back out of the kitchen. Though Sil had instructed Lukos to make himself at home there, Lukos would do nothing of the kind. He wasn’t here for a social call and if he was? He still wouldn’t have been stashed in the fucking kitchen like a servant. Sauntering after Silanos and rejoining the other two in the foyer, Lukos kept his arms tightly folded over his chest, ignoring Sil bellowing for Timaeus, someone Lukos had also met previously.
He eyed Saro as the man’s expression abruptly changed. Saro drifted over to the table and lifted the worthless bracelet off the display, putting it straight into his pocket. Lukos lifted an eyebrow. That was what he chose to take first? Then the other brow lifted as Saro spun on the spot...and left. That’s it? That’s it? He frowned, uncoiling his arms and followed Saro to the doorway, watching the other disappear into the night. Lukos blinked in total confusion, frowning, face scrunched as he replayed all of Saro’s actions thus far. He’d been sure that the man had been after Sil to rob him blind, just like himself. And he’d jumped into the harbor, too, saved Sil, accompanied them home...for a bracelet?
Lukos’s palm pressed into the doorframe as he stared after Saro long after the man the man disappeared. “A bracelet?” he muttered to himself, not quite believing that that was all Saro had been here for. Behind him, Silanos and Timaeus were making a terrible noise. The whore giggled. Or someone had, at least, and Lukos shook his head. “This is the most ridiculous night of my life,” he muttered to himself in blatant disbelief. “Is this what I’ve fallen to?” he mused, putting his fingertips to his lips in thought and looking at the drunk and drugged men in front of him, and the whore that would so clearly clean out Timaeus for more than she was worth.
Lukos clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Yes, he was clearly the most sober man here and the only one in full possession of his mind. It was time to get to work. “Come on, you,” he said to Sil, stooping to weave his arm around Silanos’s waist and to brace his shoulder under Sil’s armpit in order to forcibly get Sil under control. To the whore, Lukos glared. “Get his lordship to bed. As you should.” He winked at the girl who’d narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but then she grinned back, understanding.
Reaching over to pat Sil on the chest, Lukos said, “Let’s get you upstairs to bed, hmm? You’ve given your brother his girl. It’s time to get you dry clothes and some sleep.”
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If Lukos didn’t have a plan in place to make his time with Silanos worth while, he’d have been in no mood to deal with the slurring, staggering, wet Silanos. They moved into the house, both Silanos and Saro wet from their little dip in the Aegean, and Lukos damp on one side from having to be the lord’s helpmate through the streets of the city; a task he gladly performed for a chance to enter this house. It was a place he’d been before, in the courtyard, at least. He’d delivered slaves and Silanos, as seemed usual, had ordered the delivery to be done at night; as though buying slaves for private use was illegal, or something. Lukos, however, had done what the lord had stipulated, but he’d not entered the house.
Now, Silanos led him inside and he blinked in the candlelight of the foyer, holding up one hand, letting his eyes adjust as he looked around. The family shrine held sentimental items that did not interest the pirate in the least. The sword was worth something, the golden goblet was worth something, the rest of it might as well have been dust. Lukos curled his lip at the display, eyes half lidded in contempt. What. On. Earth. Never mind that all the things he kept back on his island at home were in a jumble of crates, all stack haphazard and precarious; the only place he allowed such untidy habits. It was all only going to be hauled out anyway.
Silanos sopped his way to the kitchen and Lukos trailed slowly after him, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, watching the young lord sifting about for wine. The whore lingered in the foyer with Saro, unsure. Lukos said nothing as Silanos thumped wine on the tabletop, only to then bring it with him back out of the kitchen. Though Sil had instructed Lukos to make himself at home there, Lukos would do nothing of the kind. He wasn’t here for a social call and if he was? He still wouldn’t have been stashed in the fucking kitchen like a servant. Sauntering after Silanos and rejoining the other two in the foyer, Lukos kept his arms tightly folded over his chest, ignoring Sil bellowing for Timaeus, someone Lukos had also met previously.
He eyed Saro as the man’s expression abruptly changed. Saro drifted over to the table and lifted the worthless bracelet off the display, putting it straight into his pocket. Lukos lifted an eyebrow. That was what he chose to take first? Then the other brow lifted as Saro spun on the spot...and left. That’s it? That’s it? He frowned, uncoiling his arms and followed Saro to the doorway, watching the other disappear into the night. Lukos blinked in total confusion, frowning, face scrunched as he replayed all of Saro’s actions thus far. He’d been sure that the man had been after Sil to rob him blind, just like himself. And he’d jumped into the harbor, too, saved Sil, accompanied them home...for a bracelet?
Lukos’s palm pressed into the doorframe as he stared after Saro long after the man the man disappeared. “A bracelet?” he muttered to himself, not quite believing that that was all Saro had been here for. Behind him, Silanos and Timaeus were making a terrible noise. The whore giggled. Or someone had, at least, and Lukos shook his head. “This is the most ridiculous night of my life,” he muttered to himself in blatant disbelief. “Is this what I’ve fallen to?” he mused, putting his fingertips to his lips in thought and looking at the drunk and drugged men in front of him, and the whore that would so clearly clean out Timaeus for more than she was worth.
Lukos clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Yes, he was clearly the most sober man here and the only one in full possession of his mind. It was time to get to work. “Come on, you,” he said to Sil, stooping to weave his arm around Silanos’s waist and to brace his shoulder under Sil’s armpit in order to forcibly get Sil under control. To the whore, Lukos glared. “Get his lordship to bed. As you should.” He winked at the girl who’d narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but then she grinned back, understanding.
Reaching over to pat Sil on the chest, Lukos said, “Let’s get you upstairs to bed, hmm? You’ve given your brother his girl. It’s time to get you dry clothes and some sleep.”
If Lukos didn’t have a plan in place to make his time with Silanos worth while, he’d have been in no mood to deal with the slurring, staggering, wet Silanos. They moved into the house, both Silanos and Saro wet from their little dip in the Aegean, and Lukos damp on one side from having to be the lord’s helpmate through the streets of the city; a task he gladly performed for a chance to enter this house. It was a place he’d been before, in the courtyard, at least. He’d delivered slaves and Silanos, as seemed usual, had ordered the delivery to be done at night; as though buying slaves for private use was illegal, or something. Lukos, however, had done what the lord had stipulated, but he’d not entered the house.
Now, Silanos led him inside and he blinked in the candlelight of the foyer, holding up one hand, letting his eyes adjust as he looked around. The family shrine held sentimental items that did not interest the pirate in the least. The sword was worth something, the golden goblet was worth something, the rest of it might as well have been dust. Lukos curled his lip at the display, eyes half lidded in contempt. What. On. Earth. Never mind that all the things he kept back on his island at home were in a jumble of crates, all stack haphazard and precarious; the only place he allowed such untidy habits. It was all only going to be hauled out anyway.
Silanos sopped his way to the kitchen and Lukos trailed slowly after him, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle, watching the young lord sifting about for wine. The whore lingered in the foyer with Saro, unsure. Lukos said nothing as Silanos thumped wine on the tabletop, only to then bring it with him back out of the kitchen. Though Sil had instructed Lukos to make himself at home there, Lukos would do nothing of the kind. He wasn’t here for a social call and if he was? He still wouldn’t have been stashed in the fucking kitchen like a servant. Sauntering after Silanos and rejoining the other two in the foyer, Lukos kept his arms tightly folded over his chest, ignoring Sil bellowing for Timaeus, someone Lukos had also met previously.
He eyed Saro as the man’s expression abruptly changed. Saro drifted over to the table and lifted the worthless bracelet off the display, putting it straight into his pocket. Lukos lifted an eyebrow. That was what he chose to take first? Then the other brow lifted as Saro spun on the spot...and left. That’s it? That’s it? He frowned, uncoiling his arms and followed Saro to the doorway, watching the other disappear into the night. Lukos blinked in total confusion, frowning, face scrunched as he replayed all of Saro’s actions thus far. He’d been sure that the man had been after Sil to rob him blind, just like himself. And he’d jumped into the harbor, too, saved Sil, accompanied them home...for a bracelet?
Lukos’s palm pressed into the doorframe as he stared after Saro long after the man the man disappeared. “A bracelet?” he muttered to himself, not quite believing that that was all Saro had been here for. Behind him, Silanos and Timaeus were making a terrible noise. The whore giggled. Or someone had, at least, and Lukos shook his head. “This is the most ridiculous night of my life,” he muttered to himself in blatant disbelief. “Is this what I’ve fallen to?” he mused, putting his fingertips to his lips in thought and looking at the drunk and drugged men in front of him, and the whore that would so clearly clean out Timaeus for more than she was worth.
Lukos clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Yes, he was clearly the most sober man here and the only one in full possession of his mind. It was time to get to work. “Come on, you,” he said to Sil, stooping to weave his arm around Silanos’s waist and to brace his shoulder under Sil’s armpit in order to forcibly get Sil under control. To the whore, Lukos glared. “Get his lordship to bed. As you should.” He winked at the girl who’d narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but then she grinned back, understanding.
Reaching over to pat Sil on the chest, Lukos said, “Let’s get you upstairs to bed, hmm? You’ve given your brother his girl. It’s time to get you dry clothes and some sleep.”
Where the fuck was Tim? Silanos was about ready to go and hammer on his brother’s door when finally...finally, the man himself put in an appearance and Sil grinned, looking absurdly pleased with himself as he tugged the whore forward by her hand, only to have his brother canon into him in the next moment.
“..oof.Watch it, dipshit.” The younger Valaoritis muttered as he staggered, almost toppling over himself and only saved by the thud of the wall at his back. He straightened -ish- with a scowl, and then tried to present his gift once again.
“Don’t say I never get you anything” Silanos said, as he released the girl’s hand and sent her over towards his older sibling, though he narrowed his gaze because Timaeus seemed drunk enough that maybe he was too far past it to perform. What a waste.
Well what did it matter anyway, he’d done his bit and been a good brother. And he’d already turned away, ready to leave Tim to unwrap his gift in the privacy of his own chambers, when the other’s slurred words had him pause. Did he want to share? Here, Sil squinted at his brother. They didn’t share women. Admittedly, he’d done it a couple of times with Mihail, but that was different. He didn’t want to see his brother’s dick in anywhere, in fact it made him feel a little nauseous.
“Fuck no” Sil waved a dismissive hand and continued on his meandering progress back down the hall. “She’s all for you” He looked away again just in time to see one of his gambling companions leave, the front door closing with a decisive thud behind him. “That’s rude” he muttered mostly to himself. “ Didn’t even say bye” Not that he could remember what the man’s name was. Or how he’d even ended up with him but that wasn’t the point now was it? A shiver ripped through him from nowhere, and the young lord glanced down at his soaked garments with a befuddled look upon his face.
He was still frowning at them when he felt himself being grabbed, and he turned to blink at Lukos. “I don’t sleep” he muttered absently, though it seemed not a horrible idea just to lay down somewhere soft. And to be dry. He managed to sort of steer his handy leaning post pal in the general direction of his room, though the stairs were a challenge for some reason, and when Silanos kicked a foot at the door to his chambers, he caught the wall instead and was hopping and cursing as the pair tumbled through the doorway.
Spitting out words that would have made a finer bred man than Lukos grow pale, Sil had plopped rather gracelessly on the edge of the bed and was clumsily removing the leather sandals on his feet so he could better inspect what felt like the shattered remnants of his toes. Or they fucking hurt anyway.
“I don’t do men” he said suddenly, lifting his head to stare at Lukos with a narrowed gaze. “Just to be clear...don’t go getting any ideas” He was looking a little suspiciously at the other man. “So unless you’re gonna tuck me and tell me a story” he mumbled, struggling inelegantly out of soggy and wet fabric that landed with a splat on the marble floor. “You might as well ..ff...fuck off” His teeth were rattling inside his head and Sil found he couldn’t make them stop. It was cold. Without quite knowing how he managed it, the younger of the Valaoritis brothers rolled himself up in the bed linens like one of the fine rugs brought in from Egypt.
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Where the fuck was Tim? Silanos was about ready to go and hammer on his brother’s door when finally...finally, the man himself put in an appearance and Sil grinned, looking absurdly pleased with himself as he tugged the whore forward by her hand, only to have his brother canon into him in the next moment.
“..oof.Watch it, dipshit.” The younger Valaoritis muttered as he staggered, almost toppling over himself and only saved by the thud of the wall at his back. He straightened -ish- with a scowl, and then tried to present his gift once again.
“Don’t say I never get you anything” Silanos said, as he released the girl’s hand and sent her over towards his older sibling, though he narrowed his gaze because Timaeus seemed drunk enough that maybe he was too far past it to perform. What a waste.
Well what did it matter anyway, he’d done his bit and been a good brother. And he’d already turned away, ready to leave Tim to unwrap his gift in the privacy of his own chambers, when the other’s slurred words had him pause. Did he want to share? Here, Sil squinted at his brother. They didn’t share women. Admittedly, he’d done it a couple of times with Mihail, but that was different. He didn’t want to see his brother’s dick in anywhere, in fact it made him feel a little nauseous.
“Fuck no” Sil waved a dismissive hand and continued on his meandering progress back down the hall. “She’s all for you” He looked away again just in time to see one of his gambling companions leave, the front door closing with a decisive thud behind him. “That’s rude” he muttered mostly to himself. “ Didn’t even say bye” Not that he could remember what the man’s name was. Or how he’d even ended up with him but that wasn’t the point now was it? A shiver ripped through him from nowhere, and the young lord glanced down at his soaked garments with a befuddled look upon his face.
He was still frowning at them when he felt himself being grabbed, and he turned to blink at Lukos. “I don’t sleep” he muttered absently, though it seemed not a horrible idea just to lay down somewhere soft. And to be dry. He managed to sort of steer his handy leaning post pal in the general direction of his room, though the stairs were a challenge for some reason, and when Silanos kicked a foot at the door to his chambers, he caught the wall instead and was hopping and cursing as the pair tumbled through the doorway.
Spitting out words that would have made a finer bred man than Lukos grow pale, Sil had plopped rather gracelessly on the edge of the bed and was clumsily removing the leather sandals on his feet so he could better inspect what felt like the shattered remnants of his toes. Or they fucking hurt anyway.
“I don’t do men” he said suddenly, lifting his head to stare at Lukos with a narrowed gaze. “Just to be clear...don’t go getting any ideas” He was looking a little suspiciously at the other man. “So unless you’re gonna tuck me and tell me a story” he mumbled, struggling inelegantly out of soggy and wet fabric that landed with a splat on the marble floor. “You might as well ..ff...fuck off” His teeth were rattling inside his head and Sil found he couldn’t make them stop. It was cold. Without quite knowing how he managed it, the younger of the Valaoritis brothers rolled himself up in the bed linens like one of the fine rugs brought in from Egypt.
Where the fuck was Tim? Silanos was about ready to go and hammer on his brother’s door when finally...finally, the man himself put in an appearance and Sil grinned, looking absurdly pleased with himself as he tugged the whore forward by her hand, only to have his brother canon into him in the next moment.
“..oof.Watch it, dipshit.” The younger Valaoritis muttered as he staggered, almost toppling over himself and only saved by the thud of the wall at his back. He straightened -ish- with a scowl, and then tried to present his gift once again.
“Don’t say I never get you anything” Silanos said, as he released the girl’s hand and sent her over towards his older sibling, though he narrowed his gaze because Timaeus seemed drunk enough that maybe he was too far past it to perform. What a waste.
Well what did it matter anyway, he’d done his bit and been a good brother. And he’d already turned away, ready to leave Tim to unwrap his gift in the privacy of his own chambers, when the other’s slurred words had him pause. Did he want to share? Here, Sil squinted at his brother. They didn’t share women. Admittedly, he’d done it a couple of times with Mihail, but that was different. He didn’t want to see his brother’s dick in anywhere, in fact it made him feel a little nauseous.
“Fuck no” Sil waved a dismissive hand and continued on his meandering progress back down the hall. “She’s all for you” He looked away again just in time to see one of his gambling companions leave, the front door closing with a decisive thud behind him. “That’s rude” he muttered mostly to himself. “ Didn’t even say bye” Not that he could remember what the man’s name was. Or how he’d even ended up with him but that wasn’t the point now was it? A shiver ripped through him from nowhere, and the young lord glanced down at his soaked garments with a befuddled look upon his face.
He was still frowning at them when he felt himself being grabbed, and he turned to blink at Lukos. “I don’t sleep” he muttered absently, though it seemed not a horrible idea just to lay down somewhere soft. And to be dry. He managed to sort of steer his handy leaning post pal in the general direction of his room, though the stairs were a challenge for some reason, and when Silanos kicked a foot at the door to his chambers, he caught the wall instead and was hopping and cursing as the pair tumbled through the doorway.
Spitting out words that would have made a finer bred man than Lukos grow pale, Sil had plopped rather gracelessly on the edge of the bed and was clumsily removing the leather sandals on his feet so he could better inspect what felt like the shattered remnants of his toes. Or they fucking hurt anyway.
“I don’t do men” he said suddenly, lifting his head to stare at Lukos with a narrowed gaze. “Just to be clear...don’t go getting any ideas” He was looking a little suspiciously at the other man. “So unless you’re gonna tuck me and tell me a story” he mumbled, struggling inelegantly out of soggy and wet fabric that landed with a splat on the marble floor. “You might as well ..ff...fuck off” His teeth were rattling inside his head and Sil found he couldn’t make them stop. It was cold. Without quite knowing how he managed it, the younger of the Valaoritis brothers rolled himself up in the bed linens like one of the fine rugs brought in from Egypt.
Lukos made an “mmm,” of agreement as Sil slurred out how rude it was for Saro to have left...but he was relieved. There was no one fighting him for either Silanos’s money or watching for how he treated him. The funny thing was, Lukos was enjoying himself. Despite the issues that this lord had provided for him during the night, what with vomiting and nearly making him twist his ankle on those fucking stairs all the way up the fucking mountain of this fucking city, he thought Silanos was alright. Definitely one to take up with again should he want a night of idiot antics. A night like this could last Lukos months before he’d want another one, but when he inevitably did, Silanos was the one he’d come to see and to steal from. It was simply too easy and the man’s sassy mouth was too entertaining to pass up.
“I don’t sleep” Silanos’s owlish eyes when Lukos hefted him up the stairs again made Lukos smirk.
“You don’t, do you?” he grunted under his breath, now having to bear most of Sil’s weight again. “That’s a shame. I like sleep. Nothing like crashing into your bed after a full day’s work-ah, that’s right. I forgot who I was talking to. You’ve never worked a day in your life. You’re so soft. Almost like a woman, actually. Look at that soft lordling pudge.” Lukos squeezed the soft flesh over Sil’s hip, grinning to himself. Well fed little lordling. Kept like a fatted calf. Good for nothing but to consume and dispose of. The pirate had no plans to cannibalize Silanos but he did intend to relieve the man of anything of value that he found in the house. The servants wouldn’t bother him. Neither the master nor the master’s brother had said a single, solitary word about his presence and it wasn’t for the ‘help’ to question a guest, which he now was. This was working out better and better. Honestly, if he ever felt like quitting the sea, he could probably make a killing off being a con man. At the moment, it was only a hobby. He didn’t feel like making a living off it.
They finally made it to Sil’s room, and Lukos let the man drop straight on his face into the bed, leaving his side at once. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked about the room, mildly disappointed. Well this wasn’t a vault, was it? Turning around, about to demand if Sil was poor or not, honestly growing offended at the prospect of wasting this whole night on an idiot who was a lord in title only, without the money to back it up, he laughed instead at what popped straight out of Sil’s mouth.
“I don’t do men. Just to be clear...don’t go getting any ideas.”
“You’re in luck,” Lukos grinned. “I don’t either. And I certainly wouldn’t make you the first if I did.” He rolled his eyes, forgetting to demand about the money.
“So unless you’re gonna tuck me and tell me a story, you might as well ..ff...fuck off”
Lukos watched with a flat expression as Silanos peeled off his clothes and dangled them out over the stone floor. They dropped into a wet heap with a moist thud that made Lukos’s nose wrinkle. Was this man a child? Really? Dropping things on the floor as though he had servants-...right. He did have servants. Lukos rolled his eyes again, now coming to the conclusion that all of these rich men had to be less than worthless with normal, every day tasks that would keep them functioning on their own. Never mind that he had a servant girl back home to take care of his stuff. It was far easier to judge someone else.
“Sure,” Lukos said sarcastically, turning toward a shelf that had precious few books on it and nabbing one at random. “I’ll read you a story and tuck you in, little one.” Advancing on the bed, he jabbed a finger in the center of Sil’s forehead and shoved him down onto his pillow. “Lay down, son” Lukos commanded and snagged a chair by the wall. He pulled it up beside the bed and plopped down. Crossing one ankle over his knee so that his legs made a square, he flipped through the book, pretending to be looking for a story. Some of the letters were familiar, but he had no idea if this was a novel or an agricultural guide. More than likely, considering whose room it was in, it was a book of dirty stories.
“Let’s see, let’s read this one.” Lukos cleared his throat. “It’s about this um. Monster. So this monster thinks to himself that he wants to steal children and make them into his idea of perfect. Train them from the ground up and beat it into their adorable little heads about what’s right and what’s wrong.” Lukos licked his thumb and turned the page. “So then the monster sails off and he starts swiping little boys he finds playing in coves or on the beach. Sometimes in markets. Doesn’t matter. And he takes them on his big black ship and throws them into cages. It’s a good time. Only this monster finds out he has no patience and that he hates children. So when one little boy cries, what do you think the monster did? Why he threw him overboard!” Lukos was a little too gleeful in this retelling.
“That shut the rest of those little bastards up. They didn’t make a peep the entire rest of the way. So they get to this uh...magical island in the middle of nowhere. Next to an isle of mermaids and guarded by sea dragons. And the monster takes these little fuckers and teaches them all the important stuff, like sailing. Only some of those little bastards didn’t make it. Because remember, the monster’s impatient. They get picked off one by one until there’s just one left. Lucky for that one, he grew up! Got big and strong and clever, just like the monster wanted. But you know what? The boy was too clever for the monster and he bided his time. Then, one night, he got his chance. Wanna know what he did? He waited until the monster trusted him just a little too much and he stabbed that fucking asshole in the chest. Watched him bleed out in his own cabin. And that’s where that little boy lives to this day.” Lukos sat back in his chair. “And he sleeps just fine.”
Lukos patted Sil’s face. “Moral of the story: Be nice, asshole.” Snapping the book shut, he didn’t check to see if Sil had made it through that ‘story’. Laying the book on Sil’s chair, Lukos started snooping about the room but found nothing at all interesting beyond a few trinkets here and there. And then, he remembered that fucking coinpurse that had been on Sil’s hip. Heading back to the wet pile of clothes, he moved them around with one finger, touching them as little as possible until he got the coin purse, still attached to Sil’s belt. Reaching back for the dirk he carried, Lukos cut the strings and stood, inspecting how many coins were inside.
“Pitiful,” he grumbled to himself. If not for Saro, he wouldn’t have had to pull this charade all night. He could have nabbed Sil’s stuff at the whore house and been done with it. Ah well. He left the room and wandered the halls, poking his head into this library, into that empty room, skipping entirely Tim’s room. Sighing, he wandered down the stairs, jiggling door handles, finding some of them locked. Yawning, he stretched lazily, his shirt riding up revealing his belt and his stomach. Lukos let down his arms and scratched his belly, looking blearily around. Out a window, he saw the gray of oncoming dawn.
“Fuck,” he yawned again. “Whatever. I’ll rob him again later,” he said through another yawn and wandered out the front door. It took the better part of half an hour, but he found himself back down at the harbor, trailing up the gangway of the Aceton, then down the stairs in the deck and into his cabin. It was light enough that as he pulled off his shirt, he looked down at the faint, though still visible dark stain in the wood of the floor. The stain was large and he’d let that blood sit there a long, long time before he’d cleaned it. Long enough that it was a permanent color in the boards. Smiling to himself, he balled up his shirt, tossed it in the corner, and flopped onto his bed, the coins in the purse jangling onto his sheets. He was asleep before he could even think to clean them up.
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Lukos made an “mmm,” of agreement as Sil slurred out how rude it was for Saro to have left...but he was relieved. There was no one fighting him for either Silanos’s money or watching for how he treated him. The funny thing was, Lukos was enjoying himself. Despite the issues that this lord had provided for him during the night, what with vomiting and nearly making him twist his ankle on those fucking stairs all the way up the fucking mountain of this fucking city, he thought Silanos was alright. Definitely one to take up with again should he want a night of idiot antics. A night like this could last Lukos months before he’d want another one, but when he inevitably did, Silanos was the one he’d come to see and to steal from. It was simply too easy and the man’s sassy mouth was too entertaining to pass up.
“I don’t sleep” Silanos’s owlish eyes when Lukos hefted him up the stairs again made Lukos smirk.
“You don’t, do you?” he grunted under his breath, now having to bear most of Sil’s weight again. “That’s a shame. I like sleep. Nothing like crashing into your bed after a full day’s work-ah, that’s right. I forgot who I was talking to. You’ve never worked a day in your life. You’re so soft. Almost like a woman, actually. Look at that soft lordling pudge.” Lukos squeezed the soft flesh over Sil’s hip, grinning to himself. Well fed little lordling. Kept like a fatted calf. Good for nothing but to consume and dispose of. The pirate had no plans to cannibalize Silanos but he did intend to relieve the man of anything of value that he found in the house. The servants wouldn’t bother him. Neither the master nor the master’s brother had said a single, solitary word about his presence and it wasn’t for the ‘help’ to question a guest, which he now was. This was working out better and better. Honestly, if he ever felt like quitting the sea, he could probably make a killing off being a con man. At the moment, it was only a hobby. He didn’t feel like making a living off it.
They finally made it to Sil’s room, and Lukos let the man drop straight on his face into the bed, leaving his side at once. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked about the room, mildly disappointed. Well this wasn’t a vault, was it? Turning around, about to demand if Sil was poor or not, honestly growing offended at the prospect of wasting this whole night on an idiot who was a lord in title only, without the money to back it up, he laughed instead at what popped straight out of Sil’s mouth.
“I don’t do men. Just to be clear...don’t go getting any ideas.”
“You’re in luck,” Lukos grinned. “I don’t either. And I certainly wouldn’t make you the first if I did.” He rolled his eyes, forgetting to demand about the money.
“So unless you’re gonna tuck me and tell me a story, you might as well ..ff...fuck off”
Lukos watched with a flat expression as Silanos peeled off his clothes and dangled them out over the stone floor. They dropped into a wet heap with a moist thud that made Lukos’s nose wrinkle. Was this man a child? Really? Dropping things on the floor as though he had servants-...right. He did have servants. Lukos rolled his eyes again, now coming to the conclusion that all of these rich men had to be less than worthless with normal, every day tasks that would keep them functioning on their own. Never mind that he had a servant girl back home to take care of his stuff. It was far easier to judge someone else.
“Sure,” Lukos said sarcastically, turning toward a shelf that had precious few books on it and nabbing one at random. “I’ll read you a story and tuck you in, little one.” Advancing on the bed, he jabbed a finger in the center of Sil’s forehead and shoved him down onto his pillow. “Lay down, son” Lukos commanded and snagged a chair by the wall. He pulled it up beside the bed and plopped down. Crossing one ankle over his knee so that his legs made a square, he flipped through the book, pretending to be looking for a story. Some of the letters were familiar, but he had no idea if this was a novel or an agricultural guide. More than likely, considering whose room it was in, it was a book of dirty stories.
“Let’s see, let’s read this one.” Lukos cleared his throat. “It’s about this um. Monster. So this monster thinks to himself that he wants to steal children and make them into his idea of perfect. Train them from the ground up and beat it into their adorable little heads about what’s right and what’s wrong.” Lukos licked his thumb and turned the page. “So then the monster sails off and he starts swiping little boys he finds playing in coves or on the beach. Sometimes in markets. Doesn’t matter. And he takes them on his big black ship and throws them into cages. It’s a good time. Only this monster finds out he has no patience and that he hates children. So when one little boy cries, what do you think the monster did? Why he threw him overboard!” Lukos was a little too gleeful in this retelling.
“That shut the rest of those little bastards up. They didn’t make a peep the entire rest of the way. So they get to this uh...magical island in the middle of nowhere. Next to an isle of mermaids and guarded by sea dragons. And the monster takes these little fuckers and teaches them all the important stuff, like sailing. Only some of those little bastards didn’t make it. Because remember, the monster’s impatient. They get picked off one by one until there’s just one left. Lucky for that one, he grew up! Got big and strong and clever, just like the monster wanted. But you know what? The boy was too clever for the monster and he bided his time. Then, one night, he got his chance. Wanna know what he did? He waited until the monster trusted him just a little too much and he stabbed that fucking asshole in the chest. Watched him bleed out in his own cabin. And that’s where that little boy lives to this day.” Lukos sat back in his chair. “And he sleeps just fine.”
Lukos patted Sil’s face. “Moral of the story: Be nice, asshole.” Snapping the book shut, he didn’t check to see if Sil had made it through that ‘story’. Laying the book on Sil’s chair, Lukos started snooping about the room but found nothing at all interesting beyond a few trinkets here and there. And then, he remembered that fucking coinpurse that had been on Sil’s hip. Heading back to the wet pile of clothes, he moved them around with one finger, touching them as little as possible until he got the coin purse, still attached to Sil’s belt. Reaching back for the dirk he carried, Lukos cut the strings and stood, inspecting how many coins were inside.
“Pitiful,” he grumbled to himself. If not for Saro, he wouldn’t have had to pull this charade all night. He could have nabbed Sil’s stuff at the whore house and been done with it. Ah well. He left the room and wandered the halls, poking his head into this library, into that empty room, skipping entirely Tim’s room. Sighing, he wandered down the stairs, jiggling door handles, finding some of them locked. Yawning, he stretched lazily, his shirt riding up revealing his belt and his stomach. Lukos let down his arms and scratched his belly, looking blearily around. Out a window, he saw the gray of oncoming dawn.
“Fuck,” he yawned again. “Whatever. I’ll rob him again later,” he said through another yawn and wandered out the front door. It took the better part of half an hour, but he found himself back down at the harbor, trailing up the gangway of the Aceton, then down the stairs in the deck and into his cabin. It was light enough that as he pulled off his shirt, he looked down at the faint, though still visible dark stain in the wood of the floor. The stain was large and he’d let that blood sit there a long, long time before he’d cleaned it. Long enough that it was a permanent color in the boards. Smiling to himself, he balled up his shirt, tossed it in the corner, and flopped onto his bed, the coins in the purse jangling onto his sheets. He was asleep before he could even think to clean them up.
Lukos made an “mmm,” of agreement as Sil slurred out how rude it was for Saro to have left...but he was relieved. There was no one fighting him for either Silanos’s money or watching for how he treated him. The funny thing was, Lukos was enjoying himself. Despite the issues that this lord had provided for him during the night, what with vomiting and nearly making him twist his ankle on those fucking stairs all the way up the fucking mountain of this fucking city, he thought Silanos was alright. Definitely one to take up with again should he want a night of idiot antics. A night like this could last Lukos months before he’d want another one, but when he inevitably did, Silanos was the one he’d come to see and to steal from. It was simply too easy and the man’s sassy mouth was too entertaining to pass up.
“I don’t sleep” Silanos’s owlish eyes when Lukos hefted him up the stairs again made Lukos smirk.
“You don’t, do you?” he grunted under his breath, now having to bear most of Sil’s weight again. “That’s a shame. I like sleep. Nothing like crashing into your bed after a full day’s work-ah, that’s right. I forgot who I was talking to. You’ve never worked a day in your life. You’re so soft. Almost like a woman, actually. Look at that soft lordling pudge.” Lukos squeezed the soft flesh over Sil’s hip, grinning to himself. Well fed little lordling. Kept like a fatted calf. Good for nothing but to consume and dispose of. The pirate had no plans to cannibalize Silanos but he did intend to relieve the man of anything of value that he found in the house. The servants wouldn’t bother him. Neither the master nor the master’s brother had said a single, solitary word about his presence and it wasn’t for the ‘help’ to question a guest, which he now was. This was working out better and better. Honestly, if he ever felt like quitting the sea, he could probably make a killing off being a con man. At the moment, it was only a hobby. He didn’t feel like making a living off it.
They finally made it to Sil’s room, and Lukos let the man drop straight on his face into the bed, leaving his side at once. Arms crossed over his chest, he looked about the room, mildly disappointed. Well this wasn’t a vault, was it? Turning around, about to demand if Sil was poor or not, honestly growing offended at the prospect of wasting this whole night on an idiot who was a lord in title only, without the money to back it up, he laughed instead at what popped straight out of Sil’s mouth.
“I don’t do men. Just to be clear...don’t go getting any ideas.”
“You’re in luck,” Lukos grinned. “I don’t either. And I certainly wouldn’t make you the first if I did.” He rolled his eyes, forgetting to demand about the money.
“So unless you’re gonna tuck me and tell me a story, you might as well ..ff...fuck off”
Lukos watched with a flat expression as Silanos peeled off his clothes and dangled them out over the stone floor. They dropped into a wet heap with a moist thud that made Lukos’s nose wrinkle. Was this man a child? Really? Dropping things on the floor as though he had servants-...right. He did have servants. Lukos rolled his eyes again, now coming to the conclusion that all of these rich men had to be less than worthless with normal, every day tasks that would keep them functioning on their own. Never mind that he had a servant girl back home to take care of his stuff. It was far easier to judge someone else.
“Sure,” Lukos said sarcastically, turning toward a shelf that had precious few books on it and nabbing one at random. “I’ll read you a story and tuck you in, little one.” Advancing on the bed, he jabbed a finger in the center of Sil’s forehead and shoved him down onto his pillow. “Lay down, son” Lukos commanded and snagged a chair by the wall. He pulled it up beside the bed and plopped down. Crossing one ankle over his knee so that his legs made a square, he flipped through the book, pretending to be looking for a story. Some of the letters were familiar, but he had no idea if this was a novel or an agricultural guide. More than likely, considering whose room it was in, it was a book of dirty stories.
“Let’s see, let’s read this one.” Lukos cleared his throat. “It’s about this um. Monster. So this monster thinks to himself that he wants to steal children and make them into his idea of perfect. Train them from the ground up and beat it into their adorable little heads about what’s right and what’s wrong.” Lukos licked his thumb and turned the page. “So then the monster sails off and he starts swiping little boys he finds playing in coves or on the beach. Sometimes in markets. Doesn’t matter. And he takes them on his big black ship and throws them into cages. It’s a good time. Only this monster finds out he has no patience and that he hates children. So when one little boy cries, what do you think the monster did? Why he threw him overboard!” Lukos was a little too gleeful in this retelling.
“That shut the rest of those little bastards up. They didn’t make a peep the entire rest of the way. So they get to this uh...magical island in the middle of nowhere. Next to an isle of mermaids and guarded by sea dragons. And the monster takes these little fuckers and teaches them all the important stuff, like sailing. Only some of those little bastards didn’t make it. Because remember, the monster’s impatient. They get picked off one by one until there’s just one left. Lucky for that one, he grew up! Got big and strong and clever, just like the monster wanted. But you know what? The boy was too clever for the monster and he bided his time. Then, one night, he got his chance. Wanna know what he did? He waited until the monster trusted him just a little too much and he stabbed that fucking asshole in the chest. Watched him bleed out in his own cabin. And that’s where that little boy lives to this day.” Lukos sat back in his chair. “And he sleeps just fine.”
Lukos patted Sil’s face. “Moral of the story: Be nice, asshole.” Snapping the book shut, he didn’t check to see if Sil had made it through that ‘story’. Laying the book on Sil’s chair, Lukos started snooping about the room but found nothing at all interesting beyond a few trinkets here and there. And then, he remembered that fucking coinpurse that had been on Sil’s hip. Heading back to the wet pile of clothes, he moved them around with one finger, touching them as little as possible until he got the coin purse, still attached to Sil’s belt. Reaching back for the dirk he carried, Lukos cut the strings and stood, inspecting how many coins were inside.
“Pitiful,” he grumbled to himself. If not for Saro, he wouldn’t have had to pull this charade all night. He could have nabbed Sil’s stuff at the whore house and been done with it. Ah well. He left the room and wandered the halls, poking his head into this library, into that empty room, skipping entirely Tim’s room. Sighing, he wandered down the stairs, jiggling door handles, finding some of them locked. Yawning, he stretched lazily, his shirt riding up revealing his belt and his stomach. Lukos let down his arms and scratched his belly, looking blearily around. Out a window, he saw the gray of oncoming dawn.
“Fuck,” he yawned again. “Whatever. I’ll rob him again later,” he said through another yawn and wandered out the front door. It took the better part of half an hour, but he found himself back down at the harbor, trailing up the gangway of the Aceton, then down the stairs in the deck and into his cabin. It was light enough that as he pulled off his shirt, he looked down at the faint, though still visible dark stain in the wood of the floor. The stain was large and he’d let that blood sit there a long, long time before he’d cleaned it. Long enough that it was a permanent color in the boards. Smiling to himself, he balled up his shirt, tossed it in the corner, and flopped onto his bed, the coins in the purse jangling onto his sheets. He was asleep before he could even think to clean them up.