The Bellows and The Boy

[ELEyogi]

"Why do you make it sound like there is a good chance we may be about to die?" he whispered.

Ozzy started to answer, to clarify his thought but was shocked to silence at the small hand that gripped his meaty paw. More words followed but for the life of him, he could comprehend none of it. He watched those pouty lips move in almost slow motion, forming words and sounds that might be important but all he could think about was how warm Fraser’s hand was in his. The fingers long and delicate but the muscles around them hinted at a strength that Ozzy found promising.

Fraser released him, just as the porthole unlatched and Ozzy took a step to the side, blocking the doorman’s vision. “You’re getting lax in your old age, Davrin,” he said with a chuckle before the door swung open to reveal a hulking figure.

A head taller and twice as wide as Ozzy, Davrin Copley had been the Inn’s doorman for as long as Ozzy could remember. An accident in his youth left him mute but did nothing to stifle growth, nor his confidence. He was balding and gray when Ozzy was initiated, and none were sure of his age. There was speculation that he had seen the frontlines of the wars with Entente but that was nearly 60 years ago, and Ozzy couldn’t imagine a man maintaining a stature as large as Davrin’s for so long. And when he gripped his forearm in greeting, Ozzy was certain there was bruising beneath his fine linen shirt.

Davrin shifted his dark eyes over Ozzy’s shoulder and furrowed his brow, making Ozzy chuckle a little as he waved the boy in. “The new cutter,” was all Ozzy said by way of introduction and ushered Fraser past the man. “Have that delivered to my room and alert the Innkeeper of my arrival.”

With a tentative hand on his back, Ozzy led Fraser into the Inn’s parlor. He offered a nod at the two fellows seated in one of the back booths before directing Fraser to a table close to the bar. The barmaid came over as soon as they were seated, shifted her eyes from Ozzy to Fraser and back again before she asked, “What can I do you for?”

“Watered wine and whatever’s cookie’s got simmering,” was all he said and the young women went off to take care of their order, not before offering one last look over her shoulder.

“From here on out, you stick to me Doc,” Ozzy said in hushed tones. “And keep your eyes and ears open.”

One floor below, in a locked room, Elric Riley paced before his desk. Kemp Jacoby did well keeping his mouth shut, eyes on the floor. They didn’t need to hear from the servant boy that Sir Osbourne Clifton had arrived with a strange young man in tow. Elric witnessed their approach from the porthole window behind his desk that looked out over the courtyard. It was pure happenstance that Kemp had been in his office, awaiting his next orders when the market cart stopped just outside the courtyard. And at first he thought nothing of it, then he saw the hilt of that sword. The gold tipped scabbard. That cursed ring.

“Leave me,” he nearly growled through clenched jaws. “And you best not show your face in Brynsland again. No doubt you’re boy’s told who sent him. You’ve put yourself at the top of the new Bellow’s to-do list…”

“I’ve put myself…” Kemp began before the Innkeeper threw his glass of whiskey against the wall.

“Yes, you boy,” he bellow and surged towards him to grip his shirtfront in his fists. “You were to insure the message was not delivered. You were to insure that if it were, the boy would not return…”

“My half wit half-brother…”

“You’re what?!? You sent your brother...someone with intimate knowledge of your comings and goings...your habits...what you look like! You deserve whatever Clifton sends your way…” A knock at the door, brought Elric back to composure and he released Kemp with a shove that sent him tumbling over the back of the chair. He did help him up though, with a firm hand on his collar and dragged him towards the door, only to toss him out as soon as it opened.

“Uhh...I’m to announce the arrival of Sir Clifton,” the boy said, visibly trembling under Elric’s intense glare as Kemp scrambled to his feet and rushed up the stairs. “Shall I summon him to your quarters?”

“No boy, when he finishes his meal escort him and his companion to the top,” he said just before he slammed the door.

There was nothing left for him to do now but wait for the chips to fall. He had failed miserably so, all he could hope was that the brute was too stupid to realize the plot.

Unfortunately for Elric, Osbourne Clifton was far from a stupid brute. Even as he ate, his eyes scanned the room, tracking anyone that moved in his vicinity. He was certain Fraser would notice his sweeping gaze, but he hoped that he calm demeanor might set the nervous young man at ease.

Then he saw him, a well dressed man moving swiftly to the door. He seemed to make it a point not to make eye contact with anyone in his path, especially as he weaved his way along the perimeter of the parlor. The barkeep shouted a farewell that went unacknowledged and a small smile came to Osbourne’s face.

“I believe that blur may have been your beloved brother,” Ozzy said with a nod towards the door. “If a boy comes to the table we’ll know for sure how far the plot against us goes.”

No sooner than he finished his sentence did a boy in his early teens come to their table and offer a boy. “The Innkeeper will see you in the suite when you’re finish your meal sir.”

“So he shall.”

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser had prudently kept his distance from the massive doorman, hoping to avoid both the gaze and the bone-cracking handshake.

The new cutter.

Was that it? Had it been decided for him? Or did Osbourne just need to stick with a story for now? He was musing on how he felt about that particular slang term for someone of the medical profession when he was distracted by the hand touching his back.

Since Amadeo had popped up in his dream, he'd been thinking about him periodically, weighing the pros and cons of intimacy. But right now, he decided he would stop weighing things and just accept a little pleasure and connection for what it was. Besides, if there were cons to this, Osbourne was in charge of them. This was Osbourne's territory, and Fraser was by no means in any position of power here. Normally feeling powerless would be purely unpleasant, but at the moment, he was able to accept it, even lean into it. Did this mean he actually had someone he trusted?

Not that he felt especially relaxed. His brief experience here at the Inn, before the fateful journey, had been confusing and stressful, and that was before he'd even had any idea someone had it in for him. Death was near - he could hardly smile and enjoy a meal with a friend.

He didn't need Osbourn to tell him to keep his eyes and ears alert. He did that regardless, surveying the room surreptitiously, taking note of every sight and sound. It was an old habit. He'd always studied humanity as if he were on the outside of it, trying to learn about how they operated.

The flash of movement at the edge of his vision did not escape his notice. He'd lived with Kemp Jacoby long enough to recognize him at a glance, even from the back or obliquely while in swift motion. He gave Osbourne a tiny nod to confirm.

Fray watched the messenger boy out of the corner of his eye, and didn't look up as the boy approached, delivering his message to Osbourne. He kept eating, although he barely registered either the taste or texture of the food. He waited until the boy was out of earshot before leaning ever so slightly closer to Osbourne and speaking up in a low voice:

"Is the Innkeeper the one with the mustache? The one who expected both of us dead?"

 

[ELEyogi]

“Mustache,” Ozzy mused around a mouthful of stew that was tasteless compared to what he’d gorged himself on the night before. “When we’re alone you’ll tell me more of this mustache?”

Elric Riley was clean shaven, or he was the last time Ozzy saw him. It had been months, maybe half a year, since he’d been in the man’s presence. It was possible he’d changed his appearance but Ozzy had his doubts. The Innkeeper was a particular man, always pristinely dress and his quarters were too tidy for a bachelor who lived alone. He imagined a man of his comportment would find facial hair unseemly, but Ozzy allowed the possibility that he might be wrong.

So there are three…

They finished their meal in silence with Ozzy mulling over what he might say to Elric. Did he show all his cards or force the man to dance? And how long had he had it out for him? Was it even a personal vendetta or could he have been a victim of circumstance? Was it possible that Kemp acted alone to have his brother killed? If that were the case, he wouldn’t have run out looking like he’d been recently tossed around. And how would he know the very specific message to relay to Fraser? Did he even know what those words meant? It was clear that Fraser had no idea, but what of his brother?

Ultimately, the answers to the questions swirling around his mind were of little consequence. Osbourne Clifton was not above vengeance and soon, there would be blood in his wake. Kemp Jacoby would be first of course and Ozzy intended to tick that box personally, but not before the boy answered a few questions.

When the barmaid came to retrieve their dishes, Ozzy placed two gold coins on the table. She offered a nervous smile as he waved her closer and whispered something that made her giggle before he slipped another coin between her cleavage.

“She’s sweet on Goldie,” Ozzy explained, not wanting Fraser to think too much about the salacious exchange. “Sweet on everyone really, but she and Elric had a run-in not long after she started...let’s just say she’s not too fond of the ole Innkeeper.”

A few moments later, the young woman returned with a pair of stewards who weren’t as sharply dressed as the first messenger boy they encountered. It was clear by their scuffed boots and threadbare shirts that they were not accustomed to indoor work. Four more coins came out, but this time Ozzy made his request for all to hear. “See to it that my room gets packed up nicely, then await my return. There may be more if you do a good job.

“You know we’re good for it Sir Ozzy,” the taller boy promised while the other agreed with emphatic head nods. Neither boy acknowledged Fraser’s presence before they ran off to do Ozzy’s bidding.

Turning his attention to Fraser, Ozzy took a moment to take the young man. Though eyes darted around the room and his shoulders slumped, he seemed to be in better spirits. He was almost certain he’d told a joke just before they came inside and when his devious brother came tearing through the parlor, Fraser didn’t ball up under the table like Ozzy assumed he would. There was barely a reaction at all.

You said you would protect him...maybe he believes you…

“When we see the Innkeeper, let me do the talking...I’m not saying don’t speak...just...I don’t think..I’m not worried about you offending him,” Ozzy said finally, and let out a heavy breath as his eyes scanned the room again. There were more people now. A man and woman took a table near one of the fireplaces. A single man took up a stool at the bar. All were familiar faces but Ozzy did his best not to draw any undue attention. “I’d quite like it if you did actually,” he admitted with a smirk before shaking his head and smiling outright. “Your second lesson begins now Fraser Pryce. If you intend to remain with me, you’ll need to think on your feet. Let’s see how well you follow my lead.”

With that, Ozzy pressed back from the table and stood, expecting Fraser to follow. He’d told him “stick to me” and Fraser did just that, following Ozzy up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway before they came to a stone alcove that seemed to be older than the rest of the building. It was here they found Elric Riley, pacing before the entrance, with a scroll tucked under one arm and a heavy book against his chest. Ozzy didn’t need to see the cover to know that it was the Tome of the Unseen, the only written record of the Order’s history. He’d seen it once before during his initiation but just long enough to sign his name, then it was gone.

“I hear there’s a new cutter among us,” Elric said, with a slight bow to Fraser. “It’s probably for the best. Doc Tyndall is getting a bit long in the tooth, best we train the next generation before it’s needed,” he added with a small smile before turning to lead them up the stairs contained inside the alcove.

There was a landing at the top of the that supported a high back settee upholstered in cattle hide. The landing itself didn’t seem deep enough to accommodate the heavy door but Ozzy found out why when Elric slip a key into a hole in the wall beside. “Two turns opens your private quarters, three drops the door below,” he explained as turned the key, eliciting bangs and clanks from gears hidden behind the walls. “Your predecessor engaged both looks, but I assume you’ll find your own way.”

Ozzy found the Innkeeper’s choice of words, peculiar but kept quiet as the man led him inside what was to be his new quarters. The entryway was full of natural light from the stain glass windows that ran along the wall just below the rafters. There was a large shuttered doorway that Ozzy assumed led to a balcony opposite a fireplace that was already lit and roaring. The furniture was bulky and old but Ozzy could tell without sitting that it was all of the best quality. There were tapestries on the walls along with the heads of animals but Ozzy’s eyes were drawn to the Kingdom Map painted as a mural behind a set of couches.

“I will escort the apprentice…”

“He’s not decided to take the position yet,” Ozzy interrupted as he moved through the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “And until he does, consider him my personal assistant…”

“Staff must be properly vetted…”

“And approved by the Initiator I am well aware of the protocols,” Ozzy said with a smile that could not be confused as friendly. “I’m also aware of the consequences if said protocols are breached so you needn’t worry on that front,” he added as he took a few purposeful steps in Elric’s direction, forcing the man back a pace as Ozzy reached to take the Tome and scroll. “I assume these are for me,” he asked as he wretched them away.

“Uhhh...yes...certainly,” Elric stammered, his eyes shifting from Ozzy to Fraser, then back again. “You know of the Tome but the scroll has been a mystery to me since...it was found in your predecessor’s private belongings.”

“Perhaps it was not meant for you,” Ozzy said with a raised eyebrow before handing the scroll to Fraser. “At any rate, I wish to be allowed some time to recuperate from my perilous journey and get acquainted with my new quarters,” he said as he moved towards the door, giving Elric an expectant look. “The Taylor boys are packing my old room, see to it that they know where to bring my belongings. Oh and send the carpenter as well. I have little need for such spacious quarters so accommodations will be made available to my assistant if he chooses to remain in the position,” he said and shift his eyes to Fraser, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “If there’s nothing else, my key please?”

“Ah yes...I’d heard there was trouble. You both must be exhausted,” Elric said, trying his best to keep his tone neutral, but Ozzy had been around enough liars to notice the tells. The shaky hands, uncharacteristic stammers and stumbles. And it was clear that he did not want to relinquish the key. Ozzy had to snatch it away as he ushered him out onto the landing. “Word has been sent to The Crown. You will have audience tomorrow evening.”

“I wish to remain undisturbed until then,” Ozzy said with a raised eyebrow as he slipped the key around his neck and tucked into his collar. “Is this the mechanism to close the door?”

“Why, yes,” Elric answered before Ozzy put a hand on his chest and pushed him over the threshold.

He wished he could have seen the man’s face as he was dismissed but he had more important things to deal with. Rest being chief among them. As soon as the door settled, Ozzy began shedding all the expensive fabric that covered his upper body. He even kicked off his boots before inviting Fraser to do the same.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said as he pulled off his weapon’s belt and hung it on the rack by the door. “I hope you’re not cross with me for assuming you would want to share my quarters...or the whole personal assistant bit...my offer still stands if you wish to live here. I will not hold you against your will.”

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser wanted to soak in every last detail of the aged but luxurious suite. He took in as much as he could in a very short time, but his attention was mostly on the interaction between Osbourne and the Innkeeper. He kept up a keen observance of everything while appearing to be barely paying attention, his posture suggesting he was evaluating the furnishings while his eyes caught every small movement and glance from the well-dressed man who was so reluctant to give over the book, scroll, and key to Osbourne.

Once they were alone, he tried to focus on following Osbourne's lead and thinking about what he said, but his mind was elsewhere as he half unlaced his boots and then gave up, too consumed by everything that was building up in his mind.

"I have so many questions!" he burst out, standing in the middle of the entranceway with his bootlaces in wild tangles. He swept a hand through his overgrown hair, leaving it sticking up chaotically. Two bright spots of colour had arisen on his usually pale cheeks.

"And... so many things I feel like I should say," he added, "but first questions!"

He held up finger at a time, as if counting out his questions and observations in an ordered list, even though they all came out in a disorganized jumble: "Does this mean you're really the big boss here now? That man has no respect for you - why is he running so many operations here? What's the book - can I read it? Can you open the scroll? What's in it? I need to know! But really, that man despises you, and I don't know how you'll sleep easily here tonight - he would have been in league with Kemp, no? This could be very bad. Except that you're in charge, and you can make changes, right? How many people do you really trust here? Could I actually be a doctor, and do I need to tell my reasons for getting fired from my apprenticeship? I think, actually, I ought to tell you the truth of it, but - oh, that can wait. Are you actually going to meet the king?"

Fraser stopped talking, his hands still raised, fingers half tented.

"You're very exhausted," he realized, letting his hands fall to his sides, "and I'm doing that thing of being very irritating. Is this an appropriate time to apologize?"

 

[ELEyogi]

So many words. So very many words, and Ozzy wasn’t entirely sure if he caught all of them. Except those last one, and those were the one he would address first.

“You need not apologize and you’ve not done anything to irritate me since the road,” he said, shaking his head as he took tentative steps into Fraser guard and brought a hand to his shoulder, but stopped short of touching him. “Remember that thing I said about breathing,” he added with a chuckle before nodding at the overstuffed chairs before the fireplace. “Sit down, get out of those boots, and I’ll try and answer as many of your questions as possible.”

“I am the boss...The Initiator but most will refer to me as Bellows. That which blows the wind,” Ozzy explained as he settled into the most comfortable chair he’d ever sat in. “And no that man does not like me and he may not respect but he fears me and that’s enough for now. I suspect he’s responsible for my predecessor’s death...he was an old man but last I was in Brynsland he drank in the parlor same as the rest of us. I also suspect that he’s realized his mistake in underestimating me and farming out such an important part of his plot to your idiot half-brother,” he said finally and took a long deep breath, his eyes trained on the ceiling as he replayed Fraser’s frantic rant.

“Ahh the book,” he said with a grin and shift his eyes to Fraser then the book where he placed it on the coffee table. “It’s nothing special, simply a list of names along with their various assignments. Only the Innkeeper, Elric Riley,” he said with an outstretched finger, pointed towards the door. “And the Initiator, Osbourne Clifton,” he said with a smirk and placed a hand on his chest. “Are privy to the contents of that book but that will change come tomorrow night. He’ll not have access and I don’t think there’s a book in Boudineer that I can keep from you Doc so have at it. There’s plenty more where that came from I’m sure. Remind me to take you to the archives,” he said, stifling a yawn. “And the apprenticeship is yours if you really want it, though I must admit that I hope to convince you otherwise. Quick, Fletch, Goldie, a handful in the motley...and you Doc, that’s all the company I have in this place and I intend to keep you all close. But if you’d rather spend your days caring for the ill and wounded with a cantankerous old man than helping me, I will not keep you from it,” he said with a sad smile.

Sure, he’d laid it on pretty thick but Ozzy had a feeling Fraser prefered the latter but was too afraid to be a burden. He could have taken the option away of course but Ozzy was of the belief that Fraser had been robbed of choices for too long in his life and he deserved the chance to make his own decision. All he could hope was that he chose him.

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser held his breath as he expected Osbourne's large hand to land on his shoulder, and then it didn't. He felt a burst of unexpected warmth in his chest and belly. He knew that a friendly touch was natural and good for this man, even something he craved, yet he respected Fraser enough to stop himself. This made Fraser feel deeply touched - just not on a physical level. And yet, he was sort of disappointed in the end. Expecting the touch and then not getting it had also been a tiny bit of a letdown.

How could he feel both relieved and disappointed at the same phenomenon? These strange paradoxes kept happening around Osbourne Clifton.

He finally shed his boots and took off his outer layers of clothing along with them, so he could sit comfortably in the plush chair next to Osbourne. It was so uncommonly comfortable, he drew his knees up and curled into a ball, tucking his whole body into its inviting cocoon-like warmth.

He listened intently, trying not to be frustrated at all of his questions that had been completely ignored. His toes wiggled. Leaving a question unanswered was like leaving a sentence unfinished, a meal half eaten. He didn't like it. But at least the promise of "archives" got him excited and pleasantly distracted.

Fraser stared at Osbourne's mouth, at the little frown that sat there. He didn't want Osbourne to frown.

"I've been thinking about a lot of things," he said after a period of silence, still staring at Osbourne's lips. "Including... who I am, what I want and need, how I relate to other people... or fail to. Back on the road, before we reached your friends' abode, and I had that... moment... of panic...? I don't think it happened because you upset me. It was because I realized that I had to rethink my life. When facing death, all I could think was that I hadn't written a book, and that was one thing I've always wanted to accomplish. But when faced with you being angry at me, it struck me very hard that no one's ever really been interested in what I have to say, and this purpose I'd set out for myself might just be a useless waste of time. Who would read any book I'd write?

"I don't mean to get bogged down in self-pity or anything like that. It's only that I know now I need to be more realistic, and play to my strengths. Connecting with other people? Not a strength. I can't relate to them or they to me. I'm simply not good with people. And as much as I'd still like to be a doctor, I don't think it's a very good profession for someone who's not good with people."

Fraser swallowed after his long speech and forced his eyes upwards, tracing the scar on Osbourne's cheek, all the way up to his eye. He gripped the arm of the chair tightly as he held the other man's gaze, perhaps for the first time. It made him feel immediately exposed and horribly vulnerable, but he knew instinctively it needed to happen.

"But you... don't mind me," he continued in a softer voice that trembled slightly. "You want me around. And I think... I'd be the world's biggest fool to turn my back on that. If you truly want to keep me close... I believe I'd like that."

 

[ELEyogi]

“If you truly want to keep me close... I believe I'd like that."

It wasn’t exactly as enthusiastic as he would have liked but Ozzy imagined it was terribly difficult for Fraser to admit all these things to him after his “moment of panic”. And with full on eye contact. He was trying to be better and Ozzy found that incredibly admirable for a young man who’d had his world turned upside down only two nights ago.

“Well it’s settled then, now I can sleep easily,” Ozzy said with another yawn before he eased himself out of the chair. He kept his eyes on the boy, all tucked into the chair, and fought the urge to scoop him up into his arms.

Maybe someday…

“You’re first order of business as the official assistant to the Initiator is to find a room for yourself in this suite. When the carpenter comes, give him specifics of what you’ll need. Shelves for your books...work table for your herbs...writing desk...anything you think you’ll need to be comfortable. Wake me if he gives you any trouble,” he said as a bell chimed overhead. It took him a moment to realize that it signaled the presence of someone below. “That’ll be the Taylor boys with my things...good boys, a bit rambunctious but dutiful. Their ma runs the kitchen, be nice to her or you’ll never eat a thing in this place,” he said as he moved towards the crank to open the doors again. “Have them put everything in the den..don’t want those hooligans banging around in my bedchamber while I’m trying to sleep. And Fraser do me a favor, confine your wandering to these rooms. If something were to happen to you...I don’t know what I’d do.”

With that Ozzy left the young man to his own devices to find the bedchamber. He stripped down to his pants and climbed into the freshly made bed, he wondered if he’d get another surprise like the night before.

Don’t press your luck…

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser nodded woodenly to the instructions. He was speechless as he watched Osbourne casually make his way to bed. He felt as if he'd just cracked his ribcage open to expose the pulsing, bloody meat of his heart, and the man hadn't even noticed. Did Osbourne really not realize the weight of what he'd said, or how much of a challenge it was for him to have said what he said, and even more so to look him in the eye while he did it?

Of course he couldn't know. No one could know. For normal humans, eye contact was a normal thing they did all the time and probably didn't even think about it. For him it was terrifying, and he had no explanation. No one else had ever lived inside his head, so they couldn't possibly know.

He sat down again on one of the comfortable chairs and doubled over, breathing deeply, not quite in panic attack mode but certainly feeling shaken.

But there wasn't time to coddle himself. The boys with Osbourne's effects from his old room were coming in, and he had work to do.

Although he'd grown up a peasant, Fraser had spent the past twelve years in the household of his noble father, living with a family accustomed to directing servants. Accordingly, it didn't seem strange or unnatural for him to take charge now, giving the Taylor boys a professional welcome and showing them in, trying not to betray the fact that he was only just learning the layout of the suite himself as he led them through it.

When he'd identified the room that must have been the den, Fray showed them in and directed them where to place everything, correcting them assertively but not angrily when they got a little careless or silly. As the young men shuffled things around, Fraser evaluated the room, imagining all of the possibilities here if he were to claim this space for his own, making it the perfect little workspace for himself. A good, sturdy table, some specialized glassware, and plenty of custom built shelving - yes, he could definitely picture it.

After the Taylor boys were finished their work and had departed, he found writing implements and started making some sketches and a list for the carpenter.

When the man arrived as directed, Fraser felt slightly intimidated. The carpenter, broadly built and with a heavy brow, glared at him with almost baleful skepticism.

"Where is the Initiator?" he demanded. "I was told to make myself available for the Initiator."

Fraser drew himself up and stared directly at the centre of the man's forehead. "Mr. Clifton has had a long and taxing journey and has retired to bed," he said evenly. "I'm his assistant, so you'll have to deal with me. And do keep quiet so as not to disturb him. Follow me, please."

He turned to lead the way, keeping a noble posture he'd perfected years ago to use when he needed it, and was relieved when he heard the man following him rather than protesting this unusual situation.

Fray showed the man his drawings and talked him through his plans. The carpenter informed him of what was possible and what was not, and together they agreed on most of the key details. The carpenter promised he would return later in the week, at the Initiator's convenience, with some furniture and formal plans for what would have to be custom built. Fraser was sure the man didn't trust him and still wanted to confer with Osbourne directly before committing too deeply to this project, but Fray didn't much care at the moment. He needed to get some sleep himself. Even his excitement about Osbourne's mysterious book and his discovery of the little library couldn't keep him alert anymore.

Fraser only noticed well after he'd shown the carpenter out and figured out how to secure the door that he hadn't even considered that what room he was to choose for himself also may have been intended as his sleeping quarters. It hadn't crossed his mind to think of a bed or anything other than work.

Where was he to sleep tonight? There was an ancient-looking divan in the library, which he thought could be comfortable enough to sleep on, but after lying there awhile he found he couldn't settle, not even surrounded by books. Osbourne wasn't here - that was the problem. He was also thinking of Osbourne's warning not to leave the suite, lest something "happen" to him.

Like another attempted assassination?

Breathing hard, and now dressed in only his underclothes and stockings, Fraser padded down the hall and let himself quietly into the bedchamber. It was very dark. He softly shut the door behind him and felt his way through the room until he'd found the bed. Breathing as silently as he could through his mouth, he crawled up onto the foot of the bed and curled up tightly, making himself very small near Osbourne's feet like a puppy, stealing a little corner of the blanket for himself.

 

[ELEyogi]

His eyes were open as soon as the door opened but Ozzy remain perfectly still. Maintaining the deep breathing of sleep, he tracked the light footsteps as they drew nearer and held his breath when Fraser eased himself onto the bed.

Easy...there are no other beds…

But Ozzy was certain there were other places to sleep. Places more comfortable than the foot of the bed, as there were better places than the ground outside Knives and Cakes. A small smile came to his lips as he rolled to his back. “You needn’t treat yourself like a pet,” he said, his voice a gruff whisper. “There’s more than enough room for you to stretch out.”

The bed was slightly larger than a double and there was enough bedding to keep incidental contact to a minimum. To further his point, Ozzy slid over to the edge and pat the space beside him. “Do yourself a favor and relax Doc? We are safe for now.”

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser squirmed up the bed and stretched out, covering himself with the blanket. He heard himself released a slightly ragged, shaky breath, and his cheeks warmed in the dark.

"How strange it is...," he mused in a low whisper, "that the first night, I could not sleep a wink with you right next to me... and now, only a couple of nights later, but seeming like half a lifetime... I cannot seem to rest without you."

He scrunched the covers in his fists and tried to relax. He was struggling to settle, as he had a few minutes ago in the library, and for the same reason. He wasn't as close to Osbourne as he needed to be.

He didn't know when or how it had happened, but he craved closeness. Was it only because he was afraid and uncertain? Was it because he needed to feel he had a home and a family?

There was so much more. Maybe he didn't need to assign reason and explanation and analysis to all things, especially not things like this.

Forcing his analytical brain to take a rest, he rolled over in Osbourne's direction and slid a hand along the sheet until he'd found one of Osbourne's much bigger, rougher hands. He rested his own on top of it gently and considered the sensation of flesh against flesh.

"You are warm... and strong... and good," he whispered after much thought. "I feel safe with you."

 

[ELEyogi]

Strange indeed…

There was little to no hesitation in Fraser’s movements now and Ozzy found his heart pounding as the smaller man took a more comfortable position. Part of him thought he was dreaming, but Ozzy could feel his body heat. The slightly floral musk that he came to identify as Fraser’s scent filled his nostrils, and Ozzy breathed it in, allowing the pleasant aroma to lull him back to sleep.

Then there was a hand on his and Ozzy gripped the fingers gently a moment before he realized what he’d done. He opened his eyes again to find Fraser’s in the gloom. And those lips. Oh how he wanted to kiss them, to run his tongue along rim of them. To taste him.

His belly full and more at ease than he had been for weeks, the parts of his body that had been inactive the night before were beginning to respond to this new closeness. His toes tingled as blood rushed to his loins, all he could do was hope that the bed linens and blankets were heavy enough to disguise his excitement. And that Fraser’s eyes didn’t wander to far south.

"You are warm... and strong... and good," he whispered after much thought. "I feel safe with you."

“You have no idea,” Ozzy muttered, not meaning to outloud but was too tired to clean it up. He didn’t even think to apologize, instead turned over to face Fraser.

Ozzy slipped his hand from his, only to run his calloused fingertips up Fraser’s wrist. “Thank you Fraser...for trusting me...So, I must admit my body is beginning to betray my goodness,” he said with a quiet chuckle as his fingers continued their tentative journey up Fraser’s slender arm. “But worry not Doc, you said it yourself. I’m strong...strong enough to remain a gentleman,” he said with a bit of a smirk as his fingers made their way back down Fraser’s wrist. Slowly, Ozzy laced their fingers together and settled down onto the pillows. “I’ll not be offended if you need to let go. To have been allowed this much if more than I deserve.”

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser felt Osbourne's fingers gently push between his and settle there. He'd rarely had someone hold his hand, and never like this - the intimacy of it was intense, nearly stealing away his breath. It was more intimate than the experience of Amadeo's expert hand wrapped around his prick. Was it because what he'd done with the boy whore had been mainly an experiment, whereas here, with Osbourne, there was a natural draw? He knew the man holding his hand right now found him beautiful, and really wanted to touch him, whereas Amadeo's job was making every man he was with feel attractive and desired. Fraser hadn't been special to Amadeo, or anyone but his mother, at least not in any positive sense. He didn't know how to react to being wanted.

"I don't think you're bad for... feeling things," he whispered. "Or... being aroused, if that's what you mean about your body betraying you. Let's not talk of gentlemen - in my experience, men of status are mainly concerned with being 'good' while people are watching. Behind closed doors they may lie and cheat, take advantage of people in weaker positions, pay for illicit sex, or just take it without asking. You are a good man, Osbourne Clifton."

He squeezed Osbourne's hand. His heart sped. Heat was building up between their mingled hands. This was a nerve-wracking experience, but he decided it was something he needed. As he'd articulated earlier, wouldn't he be a fool to shut out someone who actually wanted him?

Fraser thought about last night's drunken ramblings, and wondered how much truth he could take from them. In vino veritas, that was what men said of old, though he hadn't studied this phenomenon enough to be confident in its veracity.

"Would you tell me how you feel, truly, about me?" he asked. "I don't mean to be an egotist - I just need to make sure I understand. And I need to hear it while you're not silly-headed with ale."

 

[ELEyogi]

Ozzy couldn’t hold his smirk at Fraser’s cynical description of gentlemen and did nothing to correct him. He imagined the Jacoby men would describe themselves as such and Fraser’s interpretation fit the bill. He wanted to ask of this man, or men he encountered who proved his point all these years. Ozzy imagined the town Fraser hailed from was full of powerful men who twisted the definition in the young man’s eyes.

I would slay them all...you need only ask…

"Would you tell me how you feel, truly, about me?" he asked. "I don't mean to be an egotist - I just need to make sure I understand. And I need to hear it while you're not silly-headed with ale."

Ozzy wanted to say he didn’t remember but then he would be no different than the men that Fraser despised. That was not a company he wished to join so he took a few long deep breaths and brought those long slender fingers to his lips to kiss. It could have been a step too far, but it was more decent than what he really wanted at the moment and Ozzy prepared for the contact to be wrenched away again.

“I recall admitting that you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” he said softly, using his thumb to stroke the back of Fraser’s hand to disguise his attempts to move closer. Ozzy could have had the slight man on top of him with a quick yank of the hand but that would get him nowhere. “It’s as true now as it was last night...and when I saw you laid out in that clearing. I thought you were just a boy then but you opened your mouth to reveal the nature of man who’d lived such a sad life...My heart breaks and fire fills my belly when you speak of how you’ve been treated by those who should have cared for you. There is not much I can do to right your past but now that you’re in my company Doc, none you encounter will slight you again. I’ll not have it,” his voice raising only slightly as his eyes scanned the room over Fraser’s shoulder.

Moonlight shined through the stained glass windows and Ozzy knew that he should probably get up. He was to meet his company after the evening bells but couldn’t bring himself to rush Fraser’s questioning.

“Have you heard of a camp wife,” Ozzy asked as he shifted himself towards the edge of their divide. Close enough that he could feel Fraser’s heat and if Ozzy’s manhood came to full hardness it would surely give the young man a healthy poke in the thigh. “Probably not, ain’t something recorded in the annals of history,” Ozzy answered with a smirk as he shifted his head closer, his nose almost resting on Fraser’s forehead. “You’re a man, and though you struggle with affection, I’m sure you experience the same needs and desires as the next man. When we’re on tour there are women that make their living following the lines but when we’re garrisoned we have nothing but each other. Most would find a quiet corner or spend extra time in the latrines to satisfy themselves but there are some soldiers where the palm is not enough...and sometimes those soldiers found each other. Spending their nights doing the things that husbands and wives do when their alone. Most would tell you that they’d only done what was necessary to pass the time...I am not such a soldier,” Ozzy admitted and rolled onto his back. He knew the effects his next words would have on him and he wished not to disturb Fraser with his hardness. He did not let go of his hand though, even as he tucked his other behind his head.

“His name was Jeremy Marks...my shieldman...my camp wife. I’m not so foolish to say that I was not in love with him...that I was saddened when he found his wife. He was a good man too, and believed that what we shared broke the vows he promised her...didn’t keep him from the camp girls but I understood. Much like you, he was afraid of my feelings and had himself transferred out. I was admittedly devastated but carried on soldierin’ until Mother found me a wife. I’d never courted before and she seemed lovely enough...attentive and eager so I resigned myself to our nuptials and did my best to put the improper feelings I had for Jeremy behind me. I’d met Averey and Luc by then, so I understood that it wasn’t just Jeremy. I hoped that she would be enough. She too was beautiful and good, kind hearted and would have been a great wife and mother had she had the chance, but Maker saw to it to take her and my babe away. For the longest time I thought it punishment for my improper thoughts but I’ve seen enough since their deaths to know that Maker doesn’t set the rules here...and my thoughts are no more improper than those of men lusting after women.

“I like the feel of strength hidden beneath softness...of a stubbled chin against my neck at night. The smell of a man after a hard day’s labor...the taste of his sweat on my lips...his seed on my tongue. And don’t get me wrong...I can appreciate the grip of a woman but it is nothing like the hold of a man’s channel on my cock...Night grappling,” he mused, completely unaware that the hand that had been tucked behind his head had migrated to his crotch. As he spoke of the grip, Ozzy encircled his hardness between his thumb and first two fingers and squeezed in an attempt to calm himself but it was no use. The soldiers were on the march and there was only one order that could recall them.

“I want all those things with you but I also want to hold you at night. To answer all the obscure questions that pop into that beautifully inquisitive mind of yours. To show you what it’s like to be loved and appreciated for being you. I simply want you Fraser Pryce, as much or as little as you’re willing to give.”

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser was quiet for a long time. He was perceptive enough to be aware of the other man's posture and the subtle whispering movements beneath the sheets. There were a thousand potential conversations here, tomes' worth of potential inquiries. He let them rest and continued to force himself to remain in the moment.

"We have both lost so much," he sighed. "It's not your feelings I've been afraid of, you know. I have been fearful of much, surely, but I suppose one of my greatest fears has been... to experience more loss. I could complain of my isolation, but in truth, there's a certain safety in isolation.

"I never told you exactly why I lost my doctor's apprenticeship. My 'indiscretion' was with a beautiful young man whom the doctor regularly paid for sexual favours. Everyone, myself included, reacts most harshly out of fear. The doctor feared being exposed, so instead I was exposed, and fired, and poor Amadeo is still in prison as far as I know. He knew that what he did for a living was illegal and by most accounts immoral, but he had such a beautiful way of framing it. I have suffered terribly in the knowledge that his imprisonment had so much to do with me."

Fraser carefully freed his hand from Osbourne's and sat up, looking down at him in the subtle moonlight. "I learned quite a lot from Amadeo. Much of that learning concerned the hypocrisy of so very many men in positions of power, but... there were other things I learned that I think I would like to finally make good use of."

He drew the covers down carefully, noticing Osbourne's hesitation and nervousness.

"Shh - you don't need to keep hiding yourself in the dark. Let me."

He reached down confidently and found the man's big hand, gripping himself tightly. Fraser pushed at his hand impatiently so his own much smaller, softer hand could take over. He pulled in a gasp when his hand learned the size of it, his fingers falling quite short of wrapping fully around the thick, warm shaft.

"I don't know what the future may bring us," he whispered, "but you can be sure I won't be leaving you for any wife."

 

[ELEyogi]

Ozzy started to dispute Fraser’s claim of safety in isolation but thought it best to let the young man talk. For the first time since they were brought together, it finally seemed like he had broken through. Sure he hadn’t quite looked him in the eye but the distance between them had been steadily shrinking since the night before. He had assumed the closeness Fraser gave had been from drink and he was delighted to be proven wrong.

And he’s not fled…

If anything Fraser seemed more relaxed, almost content as they together. And as he began to tell of his failed apprenticeship and the man he met, the last of Ozzy’s exhaustion fell away. Only to be replaced by something else. The hand that had held steady against his girth was had begun to move slowly up and down his length.

To have been a fly on that wall…

Ozzy tensed as Fraser withdrew, the corners of his lips turned down slightly when he realized he may have gone too far with his ministrations.

"I learned quite a lot from Amadeo. Much of that learning concerned the hypocrisy of so very many men in positions of power, but... there were other things I learned that I think I would like to finally make good use of,” Fraser said as he pushed the blanket down to reveal his busy hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, though it came out in a hiss as he tried to conceal his hardness.

"Shh - you don't need to keep hiding yourself in the dark. Let me."

It was as if the world stopped. For a moment Ozzy was certain he’d died and this was his reward for living with honor and virtue. And if he had drawn his last breath, he would have been content to remain in this fantasy with those delicate fingers wrapped around his throbbing shaft.

"I don't know what the future may bring us," he whispered, "but you can be sure I won't be leaving you for any wife.”

It was not a dream. He was not dead. The feeling of those slender fingers struggling to grip his manhood was all too real. Ozzy let out a quiet grunt as Fraser began working his fist up and down his shaft. He gripped the sheets a moment to keep them from pawing at the smaller man but there was nothing he could do about his hips and their subtle thrusts.

“If you wish me not to hide then perhaps you’ll allow me to get undressed,” Ozzy said though he did not wait for permission, nor did he extract himself from Fraser’s embrace to shed the last layer of cloth between them. He kicked away his pants, along with the blankets and slipped an arm around Fraser’s back. Tentative fingers found the bottom of his threadbare undershirt and held tight, if only to keep himself from the tender flesh beneath.

“If you’ll accept this, then perhaps you will accept more,” Ozzy whispered as he reached to cup the young man’s face. Slowly, he lifted his head moving close enough to feel the warmth of Fraser’s breath. He brushed their noses together, slipped his thumb along those lips and when Fraser did not retreat, Ozzy ceased his mouth with his own.

 

[tamgreen]

Do you ever think about kissing a boy?

Amadeo's voice, in his head, as Osbourne leaned close to him. Fraser tensed up a little. He didn't want to think about Amadeo anymore, or about his guilt over the boy's downfall. He didn't want to think about his frivolous experiment that had had such fateful consequences, or about how much it had infuriated him knowing that the only reason he was a free man while Amadeo was thrown behind bars was an accident of birth.

Osbourne's hand on his back, that very large, strong hand. The other on his face, holding it in place. A nose brushing against his. A thumb on his lip. The man was all around Fraser, and Fraser's hand was still wrapped around that thick, hot flesh. The overwhelm of physical sensations suddenly muted his mental chaos. It was like being pulled underwater, very warm water. The world disappeared around them, and there was only this, a kiss.

The tension gradually eased from Fraser's small body, but he didn't move. He allowed it all without protest, but he was frozen. Would Osbourne think he didn't like it?

Fraser broke out of his paralysis and reached up with his free hand, pushing gently on Osbourne's chest until their lips parted.

"I'm sorry," he exhaled, staring at Osbourne's lips in the dim light of the moon. "I don't remember how to kiss. I feel very stupid. But it... it was very nice, honestly. Very... Oh. I shouldn't have stopped it. I'm sorry."

Stopping his own mouth now, Fraser pushed forward, mashing his lips against the bigger man's as his hand slid up and hooked around the back of Osbourne's neck. His other hand started moving again, squeezing and stroking the man's shaft in an enthusiastic effort to give him the relief he obviously needed.

 

[ELEyogi]

Ozzy felt Fraser’s shock as their lips met and expected to be rejected again. But just as he began to steel himself, the once tense body began to soften against his. Teeth clashed and there may have been blood in his mouth but Ozzy didn’t mind, so long as Fraser didn’t pull away.

Please don’t leave me…

His mind registered the hand on his chest, the gentle pressure behind it but the words that followed were not of rejection. Fraser barely moved from his embrace, his lips gently brushed against Ozzy’s as he uttered unnecessary apologies and explanations of his ineptitude. Ozzy opened his mouth to soothe the young man’s unease but was met with more lips.

A hand gripping the back of his neck…

Slender fingers moving along his shaft…

Ozzy was overcome. His heels dug into the mattress as his hip thrust to meet Fraser’s fist. The hand that had held fabric moved up to cradle the back of Fraser’s head, fingers slipped in between curls. The other reached up and took hold of a tender cheek as he pressed his tongue between those supple lips. A growl rumbled up from deep down in his loins as their tongues touched, signalling his impending release. His toes curled as he gripped a handful of those dark curls and pulled.

“Look what you’ve done to me,” he muttered against Fraser’s lips. “And you never have to be sorry for it...never...never...never,” he said between kissed along his jaw as he pulled his head back to expose his neck. Ozzy ran his lips down the center of his throat, swirled his tongue along his adam’s apple as his other hand gripped Fraser’s around his shaft. “Don’t let go,” he grunted as he worked their hands along his shaft. Ozzy buried his face in the crock of Fraser’s neck to muffle the throaty howl he knew would come with his climax.

How long has it been…

It was his last coherent thought before his seed exploded out of his tip and his body tense against Fraser’s. Pleasant shudders ran up and down his spine as he sent volley after volley of his hot milky essence.

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser sucked in a quick breath through his nose when he felt the other man's tongue touch his. This seemed exponentially more intimate to him than what his hand was doing with Osbourne's hard cock, in the same way that making eye contact carried even more weight to him than a verbal confession of emotions or intimate thoughts.

It was good, so good, delicious and warm and indulgent, and it made him feel intensely desired, but this in itself remained terrifying - his inner voices battled amongst themselves, negotiating whether to commit even further to this or flee from it. There was still a significant part of himself that defaulted to an imperative to withdraw, to lock himself away from all others where he could not be touched or even seen, but the other parts - the primal instincts that reached out for human contact and connection, and the physical parts that responded eagerly to sexual and sensual intimacy - kept him from pulling away. Moreover, on some level he was using the same technique he always used to stave off panic or other unwelcome thoughts or emotions - he threw himself wholly into a task.

His task, right now, was bringing Osbourne to satisfaction. As the other man's lips and tongue roamed, he focused tightly on the movement of his hand around the warm shaft, letting his pressure and speed be guided by the man's much larger hand over his, and he could feel the surge of life beneath his palm.

Don't let go...

Oh, it was happening! Fraser gasped and held on tightly - could he do otherwise with Osbourne's strong hand keeping his in place? There was so much raw power beneath his touch. It hadn't been like this with soft, careful, instructive Amadeo. The bellow, muffled against his neck, vibrating through his core, it was frightening and wonderful. The huge, thick cock pulsed and spewed, jetting milky seed over and over and over. Fraser might as well have been holding lightning and thunder in his hand.

At last he felt the strength seep away from Osbourne's body, and the big man melted back onto the bed, panting. Fraser sat up straight, still holding onto the now softening shaft although Osbourne had released him now. His eyes now well adjusted to the dim moonlight, he examined with curiosity the mess streaked and pooled all over the man's chest and belly.

"Oh, what a lot," he exhaled, followed by a brief, giddy giggle. "What a lot!"

 

[ELEyogi]

Ozzy lay flat on his back, stars danced in his blurred vision. His breaths came fast and sharp as he tried to regain his composure. He reached out for Fraser and that blessed hand, peeled it away from his spent cock.

“Thank you...thank you,” he panted between breaths as he brought the hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “I’m sorry for the mess,” he added with a chuckle as he ran his tongue along those slender fingers, catching drops of his own essence. His other hand fished around on the side of the bed, in search of his discarded pants to clean the rest before it dried. “Looks like I needed that more than I thought.”

Once the mess was clean and Ozzy had his wits about him, he pressed himself up to sit opposite Fraser. For a moment he just smiled at the boy, trying his best not to hold his gaze too long before he slipped his hand up to cup his face. “Thank you,” he said again and kissed him gently on the forehead, then both cheeks, and finally those lips to linger again. He allowed his tongue to slip out and teasing along Fraser’s bottom lip before he closed his mouth around it. “For a moment, I thought I’d died,” he whispered as he ran his nose along Fraser’s neck, breathing him in. “But that could not be. There can be no solace until I make you feel as I do in this moment,” he said as he slipped his hand down to rest on Fraser’s shoulders. “And I know that will take time...time we do not have at the moment,” he said with a glance at the windows above Fraser’s head. “But I beg you give me a chance upon our return, or tomorrow, or the next day. I simply wish for you to feel as good as I do...as content...as sated as I. I’ll not have you think me a selfish lover,” Ozzy added with a wink before he shuffled backward off the bed.

Once his feet were on solid ground, Ozzy stretched his arms up over head and let out another guttural grunt. He felt triumphant, his steps seemed lighter as he padded out of the room to find tender and light the torches. “We must dress now Doc,” he said once the room was bathed in warm candlelight. “If word has reached them, my...our company awaits our arrival at the Velvet Peach. You shall meet the ones who will help us ferret out those who plot our demise,” he said before he left again to find a change of clothes.

For this, Ozzy would need none of the finery that he arrived in. Simple canvas trousers and linen shirt beneath his leather tunic was all he needed. Again he wound his hair into a loose braid and smoothed out his beard before donning his leather glove. His weapon’s belt, boots, wide brimmed hat were the last pieces of his commoner’s ensemble, the latter he tuck beneath his arm as he made his way back to the bed chamber.

“I must warn you,” he said with a sideways smile as he leaned on the door frame. “They are not nearly as sweet as I. Goldie will surely tease you for one reason or another. The more you shrink the worse it gets so hold your ground as you did with me on the road. Quick will treat you with utter disdain but that’s how she treats every man she meets. She’ll soften eventually once she realizes you’re not trying to get in her breeches. Fletch won’t say much of anything, but he sees and hears all so if he pipes up we listen. I trust these three with my life Doc, and I hope, in time, you can do the same.”

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser smiled softly at the kisses and nuzzles, finding that he was growing steadily fonder of the experience of affectionate touch. It was the language Osbourne spoke, and communicated that he was cherished. Fraser hadn't been special to someone in many years, and even when he'd been a small child adored by his mother, she hadn't been the most physically affectionate person. Although she did hug and kiss him at times, she showed her love primarily in including him in her passionate work, teaching him everything she could, and investing boundless faith in him and what he was capable of. Perhaps this was one of the reasons he'd grown into a man who was inclined to talk endlessly, yet shrank initially from physical tenderness.

Right now he didn't have much to say. Despite everything, he was inexplicably nervous about his own arousal, and hid himself by pulling his knees against his chest as he watched Osbourne walk around, putting on lights and gathering clothes. As much as his body was begging for the same type of attention he'd given to Osbourne, he was relieved there wasn't time now for the man to reciprocate - it had been a lot to take in one day.

But when Osbourne said the word "lover", it planted in his head like a seed in fertile soil. Was that what they were - lovers? It was more appealing than he would have expected, given his lifelong commitment to study, logic, and dispassion, and he found himself in yet another of a long series of emotional paradoxes - he was as disappointed as he was relieved that they couldn't continue.

The talk of Osbourne's colleagues brought him back to earth. Here was another thing to fret over. He hadn't expected any kind of meeting tonight, least of all with these people Osbourne had spoken so much about.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier we had such a meeting ahead of us?" he exclaimed, leaping up off the bed, his arousal now calmed back to neutral by the sudden stress.

"Well, I don't need them to be 'sweet' to me - no one ever is, leastwise not until recently, and now I have you for that," he stated, pushing his worry inside and moving forward with the necessary preparations, his expression and posture shifted into neutral.

He hurried to the library and pulled on his cleanest set of travelling clothes, relieved he had something basic that he'd worn for only half a day before switching to borrowed finery from Lucan. He hurriedly laced up his boots.

"If you need me to trust them, I'll do so, but don't expect them to like me, or me them," he added, marching back out into the hallway and nearly colliding with Osbourne when he got there. Their eyes met and his expression softened.

"Are they going to know that we're...?" he asked in a near-whisper, pausing to swallow, "...lovers? If that's... really an appropriate term...?"

 

[ELEyogi]

“I meant more in a general sense...but I would say that what we shared just now was an act of love,” Ozzy said, the last to assure the fretful young man that the act meant more to him than simple release. He didn’t want Fraser to think himself into panic over his poor choice of words. “Nothing would delight me more than for you to think of me in that way, but I will not force it. Call me what you like Doc, so long as you call me.”

Ozzy finished with one last kiss and hoped it would be enough to satisfy Fraser’s curiosity for now. He was certain there were an infinite amount of questions swirling around that precise mind, and he would answer them when the time came but for now he needed Fraser focused at the task at hand. Getting across the city.

He was sure the Innkeeper would have one of his minions pursue them. It was why he chose the Velvet Peach, the brothel was almost as exclusive as The Inn. Despite being located in the Dockside District, the madam ran a tight ship. And with Quick at the door, no one but regulars were allowed entry. And those in the company of regulars of course.

With a hand on Fraser’s back, Ozzy ushered him towards the door of his suite. He placed a finger to his own lips just before he stepped out into the corridor and made a swift retreat out of the Inn proper. He didn’t speak again until they made their way out of the courtyard and Ozzy took Fraser on a short tour of the Castle District, but it wasn’t a sightseeing trip. Fraser needed to know his surrounding, where to find safety. “If there is a time where you can’t get to me, the safest place for you is just beyond that gate,” he said as they passed the Clifton estate. It was one of the largest with manicured gardens behind a wrought iron fence and a guardhouse staffed with retired Royal Guardsmen.

He didn’t allow them to linger, instead moved along through Boudin Square. The park was deserted at such a late hour but Ozzy thought Fraser might appreciate the botanical oasis within the city walls. From there they wound their way around the city in a serpentine pattern with Ozzy pointing out places of note as they went. If they were being followed, it would seem he was taking his new employee on a tour of the city that culminated with a visit to one of the city’s bawdy houses

They arrived to find Quick at her post, cleaning her nails with a throwing blade. She didn’t acknowledge them, nor Ozzy her but she left out a whistle that opened the heavy door and followed them inside. Once they made it through the curtained entryway, the trio entered the rawkus parlor where women in various stages of undress entertained men from all walks of life. There were sailors and merchants, craftsmen and nobles all coming together to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. Ozzy did his best to keep a hand on Fraser, knowing the boy would be overwhelmed and distracted by all these new sights and sounds. Quick did well clearing a path towards the back and they made their way threw the kitchen and up the backstairs to a door that seemed out of place.

“Stiil pickin’ up strays, are you,” Quick said with a heavy sigh as she threw her shoulder into the door.

“Yet you made no complaints when I picked you up,” was Ozzy’s snarky reply before she threw her arms around his neck and dragged him into the room where two other men sat at a table playing a game of knuckle bones. “I’ll not have your sass tonight Bevin...we’ve important things to discuss…”

“But first a drink,” came from the flaxen haired man perched on a stool too tall for the table. It was clear though as he stood that he had already had his share. The dark skinned man who sat opposite him simply shook his head before offering both Fraser and Ozzy a nod.

“That’s enough for you Goldie,” Ozzy said as he wrenched the cask from the other man’s fist only to take a few swigs himself. “I need you all clear eyed for this.”

Ozzy made introduction and ushered Fraser into a seat before he laid out all he’d learned in the last few days. As usual, there were very few questions. The sense of urgency was obvious and they’d all been in positions where wasting time with details could have gotten them killed. And there was no reason not to trust him, Ozzy had yet to steer them wrong. At least until, he started talking about them relocating.

“I can’t stay there Oz. You know that place gives me the creeps,” Goldie said with a look of displeasure that almost seemed childlike. “Ain’t no fun…”

“Ain’t you he’s talkin’ ‘bout,” came from Quick as she shift her eyes to the only man who’d yet to say a word. “I’ll do it but I’m telling you right now first one tries to put me in a dress is gettin’ skinned.”

“Elric is too busy spinning his wheels to worry about your trouser habit,” Ozzy said and Quick rolled her eyes. “And having all of you with me will make things easier for all of us. Last thing I need is for him to send you out to an ambush.”

“I mean no offense,” came from Fletch and everyone at the table gave him their full attention, though his eyes were on Fraser. “We are all much better equipped for such things.”

“Yes, but I’d rather not invite the challenge…”

“You’re scared,” Quick whispered and Ozzy shrugged his shoulders.

“Not just for me,” Ozzy admitted and swept his gaze around the room meeting all of their eyes. “I made each one of you a promise when I brought you in and I intend to keep it.”

"Right then, so who gets the honor of sendin' this one's dear brother to Maker's door," Quick asked with hard eyes on Fraser and the rest follow suit. He recognized it for what it was, a test of Fraser's loyalty. All he could do was hope that the boys answer would satisfy them

 

[tamgreen]

As they entered what Fraser realized only once they were in the thick of it was a brothel, he held his breath against the overwhelming scents of sweaty bodies and sex and tried hard not to look as out of place as he felt. His eyes grew very wide but he looked at nothing except Osbourne's heels as he followed along. After that brief stretch of their journey, being in a closed room with Osbourne's three compatriots was a relief.

As the discussion rolled onward, Fraser kept his eyes lowered, appearing to be watching the table, or everyone's hands. Most people were very expressive with their hands, and hands were much more comfortable to look at than faces. It didn't take him long to get a pretty good sense of each of Osbourne's three colleagues while the back of his mind processed the conversation, not understanding exactly what was said throughout, but picking up most of it from contextual clues.

When he realized that everyone's eyes had fallen upon him at the last question, he looked up quickly and glanced around at each of their faces before returning his gaze to the table. So they meant to kill Kemp, and they expected him to judge who was most fitting for the task...? He didn't want anyone to kill anyone, but he could grudgingly acknowledge that this had likely become a kill-or-be-killed situation.

"It isn't any kind of an honour," he stated flatly. "No more so than putting down a lame horse or a mad bull. For all his bluster, Kemp is stupid and craven. By rights it should be me who has to do it, considering how long he's made me suffer, but I'm sure you can all tell by looking at me that sending villains to meet the Maker is hardly my wheelhouse. Next greatest right goes to Osbourne, whom Kemp also intended not to return. However... I can imagine that in his current position, it may present too much of a liability. Besides this, I fear he'd be a little overeager about it, and that, too, is a liability."

Fray spared the briefest of glances in Osbourne's direction before he faced forward, now staring at a place on a blank wall beyond the group gathered at the table.

"It ought to be someone who can be calm, sober-headed, and efficient about it, and not treat it like some sort of sport or exploit," he declared, and raised a hand to point in Fletch's direction without looking at him.

 

[ELEyogi]

Ozzy could find no fault in the boy’s logic, nor could anyone else for that matter. Even Quick offered a small smile before she stood from the table and disappeared behind a curtain at the back of her flat.

Fletch offered Fraser a contemplative look before he sat back, and laced his fingers together at his chest. “Doctor you say,” he asked Ozzy, though his eyes remained on Fraser. “He’d be wasted in the infirmary.”

“Aye, I feel the same but it is his choice to make,” Ozzy said and placed a hand on Fraser’s shoulder for the briefest of moments before he moved to sit heavily on Quick’s straw mattress. “He’s right, we must handle this delicately. Before the deed is done, we’ll need to gather as much information from Jacoby as we can…”

“Shall I make friends,” came from Goldie, who seemed all of a sudden sober. His back straight and eyes clear. “You know I love a chance to cozen the aristocracy.”

“It’s one of the few things you’re actually good at,” came from Quick as she reappeared with a dusty cask and set it down in the center of the table before she reclaimed her seat across from Fraser. She uncorked the bottle and the room was immediately filled with the sickeningly sweet aroma of Loam’s wine, which wasn’t exactly wine at all.

It was the consistency of maple syrup and more intoxicating than most spirits but that wasn’t what made it extraordinary. The wine itself was the product of the distillation of Mother’s Milk, the sacramental beverage of the Loamio Temple, which in itself was the fermented breast milk of the Cherished Mothers. These women lived a life of repose while they remained in a perpetual state of lactation and were fed a diet rich in fats and sweets to aid in the fermentation process. Rare and expensive, Loam’s wine was usually reserved for special occasions.

There was no occasion more special than returning from a mission unscathed, or inducting a new member to their special band of misfits. Given his effortless response, Ozzy was not surprised when Quick lined up five tumblers along the table’s edge. He offered the young man a wink as Quick filled each with a hefty pour and distributed them amongst the men who all stood from their seats.

“To the Crown,” Ozzy said, his glass held high.

“To the Kingdom,” came from Goldie.

“To my brothers...and Quick,” came from Fletch with a nod at Fraser.

“To Umbra,” Quick said and Fletch let out a snort, before they all turned their attention to Fraser.

“No one drinks ‘til you toast Doc...thems the rules if you wanna be in our gang,” Quick offered with a smirk.

“Let’s not invite anymore of the Gods in though shall we,” Goldie said with a raised eyebrow.

 

[tamgreen]

Fraser was surprised by how satisfactorily this meeting was progressing. Although he was new to them, and certainly different, they actually wanted to hear what he had to say and, even more surprisingly, seemed to respect it. Having one person treating him more or less as an equal was a rare experience; an entire group accepting him was unprecedented.

When the cask came out, he swallowed back his trepidation. He knew well enough what this was just from reading and keeping his ears open, despite having never been anywhere near it. He followed the lead the others set and stood up, accepting the tumbler and keeping Osbourne at the edge of his vision.

Religion and ritual were strange curiosities to Fraser Pryce, who embraced fact, logic, and everything he could observe. However, at this point in his life, he could at least acknowledge and observe the social role of ritual - there was something about it that provided a sort of proverbial glue that held certain populations together. He had at times theorized that his own questioning of, and disinterest in, most social rituals was one of the primary things that flagged him as an outsider to others. He was frustrated by anything that didn't seem to make inherent sense, and he struggled to see the sense in the consumption of this particular questionable substance, as well as the practice of toasting, but this time he opted not to immediately alienate these people by calling into question their internal practices. He decided he'd try to be a part of this, and see how well the ritual actually worked in terms of forming a bond.

Swallowing to try to clear his dry throat as everyone looked at him expectantly, he groped mentally for something he could say that would have personal significance to him, and not compromise the rapport he'd begun to build with these people.

His hand only trembled for a brief moment as he held his glass.

"To... new friends," he stated, his eyes cutting to Osbourne as his lips twitched in something that may have been a tiny smile. "And brave heroes."

When everyone lifted their glasses to drink, he placed his against his lips and just let it touch. How far would he let himself be drawn into these rituals? Would it be worth it?

 

[ELEyogi]

All except Ozzy exhibited some degree of displeasure at the consumption of the viscous liquor. Quick immediately held her nose and puffed out her cheeks in an attempt to keep the contents of her stomach in place. Goldie did a bit of a dance, hopping from one foot than the other with his shoulders drawn up to his ears, as he forced himself to swallow. Even the ever stoic Fletch slammed his fist down on the table and bowed his head as Loam’s wine made its way down his gullet. Ozzy simply drank it down, wondering why it was that they’d decided on this as their ritual of return when none but him seemed to enjoy it.

The smell reminded him of his childhood, tagging along with Nuresto in the distillery when he should have been at his lessons with the other children. It was his adopted big brother who snuck Ozzy his first taste and followed him on his drunken wander into the Idyllwildes. It was a rite of passage for all Loamio children. How was Nuresto to know that such an event would send Ozzy on a quest that would take him away from them forever?

“Now that’s settled,” he said with a wink at Fraser who’s tumbler still had remnants in the bottom. While the others were still in the throws of their own consumption, Ozzy eased himself around to stand at Fraser’s side and took up the young man’s glass only to replace it with his own. “You two will be at the Inn at first light,” he said to Quick and Fletch. To Goldie, he said, “Get yourself quartered here for the night and report to the Inn by second meal for instruction...and make yourself presentable.”

“Aye, sir,” came from all three and Ozzy offered them a nod.

“Enjoy this night you three, for tomorrow there’ll not be room for loafing.”

“Aye, sir,” they all said again.

With that, Ozzy bid his company farewell and motioned for Fraser to follow him back outside. They did not go back the way they came, instead followed the stairs down to the alley behind the Velvet Peach. He took a glance up and down the row of thrown together shacks and nodded towards the dock.

“We’ll take the long way ‘round,” he said quietly to Fraser, though he didn’t look at him right away. His gaze sweeping along over his head. “I did not want to alarm you but we were followed from the Inn. A little scamp from the motley scurrying along behind us...he’s probably in the shadows out front waiting for us to come out. He’ll get bored eventually and report that we’re made our evening in the bawdy house,” he said with a snort and gave Fraser’s shoulder a squeeze. “You did good Doc...real good. I hope you see that as much as I. I also hope you see that not everyone you meet is out to get you...that you can trust my friends and perhaps someday you will consider them yours as well.”

Ozzy led Fraser on a leisurely stroll along the Dockside district towards the market square where there were still a few shops open. Jewelry and textile merchants mostly but still enough to draw a few shoppers so late in the evening. “I’ll bring you here tomorrow,” he said as they passed a shuttered tailor’s shop. “Our tailor is mostly for...purposeful wears. If you’re to be my assistant you’ll need to dress accordingly...I’ll need to dress accordingly,” he added with a chuckle as he turned them down Temple Row.

As usual, Ozzy’s eyes were drawn to Palume’s temple with it ever burning orbs of light that lined its walk. In all his years in Brynsland, he’d still not worked out how they came to be, nor why his ring finger itched whenever he came near it. He was told of a prophecy as a child but even then he didn’t put much credence to it. If he were a child of Palume then how was it that he came to be raised amongst the Loamio? Why had no one from the High Temple in Inselberg come to retrieve him? In his travels Ozzy met several who hailed from the frigid north and had long since come to the conclusion that he might as well. His ruddy skin and high cheekbones, straight nose and heavy brow. His strikingly red hair and icy blue eyes. His broad shoulders and angled jaw, all pointed to his northern origins but Ozzy had never dug further. He’d come to the conclusion long ago that his reticence was fear based. Afraid that he’d actually been discarded, abandoned in the Idyllwildes and that his reemergence would lead to sorrow for those who’d left him to die. It was best not knowing.

When they came to the Inn, Ozzy led Fraser around back to avoid the bustle of the parlor. And the Innkeeper’s portholes. Whether the man knew of their return or not didn’t matter much, but Ozzy had found it best to keep a query guessing when on the hunt. He made his way into the kitchen and found the serving girl from earlier to request their evening meal be sent up to his new quarters before slipping up the backstairs with Fraser in tow.