"Broken Shards"

[zauberdecke]

"In the dark
I need to taste the blood
Go on, draw another line
We can cross this time."
- Blindfold by Sleeping Wolf

---



[ Essek Thelyss: Shadowhand to the Dynasty.

One who reached further then the Luxon would allow, who would do absolutely anything for knowledge. Oh no, the man did not care for power, not really. He wanted to cast himself into the portal of knowing, he wanted to surrender himself to books and learning without having to deal with the mundanities of socio-politics that all of the Kryn engaged in. It was tedious and it filled him with sickness even as he plastered on an urbane smile for all and sundry to see.

Within the Dynasty, it was customary to take pets of the Empire; they were brought in across the border of Asarius, across the mountains and into the Dynasty. There were Dynasty born pets on the other side, both lost to the ravages of the other's civilization, generally never to be seen again.

Essek had never really had an interest to begin with when it came to pets; at the market he carefully avoided the slave blocks where those not of the Dynasty were paraded around. However, it had come to this-- it had come to his trading of the Beacon, and in return he recieved a Volstrucker to serve him. And yet, for all of that, Essek Thelyss had not thought he would receive a broken Volstrucker.

In fair trade, he and recieved a dossier on the man in question and had perused it with only a small semblance of annoyance while Trent Ikithon had assured him that a man like him could be rebuilt, the honeyed words of a silken snake which Essek recognized.

After all did not a predator recognize another predator? So now he held in his household a man whom had to be guarded carefully, though Essek was not cruel despite how he imagined Dynasty pets were treated, the cage that he had placed this Volstrucker named Bren within, well it was comfortable-- he'd seen pictures of Vergossen so he supposed it must be far better than that place. But he had not precisely interacted with him-- most of his unseen servants were given the walking of him, the care and maintenance of him.

Perhaps because he did not precisely know what to do with him, or what use he had for something broken. Though he arguably did not know what manner of broken the Volstrucker was, but after a week-- he decided perhaps it was time to summon him and see for himself; acertain what sort of work was cut out for him.

If this man was worth putting back together again.

So it was one evening, he had the Empire man summoned to his chambers. ]

Comments

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren shifted closer to the food and tucked in. He was hungry, after all, and something in what had transpired between them made the food seem appealing once again, as if some shred of absolution had been granted in the brief punishment that his master had administered.

Finishing, he was still chewing a final piece of fruit as he gathered up his books. One pause and he decided it was probably all right to dress himself once more. That done, he moved to settle to kneeling at Essek's feet with his books and his new task -- a task that he was eager to pursue for the nature of it in addition to wanting to be an obedient pet, to earn another scrap of praise, or soft touch of those cool, perfectly manicured fingers.

Flipped pages between the Undercommon dictionary, the history book, and his own notebook, moving between all three with a methodical, purposeful approach. He mouthed the words silently -- pronunciation may have to wait, given that his own magically enforced silent made it difficult to suss out if he was shaping the sounds correctly. But that would come.

Eventually, Essek would feel Bren's forehead come to rest against his leg, waiting for his Master to have attention to spare.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Within Essek's periphery, he saw that Bren was doing rather great justice to the mini charcuterie board put out in front of him; he expressed more than a little bit of approval at the way that Bren continued to be a good boy; the session had done wonders, it appeared. It made Essek believe that a liberal hand would be good going forward when it came to doling out punishment.

He would read the room however, to make sure that he was not overdoing it.

Not many Dynasty officials though worried about much when it came to their pets, however Essek knew this was a special case and must be guarded assiduously. There was a brief pause though within his reading as he felt Bren's head press against the slight curve of his knee, to which point he looked up from his reading and then down toward his Pet. ]

Yes? You may use your notebook to convey what you wish to me, Chathtiu. [ He said as he settled his hand right against the top of Bren's head, giving it an approving caress as his thumb combed lightly through locks of crimson ginger. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren tried not to be too distracted by the touch of that hand -- but it was growing harder. He was starting to crave the contact, the gentleness of it, the unspoken approval that lingered in it. He took a moment to scribble down Chathtiu on a page behind what he was working on to look up later, because that was certainly new, and he was curious. Was it Undercommon for Pet? Something less flattering? His curiosity was piqued.

Right though he'd had a reason for interrupting his master's reading though, and nodded before holding up the already written question in his book.]

'Vel'uss zhah Adeen?'

['Who is Adeen?' It was baby's first sentence in Undercommon. The spelling and syntax were perfect, but maybe the question was a bit impertinent. He'd decided to chance it anyway. Curiosity killed cats an Empire kittens in equal numbers, after all, were it not allowed to try to indulge itself.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Well, that was a question.. wasn't it? ]

That's a clever boy-- [ In response to the words writ on the notebook, perfect Undercommon-- it was clear that Essek was only going to grow more impressed with his Pet by the day.

But it was a valid question, of course it was-- and his pet did have a right to know who exactly shared this place even if Essek's quarters were cut off from Adeen's. Generally he was alright with Adeen coming into his chambers because it gave Essek the presumptive thrill of telling him to 'get out'. He spent a long moment considering it. ]

The word for it is 'M'randii though, it does not quite fit; it is husband though it is an arranged marriage and one that I could do nothing about so now I have to, ah~ I guess live with it.

[ The tone of Essek's voice was telling enough as it was without the words getting in the way. ] He occupies the other wing within this Manor home, and his own Pet-- Tesleen, is housed there as well. [ And then a little bit more sharply. ] He has no claim over you, your ownership lies directly with me.

[ausgebrannt]

[Oh. He did not expect how strong the rush of pleasure at being called clever would be, but there it was, a buzzing, fluttery feeling that settled in his chest and left him more determined to prove that he was worth keeping, worth the Shadowhand's attention. Bren listened to the answer, paying heed to what wasn't said as to what was. There was an unmistakable tinge of disdain in that tone, and he found himself immediately less than fond of this Adeen as well. A brief nod at those last words.

He quickly thumbed to the page he needed in the dictionary. Basic sentence structure was already becoming clear enough. Subject verb. Subject verb object. The vocabulary took a moment, but he wanted to try.]

'Usstan kampi'un. Usstan tlun dossta. Naut ukt.'

['I understand. I am yours. Not his.' And Bren would hold to that as long as he were permitted, to being Essek's.

Another pause and another moment of page flipping and a quickly written sentence. Still basic grammar, still simple vocabulary. But he was certainly asking the questions. And certainly there was no way that writing these things about Adeen on the same page of his notebook that he would carry everywhere could ever possibly backfire on him in any way. Nope.]

Dos xun naut che ukta? ['You do not love him?']

[zauberdecke]

Uk zhah naut khurzon de' tluin che--

[ After he uttered that phrase, he took up the pen and the notebook from Bren with a delicate hand and wrote the phrase down on the parchment; deciding that since his Pet was a precocious learner, he would allow for a bit more practical teachings, though he tapped his fingertip lightly against the edge of the book and then he continued on another vein.

A helpful hint, if you will. 'Nindol zhah udossta szeous, siyo?' They had secrets together it would see, and Essek did not want anyone thinking that he was teaching his Pet such a valuable skill as Undercommon-- especially considering that he knew that most Owners spoke in Undercommon to confuse their Pets. Unfortunately, Essek did not see the purpose for it when it came to his own Pet; this was a dangerous thing that he was doing but honestly? Perhaps it could be a valuable skill to have.

One could easily say things in Undercommon, in front of a Pet, that they did not want being revealed to anyone else. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren could pick out a few of those words even spoken, and was fairly sure he got the gist. Once Essek had written it down, he'd verify this, of course, finding himself pleasantly surprised. It was such basic day one vocabulary -- though deserve was a good verb, and one that he took note of -- but Bren liked learning, took to it like a duck to water with just as much metaphorically happy splashing. Apparently in the unwritten instruction manual of The Care of Feeding of Broken Volstruckers, liberal application of punishment and access to learning new skills were paramount to keeping an Empire Pet happy.

He took the notebook back, sparing a moment to craft the phrase he wanted.]

'Uk zhah naut kurzon d'dos.'

[Clearly. If someone as kind and forgiving even to a broken plaything given to him by the enemy could not find the worth in someone speaks in so much disdain despite the fact that this man was his husband? It was very obvious that this was true, that Adeen in no way deserved Essek. Bren may have been developing a bias, but he would stand by the truth of the statement regardless.]

'Siya. Udossta szeous.'

[Their secret. One that Bren would guard closely. He understood that this was not precisely the normal course of things with Pets, that teaching him the language would likely be frowned upon. But he also knew it could be useful, for himself yes, but for his Master as well.]

[zauberdecke]

You are picking up more than I would've expected in but a few hours-- this pleases me.

[ He speaks this in common, and it is a very soft thing, the tone of Essek's voice-- like the press of silk against calloused skin. Already this was but one of Bren's talents, and he wondered what others would be revealed in time. But, there were no rules that defined what he could teach his Pet within his garden walls, the only thing to practice was discretion outside of it.

And dare he say, he was finding himself more than a little bit dazzled by his Pet. It was not only those sad eyes, but the sparkle of something-- an intelligence within them as well. And then eventually, he found out that the sparkle was a bonfire of vibrant curiosity.

He hooked his fingers underneath the collar then, lightly. ]

Dorn ragar natha i'dol ulu dispell nindol sslu. [ And then he repeated the process of writing it down with the notebook, so that Bren could dissect it at it's most basic grammatical level-- but it was true that the collar did need to go, he was finding that he did not so much enjoy the thought of Trent Ikithon being privy to his private conversations. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren brightened at the praise. This time when he wrote, it was in Common.]

'I have a good memory for words. And numbers. And most things.'

[Sometimes he remembered all too well, and it haunted him, but it did come in handy in his studies, to be able to recall what he had heard and read and seen. He added another line below the first, accompanying the words with a faint smile tinged by a hint of sheepishness at the way what he had just written likely sounded like ego. At the end of the day, he was a wizard, and a certain level of arrogance and hubris would ever be in his blood, despite the hard lessons he'd learned. The next words though were self-effacing.]

'Rest assured, my accent will likely be abysmal. I have been told I sound Zemnian even in my Sylvan and Celestial.'

[Bren stilled as those fingers hooked into his collar, chin lifting and eyes fixing on Essek's. He swallowed, but turned his attention to the written words, a few moments to look up the new vocabulary before he turned a surprised but grateful look up at the drow, nodding. Yes, he would like that. He would like the collar and that connection to Ikithon gone, even if it was replaced with another silencing collar of Essek's design, it would still be better.]

'Can you pick locks?'

[He lifted a finger to tap the small nearly invisible keyhole in the collar. The spell itself was a high level, and the lock complicated. But spells could be dispelled. And locks could be picked.]

[zauberdecke]

[ It was not an unpleasant thing to watch Bren come alive like this, in a flurry of curiosity and studious rapture, taking all of the tools provided and actually making use of them; the Shadowhand rather thought that he got the better end of the deal when it came to receiving a pet, no matter how irreparable that Trent Ikithon thought him to be.

The true hubris was men in power discarding things before properly assessing their use.

Already, he was marveling at his fortune although he hid it quite well. ]

'As you will only be conversing with myself in Undercommon, I think you can be forgiven your Zemnian accent.' [ Then at the very last comment, Essek pointed toward a rather fine hairpin of which he immaculately kept a few curls held in place. It was the sort of hairpin with a very sharp end-- then he took a turn with the pen and book. ]

'I am the Shadowhand, if I do not have a means to pick locks then I would not make a very good one. You could say that in my line of work, espionage is encouraged.'

[ausgebrannt]

[So his master was also a spy master. Interesting. And the exact sort of person that Trent Ikithon would want information about, want to use to his advantage -- whether that was through dealings, bribery, flattery or some sort of blackmail or extortion, and many of these things could be gleaned from listening in on the spelled collar of a pet whose presence could likely be little more than an afterthought.

He craned up from where he still knelt, so he could watch the words as Essek wrote them, but settled back to try to be patient, until the notebook was once more back in his hands. He nodded, considering before taking pen to paper once more.]

'It is a complex lock, but it can be picked. I've never managed it, but Astrid had clever enough fingers. If it is unlocked this way rather than dispelling the magic, it can be removed, but any spell that is on it will remain on it. This could be useful, if Ikithon believes his means of eavesdropping is still intact. Perhaps a small charade of banishing me to a cell somewhere for displeasing you, and leaving the collar tucked away to be retrieved when you have use of feeding particular information, or misinformation, to whoever may be listening.'

[So your Pet was also a schemer, Essek. Sorry to say.]

[zauberdecke]

Mmmmm...

[ There was much consideration to the tone of that hmmm; it was the tone of someone who was percolating the information given and thinking of the possibilities. He would put this away for later though he did very carefully reach over to tear out that little strip of paper. He folded it then and then he summoned up his dimensional wristpocket and then very carefully stored it within for future ponderings. ]

What a very good boy you are.

[ There was the sound of a whisper in the air, like a huff and a brush-- discernable only to Essek and then finally he nodded with a keen tilt of his own head. ] The good news is that all of your things have been moved to my bedchambers, your bed pallet is now at the foot of my bed where you shall sleep-- unless you displease me, in which case I can have you removed at any time.

[ The words had been chosen carefully, as if he was setting Trent Ikithon up for the possibility that Bren could potentially disappoint him; thereby, giving him the opportunity to banish the collar. ]

You have, after all, shown yourself to have a vein of willfulness, I blame that on the Empire in you.

[ Essek touched a finger to his own lip, a 'our secret' gesture. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren did not protest the tearing of the paper, ducking his head in acknowledgment and acquiescence. Best to be careful of all of this, yes, with Ikithon involved, and the fact that Essek Thelyss, Shadowhand to the Bright Queen was having daelings with a mage of the Cerberus Assembly and the Empire. Essek was already playing a dangerous game, and Bren would do what he could to support him in this. Already the Shadowhand had captured Bren's sense of loyalty and built it back from where it had been such a shattered, ruined thing. To hell with the Empire. To hell with all of it. He could serve this man, kind but firm, merciful but unyielding. Fair.

Yes, Bren could be devoted to that, to him.

He looked up at those words, almost hopeful, like perhaps the words might be accompanied by a stroke of those fingers through his hair. When it didn't come he tried not to be too disappointed, holding his notebook in his lap and nodding. So Essek had meant that he would be keeping him close after his misbehavior earlier. He was grateful for it. Being alone was its own sort of hell, filled with the voices his own mind drummed up to torment him and the memory of his parents' dying screams.

The secret gesture drew a faint flicker of a smile over his lips and a silently mouthed 'Thank you, Master.'

He turned his attention back to his notebook, opening the dictionary to check that one word that Essek had used earlier. Chathtiu. Firefly. For a moment Bren's chest felt strangely tight, then a slowly unfolding explosion of warmth. Ah. That was...

More than he deserved.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The rest of the evening was spent in quietude; it was clear that the Shadowhand enjoyed more than a fair bit of peace and quiet; the mutual flick back and forth of pages, the softest scribble of pen against parchment. It was a silence that was filled with companionship and perhaps even a small bit of warmth-- it wasn't awkward at all.

When Bren started to grow tired, that tell-tale yawn and the silent thunk of head against his knee, that is when he knew it was time for them to retire.

He'd likely still read a fair bit of time in the bed, with the glow of candlelight to guide his bedtime reading-- but it was time for all Puppies to go to bed. So he very calmly urged Bren to get up, and then it was but a soft traipse down the hallway and toward his own quarters. It was a sparse affair, very utilitarian-- but then Essek spent so little time here aside from dressing and preparing for events; even his trances were often times indulged in within the study.

Bren was guided toward the foot of the bed where there was a very soft and warm pallet laid out in a little drawer that came out at the foot of the bed. It looked like a trundle bed, much in the same way that likely Bren Ermendrud spent his first years before he graduated to the loft of his parent's cabin-- it smelled different though, like lavender and fresh snow-- it scented of Essek.

And the linens and pillows were warm and luxurious-- the linens of Bren's own little pallet had been nice, but not this nice. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[The silence was comfortable, and it did not bother Bren in the least. He hadn't spoken a word for a decade, and in the brief time where he had been free of his madness, before Ikithon had captured him and forced the collar around his neck. This was different though. He felt safe, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt anything like that.

So dozing off settled by the Shadowhand's feet was only natural. He was a bleary, drowsy thing as Essek stirred him, but he stood and followed along with the drow, looking around at hallways that he had not yet traversed, and into his master's room.

The spartan nature of it was perhaps only a bit surprising. There was something luxurious about Essek as a person, as if he were made from fine spidersilk and satin, from precious amethyst, bound together with the cool white glow of moonlight, but he as also precise and efficient, and that was apparent as well.

Stopping short, he looked at the little trundle set out for him with a sudden rush of memory. A better time. That he had set to burning in a conflagration that had destroyed everything that had been good in him.

Shaking himself out of the memory, he settled himself to a seat on the pallet, running finges over the soft, warm bed linens. So soft. And there was no missing that growingly-familiar scent of lavender and winter, of Essek. A silent question was turned up to Essek. Bedtime?]

[zauberdecke]

Hmmm, yes-- it is bedtime; though I will probably read a bit longer before I trance.

[ There was linen pants folded up and ready for being donned, there was also a cup of water settled there in a little rest on the wood of the trundle. He then points toward a little room off to the side. ] The bathing room is there, though you do not need to ask permission to use it-- in public you will however.

[ already Essek was starting to undo the fastenings of his own garments and then he turned toward his dresser as the garment slipped down off his shoulders until they hit the elbow; to which he then removed it the natural way and then lightly tossed the garment into the air.

It was immediately caught by unseen hands and then ferried away. Such a gesture certainly did show off to advantage the planes of Essek's slender back-- impossibly straight as if his composure was everything.

Bren would likely have to lick his bisexual disaster off the floor-- that is if he was looking.

Thankfully to prevent any real spillage, Essek took his own sleep pants and then disappeared behind his dressing screen to complete his own change. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Another nod. He was a bit jealous of elves and their need for little sleep, but he could accept his own human limitations. At the mention of the bathing room he was on his feet once more, about to head that way when, well, he realized his master was undressing.

Of course he was looking, and he was indeed melting into a disaster all over the place, eyes roaming over the graceful arch of that slender back, the expanse of flawless skin that he knew would be absurdly soft to the touch and. Oh. Oh well that was something he was going to have to deal with, wasn't it?

...maybe even right now. In the bathing room. He ah. He grabbed up the sleep trousers that had been left for him and retreated to the bathroom to breathe. Door shut and he stripped out of his clothes, though he hesitated before put on his pajamas. His head was swimming with that glimpse at Essek's back, at the feeling of those fingers that had stroked through his hair again and again like it was nothing, at the memory of that stern voice and the riding crop striking against his ass. Losing the battle against his own self control, he took his prick in hand, length already half stirred and quickly rising to answer the swandive that Bren's thoughts had taken into the gutter.

He could be quick. He could be quiet. Gods he was a pathetic mess, wasn't he? Fuck.]

[zauberdecke]

[ thankfully for Bren, Essek was too focused on the fact of his traditional evening preparations for bed; the donning of his own sleep clothing-- how he took the pins out of hid hair, the massive amount of scented lotions he applied to his skin in a complex dance of vanity which held roots in making sure he was always ready and picture perfect for the public.

So no, the Shadowhand had no idea of what Bren was doing in that bathroom-- he was focused on his own ritual, cast as delicately as any spell. A shadow of scent at his wrist, his own robe drawn over his shoulders. It did not even occur to him that Bren would ne doing anything else aside from washing up, and perhaps that is because for Essek Thelyss, sex was not precisely a priority.

It could become one, given time with his pet. But for right now he wandered to his bed so that he could gather underneath the covers, reaching for the book he had been reading and steadying it into a float in front of him.

In a way, Essek Thelyss was an innocent in such matters; that could work in Bren's favor. Or it could cause even a fair amount of guilt. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Oh the guilt would eat him alive, undoubtedly, knowing that he had jerked himself off in secret with thoughts of his master playing across his mind. He definitely had not had permission for this, but gods did his body need to the release. It did not take long, eyes shut, hand wrapped tightly around himself before he was spilling over his fingers, a silent whimper, breath catching in a quiet pant, the single call of 'Master...' shaped by silent lips.

He was still panting softly in the next moment, a sense of shame at himself starting to rise. He forced that aside for the moment in favor of focusing on cleaning up any evidence, and cleaning up in general for bed. He pulled on the soft pants provided for sleeping, folding his clothes and eventually emerging back into the bed chamber.

If his face was flushed, surely it was only from washing up, right?

That must be it.

He moved towards his pallet, picking up his notebook and looking to Essek. For a moment he considered confessing, but no, not now. The guilt would have to eat at him first. Instead he wrote a request, looking to Essek to see if he could catch his attention, and if he did he'd offer out the book.]

'If I may ask... I could use a razor, or I will become very scruffy very quickly.'

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek looked up from his reading once the door opened, his eyes followed the padding of feet on floor and then Bren stood there awkwardly and made his requesf in his book, he took the book as it was offered and then he looked at Bren then back at the book.

It was with a rather demure cough that did he respond, perhaps it was because he was gauging exactly the level of trim. ]

Your facial hair pleases me however it would not be averse to neaten it up. [ he leaned forward and then patted the spot on the bed beside him, an invitation for Bren to come up to be inspected. ] Up, I will figure out the best way to groom you, and I will do this tomorrow while we prepare for the event we are to go to--

[ there was a rueful chagrin to Essek's voice ] it will also allow me to go over a few ground rules with you on proper public behavior, yes.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren looked faintly surprised at the comment about his facial hair? Essek likes it. He'd have thought it would be the opposite, given that drow did not have facial hair much if at all. A faint pleased flicker of a smile, and he moved to join Essek on the bed, shifting to sit beside him carefully, tentatively.

He'd let himself be inspected. ...and wait, would Essek be the one to groom him? A blush bloomed across his cheeks and the freckled bridge of his nose at the thought of that.

So he focused instead on the other words, jotting down on the page,]

'I will behave. I won't be an embarrassment to you in public.'

[zauberdecke]

[ What was it about this man that made him want to touch him? His hand reached out to lightly stroke the skin offered to him, just the cheek where he could feel the shadow of bristles, his unseen servants had assumed he'd want him hairless-- but Essek was finding that nothing could be further from the truth.

This man was beautiful with hair that matched the shadows in his eyes-- it was a touch that would not be proper if it were a Dynasty citizen, but a Pet had no discernable rights and therefore no shame save for that which they felt individually. ]

Tomorrow morning, when I go through my morning rituals-- I will go through with you as well. You do not need to take care of your grooming, I will do that for you, you are my Pet and thus how you are percieved affects me.

[ no autonomous grooming there, Bren ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Not a moment of hesitation before Bren was leaning into that touch as if he could prolog it, could seek out more of it. He knew that Essek would catch on to how utterly starved for touch and anything even approximating affection was, and he wondered if his master would find it pathetic, some clear weakness in him. Maybe that was his own unkindest insecurities talking. It was difficult to say. The only shame that Bren had in the touch was how much he wanted it.

He nodded once more in agreement. He would leave that to Essek then, to let the drow manage his appearance as he pleased.

Except.

Now his hands twitched towards his book but then stopped, unsure if it was even allowed for him to ask, or if asking would provide a very clear insight into a weakness that could be leveraged against him. The next moment he seemed to overcome his uncertainty to take the chance, drawing his book close and writing simply,]

Please do not shave my hair off. He made us do that as children. It is a bad reminder.

[zauberdecke]

[ And yet, Essek did not mind it? He rather thought he had a obedient pet-- save for the going off course when he was undirected, but that just meant that Bren needed to be kept occupied at all times-- that could be arranged. He was rather good at schedules, he adhered to a rather precise one and that could dip toward his Pet as well.

Though when Bren started to write, Essek did not tell him that he could not. After all they were in private and he had promised he wouldn't take away the book in private unless he had something otherwise for Bren to do (or he was serving a punishment)-- when the tome was presented to him, he read over the words carefully.

And then processed what a individual Trent Ikithon could be. ]

Well, I can assure you, short hair is not the norm in Dynasty culture. While my own hair is kept short, I happen to think you are quite fetching with longer hair so I think that I shall keep it that way.

[ Essek then allowed his fingers to caress through the locks of hair. ] Normally touching the hair is rather taboo in Dynasty culture, however as you are my Pet and subservient to me, I do not feel guilty in the slightest with taking such liberties.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren watched, worrying at his bottom lip, still coming to figure out how this new dynamic would exist. He wanted to be good, wanted to be obedient and to please Essek. The drow was correct in that assessment, and the worst of Bren's disobedience would likely be born of the broken, self-loathing parts of himself than any deliberate willfulness. Especially if obedience came with more of those gentle touches through his hair.

He looked relieved at the answer, and further relieved with that caress, eyes falling heavy lidded for a moment, though this new piece of information was interesting. So hair was a significant thing, or at least the touching of it. Well, he was mindful of his place anyway, of the fact that touch was not something he was simply permitted, even if already there had been moments where his fingers had itched to reach out for his master.

Putting pen to paper once more, he added.]

'I like it.'