"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 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.'

[zauberdecke]

If you are a good boy, I can consider that an acceptable reward.

[ And yet here he was, stroking against Bren's hair-- feeling the way the liquid flames burnished underneath his fingertips, slipping through the crevices between. He hummed slightly, stroking it backward and catching the way the freckles seemed to glow underneath the dim light of the room.

He really was a pretty boy; objectively he thought-- even though it was more subjective deeper underneath the surface. Quite simply because most Dynasty members may not be draw to the Empire Pets unless the were classically beautiful, but Essek was not one who looked to the surface--

He hardly looked at all.

But there was something pleasing about his Bren, those intense intelligent eyes that also lingered sadness there. Oh, the eagerness to learn, he could find so much admiration in that. ]

Though perhaps those touches are not so much rewards for good behavior but rather encouragements to continue.

[ The Shadowhand would not consider himself kind, but gods he felt so for this Pet ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Another little shiver at good boy and he realized it was probably better off that he'd, ah, taken a certain problem in hand in the bathing room just before, because those words threaten to do things to him. H leaned into that touch through his hair, every bit the pet seeking to prolong the petting, to soak up all the scraps of affection that were offered -- though perhaps affection was too ambitious a word to put on it. Essek seemed at least vaguely pleased with him, and that would be more than enough.

There was that faint flicker of a smile on his lips, lips his muscles were still remembering how to make the expression after having not had any reason to for so long. The expression was soft and tinged with a sadness that Bren couldn't quite seem to banish, weighted down by the burdens of the monster he was, though some of that lightened at the thought of being able to fulfill this new purpose.]

I can be a good boy. I want to be good, for you.

[zauberdecke]

[ But that was yet another thing, another reason and excuse for Essek to pubish the ginger Pet, wasn't it? It would be a secret shame that Bren would harbor before he begged punishment for it; perhaps it would fester with each kind word spoken. No matter what, Essek would find himself quite happy to dole out that which his pet required, even if it was absolution for every single dirty thought.

He could feel himself start to hum, it was evident to Bren too. Essek's trance was nearing and that was one of the most telling cues to it. He took his hand lightly away from hair so that he could stroke the shadows of that jawline. ]

I think it is time that I seek my sleep, and you have a full day as well-- I intend on taking you on a walk through the gardens; your leash will arrive tomorrow-- and then afterwards to my work where you will sit at the side of my desk and be a good boy while I do my afternoon tasks; followed by dinner and a party.

[ That did not count the morning grooming that Essek had promised. ]

Will you be good and settle down on your pallet for me?

[ausgebrannt]

[The shame would eat at him. It was already eating at him if he were honest, but he was tired enough that it hadn't really had a chance to sink its fangs in as deep as it would when he truly had time to think about it. For now though, he certainly noticed that hum, and even though he was leaning a bit shamelessly into that touch at his jaw, he was also moving to back away, to slip from the bed and duck his head in a nod.

He gathered his notebook and pen carefully, mouthed a silent, 'Goodnight.' and did as he was told, retiring to the pallet that had been laid out for him at the foot of the drow's bed. Bren spared a moment to be sure his notebook and books were carefully piled and tucked out of the way before he allowed himself to settle, curling up and reaching to wrap himself in the blankets provided.

They were warm and unfairly soft, luxurious in a way that Bren was not used to at all. And worse yet, far worse, was that the scent of Essek was all through the room, stronger still in the linens. He let his eyes shut as he wrapped himself tighter and sank into it. Oh this too was a sin.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek watched Bren obediently get off the bed, with that silent goodnight that he could read so beautifully upon those lips. He graced his Pet with a smile and then he closed the book that he'd been reading and rested it on the bedside table; there was a brief shifting around on the bed before Essek assumed his favored position, the Lotus blossom.

And then he started to float, as his trance normally allowed him to do; just a few feet off the bed; it was concentration on his part but it was also that sort of concentration that meant that he would still be able to percieve exactly what it was that Bren was doing; so if he got up in the middle of the night-- Essek would at least comprehend.

Even if he did nothing about it.

Essek did not require as much sleep as Bren did so he would be up far earlier as well; he would have an early morning breakfast brought in by Unseen Servants, would read for two hours and then he would get himself presentable for the day. As he had directed, there would be no one barging in here that was not otherwise permitted.

When Bren woke up, the servants would bring breakfast instantly to him; quail eggs lightly tossed in a vinagrette, thin unlevened bread crisps and of course greens with goat cheeese and cranberries.

The same breakfast that Essek had partaken of. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren was exhausted enough that he did not move the whole night, and for once no nightmares woke him from his slumber. Perhaps it was the reassuring knowledge of Essek's presence, the soft and gentle hum that emanated from the trancing drow that kept the terrors at bay for the evening. Whatever it was, Bren was grateful when he opened his eyes and it was morning.

The first thing he noticed was Essek's being gone. But that made sense. Elves operated on different schedules, though Bren was faintly surprised that he'd been allowed to sleep in quite so much. Not that it was late by any stretch of the imagination, but once again it was a small piece of kindness, the allowance for his human needs.

Breakfast was a nicer meal than he could remember having outside his mother's cooking, and for a moment that nagging voice of self loathing and guilt raised its head. But after yesterday he was able to push it down, to assure himself that his master had deigned to give him this, and the more unforgivable option would be to turn it away. So he ate, if not with gusto, at least with appetite that outweighed the guilt for the time being.

Once he'd finished, he turned his attention to his journal, another Zemnian letter started to try to explain this, all of this, that he was still making sense of in his own mind.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek had things within the household to prepare, there were also deliveries of all of Bren's Pet 'Tack' and garments, that had been placed within the study room for preparation. Though perhaps ten minutes after Bren had completed his breakfast, Essek came in clad in his walking clothes which were quite nice all things considered.

Already ready for the day it seemed, holding a riding crop tucked in his hand-- perhaps it was the same one that he had used on Bren last night; perhaps just looking at it would bring to mind images of three precisely applied strikes to hind quarters. ]

Bwael kre'tan, Pet-- It appears that I did promise to groom you this morning.

[ He tilted his head to the side, because of course he did. ]

We should freshly bathe you, I think-- as well as sculpting your facial hair. [ He approaches even more carefully and then he reaches down to run his fingers through hair in a gesture that was starting to become a ritual of sorts; an expression of Bren being the very best puppy that one could desire. ] After that, we will dress you and fit you to your harness.. for our walk.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren's attention immediately snapped to Essek when the drow appeared, like he was snared in the inescapable gravity that surrounded the elegant man. He did emphatically not miss that riding crop, and it did bring back that memory -- vivid and crystal clear and replaying on loop in his mind before he shook himself out of those thought. It brought back another memory too, a more shameful one of the night before and he tried to banish that as well.

Then he found himself taking in his master's attire with probably a bit too much appreciation.

His mind was betraying him over and again this morning. Straightening up, finding his way to his knees properly, he mouthed a quiet, 'Good morning.' A little nod, pleased enough because yes, Essek had promised to groom him -- but then his eyes went a bit wide, heat rising across his cheeks. Bathe him? Surely Essek wouldn't involve himself with that, would he? Oh gods help him there went his traitorous thoughts again. They were derailed and then propelled all the further along into the realm of the improper by that gentle touch through his hair.

Still flushed, he looked down, nodding his agreement. A walk, yes. That would be nice.]