Torpor

Story by Valanx on SoFurry

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#4 of Attachment

Developments, both political and personal. Emirus, what are you doing? No-Yiff M/M subtext, kinkage, 5699 words.


Fourth chapter of Naked Diplomat Story (tm). This one's a bit longer than usual, almost twice my "normal" length of minimum 3000 words per installment. As a reminder, these are marked adult due to some of the "sexually charged" content, but there won't be any actual sexy stuff for several chapters yet.


Fortunately, we were able to make it through the rest of the day without any further embarrassment. Excepting, of course, two more trips to the bathroom. I was growing very displeased with the slight pitying expression I caught on Mohjir's face, each time I brought up the subject in stumbling sentence fragments. It made me angry, and the anger made it more difficult to get the words out.

The next day, too, was uneventful. I still had handcuffs on my wrists, which were chafing badly now, and my underside was outright inflamed. I finally became uncomfortable enough to mention the matter to Mohjir, and was thereafter annoyed I hadn't been bold enough earlier; he quickly procured cushions to place around the quarters on my various seating locations, which did wonders for my poor undertail and nearby organs that weren't meant to grind against wood or even firm upholstery all day.

I managed to put off committing to any meetings with councilors for those two days, but on my third morning since making landfall in Nendara, Mohjir's chiding became firmer, there were more letters, and I capitulated with limited grace. I did at least get his reluctant agreement to schedule the first meetings a few days out, with the excuse of "continuing to familiarize myself with Kletholan legal precedents". Which I was certainly doing; there were two hundred years of established case law to review, none of which I'd seen covered in any imperial sources. Hopefully, that span would be long enough to at least get the handcuffs off my wrists and ankles, if not manage to negotiate something to cover the considerable expanse of green-yellow scale occupying my lower field of vision.

Each day, Mohjir went to council twice. Each day, he returned reporting the 'matter of my attachment' had not been brought up in the interim, or had been 'inconclusive', which I understood after a few times was council-speak for an outright screaming match. And so, I kept my handcuffs on, and Mohjir kept mopping up after me in the bathroom, and I grew increasingly nervous about the inevitable juncture when I was going to have to tell him he would have to wash under my tail. At least he hadn't inquired; I don't know if he was aware my hydran metabolism was slower, or if he was simply too polite to voice any concern about my possible constipation, but I wasn't counting my blessings at this point. I didn't even want to think about it.

I did venture out of my room, twice. The first was to meet with Chieftain Shedus-Abew, who was able to give me a little more context about my situation, though most of what he said was wholly unhelpful and thus unimportant to relate. He brushed off my delicate expressions of irritation at any number of topics like so many flies; I got no concrete assurances on my chains, nor my possessions, nor my clothing, despite bringing up each in turn repeatedly. Instead, I got a lot of looks from his staff. I could imagine what it must be like, to see a naked foreigner in irons marching into your office; I imagined their families would hear all about how comical I looked that evening. If indeed lepuline families existed, as a hydran might imagine them.

The second excursion was a formal recognition by the full Council, which was at least very brief, but very tense. I noticed a number of interesting details, chief among them my escort: No fewer than twelve guards, all wearing what I recognized as clan Shedus colors, and all of whom seemed quite jumpy. Half the councilors in the room glared at me like I was on trial for war crimes, but very little was said. I did not have the opportunity to make a speech. Not that I figured I could have managed one, without at least my underpants. I was proud of myself for even managing to give the room a quick, frightened examination. Lots of clustered lepulines in clan colors, arrayed on tiers of benches around an oval dais, under a stone canopy pricked by thousands upon thousands of minute quartz windows, gleaming with sunlight. Lovely, to be sure... but not welcoming. If I had allies there, they were not concerned with my interests enough to act accordingly.

Each time, Mohjir accompanied me, led me through the corridors, and explained to me where we were and where we were going. Two guards accompanied us as well, at all times. Captain Morcef was one, both times, and was almost cordial to me, though a bit chilly. I apologized for addressing him by his title the first time we'd met, and he gave me the same perplexed look Mohjir was prone to, and told me to pay it no mind.

Four days after my arrival, Mohjir returned from his morning council visit. He was wearing black leather today, in a rather similar form to the loincloth and chest panel he'd been wearing the day I arrived, though he'd also mostly covered his thighs, likely for my comfort. I was seated at my desk, reviewing some notes he'd written and spread out for me, with frequent references to the sheet he'd drawn up with the Kletholan alphabet. There were initial and medial forms of all the letters, and I had a hard time keeping them straight, but I was beginning to approach a very slow literacy. His script was absolutely beautiful, very neat and clean and nigh-calligraphic; I did not tire of scrutinizing every letter. Training in the imperial scribal schools inclines one to such appreciation.

"Emirus, I have a... visitor, for you," he said, voice somewhat lower than his usual volume.

"What, today?" I yelped. "I thought..."

He shook his head impatiently. "Not a councilor, though I was approached three times for audiences; we must review the applicants later. Rather... I think I have found someone, to meet your particular needs in council. Someone you can trust, someone interested in your cause." He hesitated. "Do you... wish to meet him? He is waiting outside."

I blinked, surprised, and felt a surge of nervousness at the idea of allowing yet another lepuline to see my genitals. But, then, I did desperately need a better sense of what was going on in council, and my relative inability to cover myself was, regrettably, a matter of council business. If I wanted to make any sort of progress in this morass, I had to begin acting... but it was far easier to make such resolutions in an idle moment. "M-must I attend him quite now?" I inquired, trying not to sound too panicked.

Mohjir was perceptive, I was learning, and today was no exception. "If you wish, I can warn him that you are not yet used to our traditions," he said delicately.

"Do so. Discreetly." I muttered, trying to control my embarrassment. "And then bring him in."

Mohjir left, and returned a moment later with another lepuline. The newcomer was more slender than Mohjir, and slightly taller, but with a more fragile build; he was wearing only a light tan loincloth. His fur was darker and thinner, a deep chestnut-tinged black, coarser than Mohjir's, shorter. His eyes were smaller, but sharp and bright; they were gold. "Greetings, Emirus," he said, and didn't give me the eye-swipe Mohjir was prone to. "I am Lenthi, of clan Vannor."

I shoved off my discomfort at having a complete stranger use my personal name; it didn't matter, I tried to remind myself. "Pleased to meet you," I said diplomatically, perhaps a bit stiff. I would have been more pleased to meet him with my pants on.

"Lenthi is a longtime acquaintance of mine," Mohjir said. "He was the first individual I could call 'friend', in the capital, and because of this I trust him, for he knew me long before I could be considered to have connections to anyone of authority. He is a junior retainer with the delegation of clan Nammi, and it is thus rather his job to spend all his time in council."

"I understand you are interested in council proceedings," Lenthi said, a conspiratorial smile playing on his face.

I decided right about then, that Lenthi was someone to be wary of. Mohjir might have trusted him, but I did not. He had the smell of someone looking for something to be involved in, without caring too much what it was.

"Is it typical for a member of clan Vannor to serve as retainer for clan Nammi?" I inquired placidly.

"Not typical, perhaps, but as clan Nammi is the second-largest clan in the Federation, their political interests frequently affect other clans within the southeastern sphere of influence," Lenthi said. "My position within their delegation serves as a... gesture of goodwill. From both sides."

"You are not unaccustomed to managing information streams between multiple parties," I judged.

"Just so." He grinned widely, crooked teeth gleaming.

Hm. On the other paw, perhaps I'd been fortunate; a proper spy was rare to simply stumble across. I didn't know if what Lenthi did constituted espionage, in the strictest sense, but I was certain he was not going to bungle my task for him, reveal my interests to the wrong people. At least, not by accident. It would be wise to keep him guessing as to my long-term plans, but that was common sense. "Excellent." I offered him a smile, accepting, for the moment, that for him to prove his loyalty, I would have to give him the opportunity. "I would be most interested at the moment, as you might imagine, in the details of any discussions of my attachment status. Or mention of anything imperial, in any capacity. Further topics will arise as I become more... situated."

I shifted uncomfortably atop my cushion; my shoulders were aching on account of having my arms forced backward at all times. It felt like my muscles were fraying under the strain. What I would give for an imperial masseuse. I wondered idly if I could get Mohjir to oblige me; he was my personal attendant, after all. Not that I particularly wanted him touching me in my current state. Perhaps I might have taken my shirt off, to receive a massage, but beginning without a shirt (or anything else) rather put a damper on the whole experience, at least in my mind.

"If your information proves useful to me, there will be something in it for you. If information about my interests finds its way into the wrong paws, there will also be something in it for you." I exercised my best threatening tone on the last bit, and was pleased to watch Lenthi's smug expression flatten out slightly. It was all about portraying that clear and obvious assumption that it was well within your power to make someone disappear, whether that was true or not. "Can you report on these matters for me with regularity?"

"Certainly," he said smoothly.

"Good. Are you able to ensure you are not seen going to and from my quarters?"

"Ah, that will be trickier," he replied. "On occasion, yes. Not 'with regularity'."

"That will do for the moment. Let caution trump frequency."

"I can assist with ensuring you are not seen together, and relaying some information." Mohjir said. "And with general... scheduling."

"Do so; better I do not know when we will meet," I directed. "Thank you, Lenthi. I would normally offer you a token of my goodwill, but my assets have been impounded, as I'm certain you're aware. Rest assured your loyalty in this early time, if it manifests, will not be forgotten."

"And thank you, Emirus."

"I hope to hear from you soon."

Mohjir led him out, and was back within minutes. "You're certain I can trust him?" I asked, reminding myself that I could not indeed trust Mohjir himself.

"Absolutely. I have no doubts about him whatsoever," my attendant said firmly, and I was convinced, at least, that he believed what he was saying.

We attended to business matters thereafter. I reluctantly dictated more audience allowances. Mohjir resumed his lecture on historic diplomatic quarrels between the various clans, which was fascinating to me, but which he enumerated with dutiful boredom. I stopped him regularly to ask further questions about each side's motivations; only rarely did he have to note the topics down for further research. He was certainly a wealth of knowledge; I was impressed by his ability to retain and recall specifics.

We had dinner. I used the bathroom. He cleaned me up. Then he sat with me beside the fire, and helped me with reading one of the legal doctrines on my bookshelf. Having the tome in my lap was about the first time I'd had something covering me, besides my blankets at night, since I arrived. Though it did feel rather odd, to find my male organs rubbing against the leather cover. Paws bound behind my back, sitting stiffly planted on my undertail. The farce of it all was humiliating.

Oh, if the Emperor could see me now.

Not finding myself in the best mood, I decided to go to bed. He put the book away, and went to tidy up the kitchen from dinner. I went to my bedroom, and stood by the window, self-consciously aside of it. It was dark beyond, naturally, but the stars here were bright, both in the sky and down across the city, tiny torches flickering and glinting up at me from away by the port. I fancied I could see my ship in the harbor, wine-silk sails furled, crew no doubt itching to be on their way back home. Trapped.

I felt trapped, too. I was crawling all over with frustration. This was ridiculous.

Mohjir came into the room, and I turned to face him. His green eyes slid from my face down to my chest, then my hips, and that familiar twang of annoyance finally propelled its way into speech. "Why do you do that?" I asked testily.

"What now, Emirus?" he inquired, tone surprised.

"You... look me over, like that. It's very rude." I huffed a little, turning partly aside, not that it really mattered. It did make me feel a little bit better, I guess.

"I... I am sorry, Emirus," he replied, seeming quite taken aback; he moved closer with a few halting steps. "I can... I can see how that would disturb you. I will try not to do it."

"It's not just you, it's everyone. Captain Morcef, Chieftain Shedus-Abew, you all stare, you're not even subtle about it. I don't want you to be able to see down there," I said, jerking my head. "Just putting up with this situation is difficult for me, when I'm all by myself. Having you stare at me doesn't help."

"No, it does not," he said, sounding ashamed.

Ranting at him was making me feel better, so I continued. "I'm sure I look pretty strange to your kind, but that's not an excuse to treat me like an exhibit."

He hesitated. "Well, no," he said, but it was the wrong tone for him to be agreeing with me.

I looked at him sharply. "What?"

"You do not look... strange," he said quietly.

This time, my voice was more quizzical, bewildered. "What?"

"I find myself looking at you, as I do, because to my kind, you are very beautiful," Mohjir admitted slowly. "That does not make it right, but it is not a look of... puzzlement."

I blinked. "B-beautiful?" I stammered. That hit me like a door to the snout.

"In a way, yes. Not in the manner of a beautiful lepuline, to be sure... But in a sleeker, smoother sort of form, a kind of beauty which never manifests in my race. In the manner of... blown glass, if you are familiar with that artform, or perhaps your fine imperial porcelain. It is difficult... not to stare. Few of us have ever seen something like you."

"Who are you, to speak for the rest of your kind?" I sputtered, face uncomfortably warm. Beautiful?!

"I..." He ducked his head. "...have... discussed the matter. With several others. Morcef, Lenthi, Holsfir-Nigor. Enough to be certain I am not alone in my opinions. It is... the first thing everyone notices about you, what a remarkable creature you are."

"Creature? Remarkable? You spoke of my appearance with others?" I expelled, affronted. "Mohjir, every lepuline who's looked at me since my arrival has been invading my privacy, against my will. Yourself included! I don't think that's an appropriate topic for casual conversation."

"Of course not," he mumbled, to my feet. "I did not mean to... contribute, I merely... It... it comes up. Everyone notices, everyone is... Astounded... I do not wish this, this situation on you, of course I do not, but I cannot help what I see, and feel, when I look at you. The reaction is uncontrollable. It is wrong, to look at you that way, and I am sorry, and I will try to... to do a better job of respecting your privacy."

Something about his wording clicked a switch over in my head. Feel? Reaction? "I... wait, wait, hold on," I said, turning back to face him in spite of myself. "What sort of feelings are you referring to?"

"I... I am not certain I take your meaning -- "

"Mohjir, you're not... you're not attracted to me, are you? Your kind, all of you?!"

He jerked his head up. "N-not attracted, no! I only meant..." His cheeks were flushing, his fur tufting up, and I found my unsettled shock manifesting as laughter, a slow, inexorable giggle. "I meant that you are appealing, in an aesthetic sense, you are beautiful... artistically speaking. Not... not attractive. In... in that manner."

"A sexual manner."

I'd never seen him so flustered. "Th-that. No. That, that is, the thing, which is what I did not intend." He was fidgeting openly now. "R-regardless, we are both, that, that is to say, neither of us is female, so it could not occur..."

"You spoke of having an uncontrollable reaction to me," I began, dubiously, not sure I believed him. "You speak as though you've discussed this at length, with most of the capital. If this continuing imprisonment is some sort of... some sort of deviant sex slavery, I -- "

"Emirus, please!" he said, cutting me off, and then his voice grew quiet. "This... situation... is not something that you want. It is difficult for you, it makes you feel humiliated. Please consider that... that it is also not, not something that I want, and I wish that it could be resolved quickly, so that you could feel comfortable again, and so that I would not have to tread so carefully around you and try so hard not to say or do the wrong thing. I truly wish to treat you well and earn your trust, and it is much harder to do so when we must begin this way, with you so uncomfortable, but I am trying. And yes, it is difficult for me not to look at you in a certain fashion, because looking at you is... enrapturing, but I know it is not right, and that you do not like it, and I am sorry for doing it, and I will try to stop."

His flood of words halted abruptly, and he stood there at the foot of my bed, staring at the floor. I felt... somewhat foolish, generally embarrassed, and extremely naked. But also... Just sort of... bad. I felt like I'd hurt him. Been harsher than I should have, perhaps, twisted the knife after he'd already apologized several times. There's a point at which a situation can be kept from escalating, where it becomes possible to stop what has started... I'd slid well past that in my surprise.

I sighed. I couldn't help it. I was a mess, a big ball of shame and spitefulness. "I understand, Mohjir," I replied. "Thank you. I... appreciate how hard you are working at this. I know it cannot be anything like your previous assignments."

"No," he said. "It is nothing like them. Nothing." He paused, took a breath, and then said more normally, "I only wish I were better able to show you, that I do not intend to... contribute, in any way, to your discomfort. Truly, I do not. It pains me to see you so distraught, for you seem a good man, an honest man, a man who does not deserve to be shamed. I would do anything to make you feel in any regard better about this situation, I would do anything. I am trying to do everything I can."

I flashed back to how he'd made me breakfast the very first morning (and continued every morning since), how he chose foods suited to my imperial palate, how he dressed in a way I wouldn't find unsettling, how he truly... managed the bathroom situation, as delicately and kindly as he could. I believed him about that, at least. He was trying to earn my trust, whether for some device or simply because he wished to be pleasant to me. And I felt worse, for suspecting any ulterior motive, at this point. The least I could do was give him the benefit of the doubt... maybe not his government, but at least, at least, him. Even if he had been told to befriend me, to be kind to me... he was, I could not help but believe, earnestly interested in doing so, for his own reasons.

And my bitter frustration would only drive him away. The one person attempting to make my life less miserable. None of the councilors seemed to care; Shedus-Abew seemed content to let me wait until they were good and ready to unchain me. If I wanted Mohjir to be my ally, my friend, I had to do more than just manage my anger. I had to engage him. Show him that he was having an impact... that I did trust him, at least more than anyone else here.

"Well..." I hesitated, toying with the idea with some trepidation. Trust was easier imagined than created, perhaps. Action was easier conceived in idle moments. "If you wish to make me feel better... I do have a... request... of sorts," I offered, hesitantly. "Though I am... not sure if it is appropriate."

He cast me a quick, furtive glance, carefully avoiding looking anywhere but my face.

"I... I was not intending to ask, but..." I was babbling. "Having... having my arms bound this way is... moderately painful, after so long. In my shoulders, and down my upper back. It is... one thing contributing to my sour mood, among many, but it is one thing." I cleared my throat. "Do you think you would... be amenable to... a massage?" I asked, with a sheepish chuckle. "If, if that isn't... too odd of a request."

He was still for a moment, and then his face lit up; he stumbled over his words. "Oh, n-no! I can certainly, I can absolutely, that is not an odd request at all, it is within the realm of my duties... Would, would you be comfortable if I were to, I did not think it would be wise to suggest something so..."

"I mean... no, I'm not really comfortable with it," I muttered. "I'm not comfortable with anything right now. But just continuing to suffer like this doesn't seem very appealing either, if you understand. I would prefer to do something to improve my quality of life, even if it is something small."

"Of, of course." He inhaled. "I will try not to, ah, make things worse. Perhaps... perhaps you would like to sit down?"

I went to the edge of my bed, and took a seat upon it, facing the window. He quickly hopped up onto the mattress behind me, his knees resting on either side of my tail. His paws touched my shoulderblades, and I felt immediately that they were trembling, badly.

It took a few minutes for both of us to get into it. Before that it was just awkward, myself squirming and flinching when he moved in certain ways, him clearly perplexed by some of the intricacies of my musculature. Hydrans have much narrower and frailer shoulders and a more cylindrical build than lepulines, with entirely different ratios of everything to everything. I don't think he was expecting my scales to be as tough as they are, either.

"You'll have to be a little firmer than that," I said, "if you want me to feel anything."

"Yes, Emirus," he agreed, and did so.

Several moments after that, we began to get somewhere. I leaned back into his paws as the digits pressed down my lower neck (he'd quickly learned not to go against the grain of my scales, which were rougher-edged than they looked). My eyes lidded, and then slowly slid shut; I inhaled on a firm squeeze, and exhaled slowly. There were distinct pain points right at the corner of my neck and shoulders, and lower down, diagonally across my shoulderblades; he found these perhaps by my stiffening when his touch neared each, and bore down. I grunted.

"Too much?" he asked, easing back.

"Not enough," I chuckled. "A while more like -- enggh -- like that, right there."

I... slid, is the best way to describe it. I slipped out of time, after that, out of my shackles, out of house-arrest. I felt the sense of myself, that was all, myself as I'd always been, as I'd been in the imperial court, with an imperial physician ministering to me, or in Celaya, in the houses of pleasure. I remembered that I was an imperial ambassador, not some scared and miserable delinquent locked up in a cell, subject to the whims of his captors. But more than that... I remembered that I was me, Honorius Emirus. It was difficult to quantify the manner in which I'd forgotten that... yet I had. It had been... not beaten from me, but wrung. Drawn out by the imposed role of humiliated imprisonment, even as I fought against that. This environment was so new, and strange, and frightening, that I had taken to relying on moment-to-moment instinct, rather than my experience and beliefs. About governments, people, and otherwise.

It was good to think. I hadn't done enough thinking, lately.

I realized after some time that I was more at Mohjir's mercy than I had perhaps intended to place myself. It would be laughably easy to put a knife between my ribs, from this range, I would have even less of a chance of resisting than my normal shackled-prisoner state. But then, he hadn't done that yet, had he? And what would he gain, by doing so? Unless he or his masters wished to start a war with the Empire (though it was perhaps a bit romantic to think the Emperor would go to war over me, after the disaster that was my career), in which case there were certainly easier and more dramatic ways, say torching my ship, ideally while I'd still been on it days before. Imperial coursers were expensive, even if the diplomats on them were disgraced.

Here I was, mistrusting him again. It did not become me. I was cautious, yes, but I was not paranoid, I reminded myself. I trusted those who served me well and predictably, and Mohjir had done nothing else, dedicated to precisely his stated goals with no hints of subtext.

Well, except perhaps that bit about 'uncontrollable reactions'.

I wondered what he'd meant by that. If not a sexual response, then what? I wasn't sure how I felt about the prospect of being considered 'beautiful' by any lepuline; perhaps Mohjir did not mean it in that way, but if what he said were true, surely for some others, such a feeling must spill over? One does not simply use the word 'beautiful'... Or was I applying imperial connotation to a Kletholan word with a different emotional context?

I didn't think so. I knew that word. I knew its context. Mohjir certainly hadn't questioned when I jumped to the sexual conclusion, either.

Certainly, I'd had had no intention of being celibate, once I arrived in the Federation; in imperial politics, one becomes accustomed to indulging one's desires regularly. And I had realized, had considered, that hydrans were far rarer here than in any other city I'd dwelt in; I'd expected myself and my guards would be the only ones. It would not be the first time I had mated outside my own species. Lepulines were... perhaps less to my taste, truth be told, but I'd kept my mind open to the idea as I considered it on the sea voyage. One didn't enjoy oneself by sitting out new experiences, did one?

Being stripped naked and rendered helpless the moment I arrived had rather quenched my sex drive, however. And the species-wide, breathless idolatry Mohjir had implied was rather a turnoff, at least for me. I prefer more personal, more egalitarian appreciation. Coupled with the chance to reveal myself to someone who wasn't already intimately familiar with my body.

Still, I could hardly rely on my paws for the next few years, could I?

Hells, at the moment I couldn't even rely on those. It had been four, nearly five days since I stepped off my ship, I realized. I couldn't remember the last time I went more than a couple without attention from someone, even if it was only myself. That golden-scaled deckhand I'd been familiar with aboard ship was more than appealing, in my mind's eye.

Yet, here I was, naked and receiving a massage from my attendant, who I didn't particularly want to further humiliate myself in front of by becoming aroused. I tamped down on my thoughts and rolled my shoulders under his paws; my eyes slid open.

"That's sufficient for now," I said, and surprised myself with how smoothly my voice purred. "I feel... much, much better. Thank you, Mohjir."

I heard a smile in his voice. "I am glad to be of service, Emirus."

I twitched, and nearly corrected him again... before I realized, the feeling of hearing my personal name had become less objectionable, at least from his mouth. He had a way of saying it, a rolling, rounded pronunciation, with a sharp, long i and low e. I had no doubt the nuances of imperial names were lost on the Kletholans, who didn't even have proper family names (considering their clan names tied them to a much larger group than a family), but I wasn't sure now that the formal distance of my public name was what I wanted, coming from Mohjir.

Perhaps if he'd understood it, he would have chosen to speak in the same manner, regardless. I didn't doubt that, after all he'd done for me. An imperial citizen would never be so presumptuous, but I could easily imagine a lepuline, with their strangely respectful and equal standard of personal relations, yet high tolerance for dismissive and unapologetic dialogue, trying to influence my mental characterization of him by using particular patterns of speech. They would expect it to be tolerated out of politeness, and at worst coldly ignored.

"You seem quite talented with your paws," I said, still re-shuffling my shoulders. "Though not in the manner of any imperial physician. I suppose you were trained in some school of physiology among your kind?"

"Less a formal school, and more a tradition, a heritage. It is expected for an attendant such as myself to be good at many things, particularly relating to the comfort and health of the attended. All attendants are able to address such minor complaints." I heard his smile again. "Though, were you a lepuline, I would far more likely be massaging your ears and forehead, than your back."

"My current pain is not familiar to me, I assure you," I replied, turning halfway to face him. He was kneeling there on my bed, dark gray fur gleaming in the lanternlight, his ears cast back behind him like two slender fronds from some exotic plant. "Is it common to have headaches among your kind?"

"Unfortunately," he said. "Particularly when the seasons change. Many of us are sensitive to the air pressure, or the pollen, or both, in the sinuses and such." He paused. "It is rare that it bothers me to any great degree, however, it seems less common in us northwesterners."

"That is fortunate." I stood. "I suppose I will retire now."

"Absolutely, Emirus." He slid off my bed, and pulled the blanket back, so it would be easier for me to worm my way under it.

"I... apologize for my behavior earlier," I said, standing facing him. "It did not become me, and it did not honor you. You have been nothing but kind to me, and you deserve more patience than I fear I can give some days."

He gave me the look again. I was beginning to like that look. "I... forgive you, Emirus," he said, seeming unused to the words. "Of course I forgive you."

I gave him a small smile, and he smiled back. His eyes had remained above my neckline the whole time; he was being very careful about that now.

"Good night, Mohjir."

"And to you," he said, with a short dip of the head, before seeing his way out.


Emotional struggles, yo. They're tasty.

Chapter 5 will be up in 2 weeks.