A Star at Night

[Quio]

60th of Vhalar, Arc 716
splinter thread

Quio stumbled his way away from the Krome, his heartstone thudding post-haste in his chest. It had only been a conversation. He reminded himself he could do conversation. Yet his heart refused to heed him.

Now, taking a deep breath, he threaded his way back through the crowd to find Hart. But when he finally did find him it appeared the other was busy. He was dancing quite clumsily with one of the giggling women Quio had seen him with earlier, and though the seaborn should have been making a fool of himself... the lady seemed rather charmed, not offended by his inability. How Hart did that, the Yludih didn't know.

Quio could have interrupted them, but instead he merely snatched a drink from the nearest person's hand --"Excuse me!" the man harrumphed, apparently it had been one of the guests not a servant-- and drink in tow he quickly retreated from the main room, pacing until he found a place a little more quiet and cozy. He barely glanced around the room he'd come to before collapsing onto the nearest sofa. Dramatic, he knew, but nonetheless he downed the drink in one and then stared down at his hands, wondering what the hell he was going to do with the empty glass.

"Parties suck," the Yludih mumbled, and then noticed for the first time that he wasn't alone. His stone heart nearly leapt out of his chest again. "T-Though I didn't mean any offense," he stammered, then gave up and slouched further into the sofa like a pouting child.

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tristan Venora]

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private“, Tristan whispered in Faith’s ear as he leaned closer to her and grinned mischievously. He had enjoyed the shocked look on the faces of all those stuck-up nobles (and the few guests that were neither noble nor stuck-up) when he had entered the ballroom in the company of a slave, but now he really needed a break from all the socializing and pretending that he was just like them! He also quite liked the idea of getting a little closer to Faith in a place where he really shouldn’t do such a thing (the consequences of being discovered would be quite disastrous!).

“I need to relax for a bit”, he informed her. “My face hurts from smiling at those terrible people so much.” It was just then that a servant walked past them, carrying a tray full of glasses of red wine. Tristan grabbed one of them, ignoring the man’s disapproving look and took a sip before he turned back to Faith. “Don’t you want to take those shoes off for a bit?” He gestured at the fashionable high heels that she was wearing. “We can come back here later if you want and dance together”, he let her know and gallantly offered her his arm, as if they were a lord and a lady attending an important event together and not just a master and his slave.

He quickly found an empty room and sat down on the sofa, gesturing for Faith to do the same. It was just then that a very familiar man stumbled into the room and collapsed onto the sofa next to him. Tristan’s eyes widened. He watched the false Biqaj for a moment with a somewhat bemused expression on his face – he wasn’t mad that he had been interrupted, this here might be almost as entertaining – before he informed him, “No, they don’t. Parties are fun because you get free food and alcohol. So …” He paused for a moment for dramatic effect and looked at him intently. “Since when are you a Krome, Ruq? Are you a bastard as well, like Hart? I quite enjoyed when he walked in and pretended to be me, by the way. There can never be enough Tristan Venoras.”

[Faith Augustin]

During the party

Faith looked at Tristan and she carefully allowed her lips to lift in a slow smile, turning to look up at him from beneath her lashes, an almost shy expression on her face. He was intrigued and intoxicated by the thought of just how scandalously he was behaving and Faith knew that it was bringing him an inordinate amount of pleasure. "Of course, Master", she whispered back to him before adding, "Although, I don't think anywhere here is entirely private, you know". It was what he wanted to feel, that thrill of danger and so she added the second part to add to his enjyoment of the situation.

But as he sipped his wine, she glanced down at the shoes which he spoke of and she lifted her skirts just a little to reveal them. She had to admit, they made her legs look good, but there was a fundamental truth which she had to acknowledge to him. "Once I take them off, Master, the blood will rush back to my toes and I will be unable to put them back on", there was no doubting it, they were a more effective torture device than almost any she had encountered and she considered herself something of an expert. But just in case that concerned him, she added with a quiet and impish voice "I hope that however you wish to relax, that will not be hampered by my shoes?" She was trying to make sure that he was feeling a thrill of anticipation at whatever it was that he had already decided he was going to do and, knowing her owner, that was as likely to be playing a game of whist with Aunty Edna as it was to be getting amorous in a closed room. Life was in a state of constant change when one was owned by Tristan Venora, after all.

She blushed though, when he offered her his arm and she took it gladly. Not least because it was a chance to not put all her weight on her feet. But it was a gallant gesture and, though she was sure that he did it because of the scandal that it would cause, it was her pleasure to play the part he wished her to, albeit it was not the part that it might seem to be. She was quiet as she walked with him and when he chose a room she joined him, closed the door behind them and then moved to sit on the couch next to him as instructed. She was sitting, hands folded in her lap and had just turned to speak to him when the door burst open and in walked Ruq in what could only be described as a child-like strop.

Complete with huffing and puffing, flinging himself on the sofa and drinking a glass of wine in a single gulp, the man they knew leant back into the sofa and pouted. There was no other word for it. As always, Master was quick to speak and to offer words of encouragement, explaining why parties did not 'suck' and then he leaned forward intently and asked a very pertinent question. If Ruq was a Krome, that meant that he was a noble and he was part of the whole shenanigans which had gone on recently, in some way. Also, he was related to Malcolm and Lord Krome who had held Lady Elyna hostage. Was he the man that they believed he was, fundamentally a good one? Faith wondered and then said nothing, keeping her hands folded in her lap and waiting to see what Ruq's response to Master's questions would be.

And she realised that she had lost all feeling in her toes.

[Quio]

OOC: I'm pretty sure(?) Elyna wanted us to play for a while before she came in, so I thought I'd respond. Omg guys Quio is losing it.

Tristan and Faith. At least the unexpected encounter was with people he knew.

He looked over at them, heart still hammering while his mind considered, and then outright decided he wasn't done with his fit. If anything, now he slouched further, crossing his arms grumpily. "Speaking of alcohol, you gonna drink that?" he asked Tristan, eyeing the other's glass of wine.

Honestly he knew he was supposed to be all tortured for what he had done on the ship, what he had done to the two of them specifically --which they still didn't seem to acknowledge had been him and not some other beast-- but tonight he just wasn't feeling it. For a long time he hadn't been feeling like himself. Apparently now it was culminating.

"Oh great," he muttered, when Tristan began to question him.

By rote he opened his mouth to organize a well-considered lie, then, feeling cross, he forewent it and said, scowling, "Why do you think I act the way I do around you guys? Why I'm so uptight? I'm always pretending. But tonight I say to hell with it all." He stuck out his hand as if to shake, first Tristan, who was closer, then Faith. "The name's Iaan Krome. Swell to meet you."

"Are you a bastard as well, like Hart?"

Quio snorted at that. "Pff. Of course I am, don't you know we bastards all know each other? There's a meeting every other Tuesday. We have a secret handshake and our own organization. We get together to drink and complain and burn effigies of our absentee fathers, cursing our hollow last names. I personally write a newsletter twice a season that goes out to bastards all over the world. Boy, but it is great fun to be the anathema of your family."

He paused there and then, as if the tirade that had just come spilling out of his mouth had only now caught up to his ears, he grimaced. If Tristan had forked over his own wine, the Yludih would take a large gulp of that before admitting bitterly, "So you may not have noticed, but I might be somewhat stupidly drunk. It rarely happens, but when it happens, it happens."

Lies upon lies, but he was what he was, and what he was was a liar. He was aware that what he was doing was 'acting out' or perhaps worse, 'having a meltdown'; he knew, too, that he would regret it later-- at the very least he would be mortified by his behavior. Regardless, he plunged further.

"It's all worthless, you know that? I'd rather be Ruq Qy'ihadi, a dirt-poor sailor with naught but his ship and his clothes, than Iaan Krome, bastard lawyer for whom people have--" he twisted his mouth, "--expectations." He rolled his head to squint over at them. "Don't you ever grow tired of people expecting you to be something that you're not?"

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tristan Venora]

“Oh no“, Tristan quickly assured her. “You don’t absolutely need to take your shoes off. In fact it might be more interesting if you keep them on!” He said nothing to her statement that she might not be able to put the shoes on again once she took them off, although he did look slightly apologetic and embarrassed – for all of a trill. Tristan Venora was not an expert when it came to women’s shoes. In fact he knew nearly nothing about them – apart from the fact that those shoes looked really good on her!

---

Unlike Faith he didn’t think about all the possible implications of Ruq being a noble –or at least the bastard of one and that he might be keeping more things than just the circumstances of his birth from them. He just thought that it was rather funny that Ruq and his boyfriend had that in common. Who knew, maybe some of his other acquaintances were secretly of noble birth as well? What if Faith was secretly Cassander’s lost sister?

He pondered that question for a moment, laughing inwardly because it was just too ludicrous, but his thoughts were interrupted as Ruq asked about his drink. Or Iaan. He wasn’t sure wat exactly the man’s name was at the moment which was bothered him slightly. He looked at his glass and frowned because he was reluctant to part with it, but then he decided that the fake Biqaj might need it more.

“Go ahead”, he told him generously. “I’ll get myself another glass later on.” He handed it to him, although he did wonder if that one glass would be enough to get him drunk. Hadn’t Hart said something about Ruq having a surprisingly high tolerance for alcohol once?

“Lord Krome”, he murmured and shook Ruq’s – no Iaan’s – hand somewhat confusedly before he smiled. He had just realized something. If both Hart and his boyfriend were nobles – well, half-nobles, he corrected himself – he would be able to take them to all those fancy parties, and nobody would be able to complain (too much). Maybe he’d invite Iaan to one of Grandmother Ebony’s dinner parties, ask Hart to come along and confront her with the bastard she had tried to get rid of! He had wanted to do that for a long time.

“Really? There are secret bastard meetings and newsletters?” he asked, and his eyes lit up as that sounded fairly exciting. “Can I come? I could pretend to be a bastard as well. I could just claim that I’m my own bastard brother. Nobody can tell the difference between Hart and me anyway.” It was just then that he realized, somewhat belatedly, that Iaan-Ruq might have been joking, and he let out a deep sigh because he had really wanted to attend a bastard meeting!

Apparently, he observed as he noticed how the other man downed the wine, Ruq was already drunk, and Hart had thus been lying. Either that or Ruq was lying about being drunk which didn’t make much sense. Although, come to think of it, he had done exactly the same once and pretended to be King Cassander on top of it and paid for drinks for all of the people in the Blacksmith Arms.

He shook his head because Ruq’s behaviour was just a little confusing – although his own behaviour was probably often just as confusing. “All the time”, he replied as Ruq asked him if he ever got tired of people’s expectations. “That’s why I try to defy them on purpose. Do you remember that statue of Lord Andaris I made? Or that painting that is basically pig footprints on canvas? I do that to mess with them. Of course I also do it because I love being inappropriate. But anyway, don’t take the things that other people say to heart. Being Iaan Krome can be fun as well. He can go to places that Ruq can’t! Why, you might even be allowed in King Cassander’s castle!”

[Faith Augustin]

During the party

If she had been allowed it, Faith would have quite significant and vocal opinions of Ruq, but she knew that it was not her place to. However, when he took Master's wine, she was not at all amused or impressed. She stood and moved over to where there was a drinks cabinet in the corner and she opened it, poured two glasses of wine and brought them back. One for Master, which she gave to him first with a low curtsy and then she placed the other one in front of Ruq, also with a curtsy, but this one not so low.

As she sat back down, she listened to the tirade which came out of Ruq's mouth and then Master's response to it. Faith felt a surge of anger at the man sitting opposite them. How dare he spout such nonsense and speak to her Master in such a way? She looked at him and then Master answered and he believed him. The deep sigh which emanated from Master only served to fuel her emotions and she felt like she might burst. Ruq was behaving abysmally, and Faith sat, back straight and hands clasped in her lap as she tried her very best to keep her emotions in check.

Just lately, Faith had thought about freedom in a way that she never would have imagined previously. She had considered what it might be like to be free, how she might serve better if she were free and all sorts of things had gone through her mind. But that notwithstanding, there was no doubt in her head that she owed Tristan Venora an enormous debt of gratitude. He had taken her in, treated her like a person and if, even for a moment, she believed that she might one trial be able to be free, it was because of him and his care for her. His concern for her. His heart and his soul and the beautiful, frustrating, wonderful, irritating, caring, selfish, selfless man that he was.

And this asshole was lying to him? Sulking and pouting and lying to him and taking his wine?

Faith lifted her head and she spoke in soft tones, her fingers twisting together slightly as she spoke "You are upset, Mister Ruq, and I am sorry for that. But I would suggest that you are upset because you are unhappy at being alone" she paused and then continued, almost rushing head-on to it as the words tumbled from her mouth, freed from the restraint that she had tried to show. "And if you are alone, then perhaps it is because you lie to those who help you. Who have been kind to you and who want to be your friend. Perhaps it would be beneficial were you to start again and just tell the truth?" There was no accusation in her voice, she seemed outwardly very calm but the muscle in her cheek which was jumping was a sure sign, as was the fact that her fingers twisted together.

[Quio]

The reactions he got were very different, Tristan indulgent, while Faith... Faith seemed pissed. For a moment Quio considered --actually considered-- doing something very unkind in response, and though he had no idea what it was he might do, the thought leapt up in his mind... and then immediately a rush of self-loathing smothered it. The wine Faith had offered him nearly slipped out of his hand, and so he held the glass carefully with both, not wanting to drop or spill it.

And if you are alone, then perhaps it is because you lie to those who help you.

"I agree," he said softly. He smiled. Maybe more a wince or a gritting of teeth than anything.

What was he doing here? He hadn't wanted to come to this stupid party. And now Faith was telling him to speak the truth.

Why couldn't he just be on his ship, he missed the Jovy Akor--

Oh yeah. It was because he'd lost her. Lost Hart's home just like he had lost so many people's trust, again and again and again.

He opened his mouth to say something, and for a dizzying moment he didn't know what he was going to say. It was suicidal, but he teetered on the truth. I'm Yludih. Watch them turn on him, like he had turned on them before. Fair play. It was a fancy ball full of a lot of people and there were a bunch of military attending-- one scream, that was all it would take.

But what else was there to tell? What was the truth? Was he Iaan Krome? Ruq? Quio?

All of it. None of it. A liar dressed up in pretty clothes. Dressed up in the pretty illusions of his kind.

And to top it off his damn hands were shaking and they wouldn't stop. He should have never gotten on that fucking ship to Ne'haer.

"I'm sorry," he eventually said, as evenly as he could. Now he couldn't look at them, either of them. There were high spots of color on his cheeks like he really was drunk. Or ill. He just stared at the wineglass. Brushing one finger against the crystal rim as if to make it ring. Then abruptly he stopped; if it rang it would remind him of the Uleuda, and the people there he had hurt, like the people he had hurt over in this world, too.

"Some evening, huh?" A poor attempt at humor, and even as he spoke he felt his heart grow heavier and heavier. But he couldn't stop lying. Lying for his life? Or just because that's what he did? "Iaan Krome," he said, quietly, knowing he was likely doing irrevocable damage and that if they found out the truth after this, the real truth, they would never trust anything he said again.

He sighed. Tristan had called him Lord Krome earlier and the presumed title made him just as sick as the rest of it. "Just Iaan. Sorry, Tristan," another worthless smile, "There's no bastards' club.

"It's my father's name. I don't know--"

And at once he stopped talking.

His mouth had stalled. His heart had failed him.

"I-I'm sorry," he said again after a few trills. He didn't know what he was doing but of course he did-- there was no pretending, not to himself. He knew full-well what he was going to do. He stood abruptly, then actually teetered and almost fell back to the sofa. "I-I'm not feeling well I think I need some air." Yet he hadn't moved.

Instead, "The truth?" he asked, and one hand reached to his hip for the dagger, but then he realized it wasn't there. It had been left at the door.

Its absence was a clarifying moment and sense seemed to douse him. It brought him at least momentarily back to sanity, to control. He felt very flushed. Yet to the others he would look very pale. "I need to go. C-Can you find Hart? Or no-- don't get him. Have a nice evening. I'm fine." Yet his legs felt weak like he had just dodged death. He tripped when he began to walk, and bashed heavily against a table. The wineglass snapped in his grasp. Cutting him. Wine all over. A glimpse of silver Biqaj blood.

He folded his hurt hand into a fist, glass and all, feeling it cut into him deeper, and fled from the room.

OOC: If I'm to be honest I did not expect that to happen. At all. Er. Sorry Elyna, I don't want to mess up your party. Um? Follow him if you want? Or maybe Elyna could jump in here? He'll probably find some balcony or something somewhere. If you want to get Hart he's probably yukking it up with some ladies in the ballroom still.

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Elyna]

The skyrider thought she saw a familiar face standing head and shoulders above to crowd. Therefore she naturally had turned on her heel and fled. Away once more from the hustle and the bustle of the dance floor to a side room and a quieter space where she could collect her thoughts. As she approached, a young biqaj came barrelling out, the door slamming on it’s hinges behind her, “ser!” the noble woman stepped to the side and to safety as he moved in her direction. She lifted her hands and held them palm up to him, as though she could flag him down, “excuse me, ser?” If she managed to slow his rapid retreat she would rest gentle hands on his shoulders.

The petite brunette studied the panicked features, “you’re bleeding,” she stated the smiple truth. She peered behind him through the door that he’d fled from. Had someone attacked him? He had wrapped a cloth around his hand and she couldn’t necessarily see blood, yet he held the hand as though it was injured and pained him. Though a noble and a Skyrider, Elyna Burhan was nothing less than kind to the people she came across. Or she tried to be. Her dark eyes scanned his expression, hoping that perhaps, just maybe, he would pause enough to let her help him.

“Were you attacked?” She asked if given the opportunity, “is someone chasing you?” Or something. Given the events of earlier in the season, nothing was beyond the realms of possibility. Her gaze flickered to the door once more, wondering if anyone would follow the young man out. She didn’t recognise him and he certainly didn’t seem like a Knight or Skyrider. If he was, the young woman was certain she had not encountered him.

“Let me help you…”

► Show Spoiler

No worries at all! It may be best if you post next Quio - obviously he can dodge her and make his way into the distance. Tristan and Faith could also follow him out and bump into Ely in the corridor

[Quio]

He had gone no further than a few hurried steps when a woman rounded the corner and he nearly ran her over. The Yludih immediately stopped still, and she reached out and touched his shoulder. Kindly. He could barely stand it. His hand was held in front of him, shards of glass still in his palm. What had she said? Attacked? Chased?

The idea that someone might follow him made him want to turn tail and flat-out run.

"N-No," he said, answering without knowing if she even understood Rakahi, now trying to edge out around her, away from her touch. Put her between him and the people who may or may not follow. "I-It was my fault, I'm sorry, I smashed a wineglass." Warring urges. Stay. Get out. "I should go back, I didn't-- I got wine on the floor."

But no, what was he saying, he couldn't go back. What he really wanted --needed-- was to get his things and leave, his coat and weapons, before someone found him and he did something he could not take back-- but his things had been taken at the door. To get to the front door, he'd have to go through the ballroom. He couldn't do that. There were too many people.

"D-Do you happen to know if there's a way out-- n-not through the ballroom? A balcony?" he asked. Then, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I should just go back."

There was no way he was going back.

"Don't help me. There's glass. My hand--" He didn't know how deep the wounds were. If he had been cut deep enough, his true blood, his Yludih blood, would shine through. Light would seep out from the wound. Illuminating it.

Illuminating the truth. That was what Faith had wanted, wasn't it? He was terrified, though, of what might happen should someone here find him out.

"Speaking in Rakahi"
"Speaking in Common"
"Speaking in Ulehi"

[Tristan Venora]

Faith’s words surprised him. He had not expected his slave to react like that, but be just as delighted as him at the revelation that there was another noble bastard. Oh, the tone of her voice was gentle, but the words themselves were anything but. She was pissed, and for a moment he was tempted to tell her to let Ruq be. But then he decided that she had as much of a right to speak her mind as anybody else. She wasn’t just a slave. She was also a person. Of course, he thought, he wasn’t required to agree with her.

“There’s no need to be sorry”, he said to the man he had known as Ruq so far. “I’m glad that I finally know. I already know a few Kromes, but I think you’ll be my favourite one. Did you know that …” He wanted to ask him if he knew that Elyna whose family hosted the ball was married to a Krome, but it was just then that Ruq suddenly claimed not to be feeling well. His eyes widened because the Biqaj’s announcement had come totally unexpected.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he wanted to know and furrowed his brow. He didn’t know what had caused it, but Ruq’s sudden change in behaviour confused him and worried him. It was obvious that he was anything but fine, and as he fled from the room, breaking his wine glass in the process, he exchanged a glance with Faith before he quickly followed him. He didn’t want him to accidentally hurt himself! Hart would never forgive him!
---

“Oh”, he made and stopped abruptly because something or somebody was in the way, and he couldn’t continue. He looked up and realized that it wasn’t just a random guest or a just as random piece of furniture, but a woman that he knew quite well and considered a friend. “I’m sorry, Elyna. I was in a hurry and didn’t see you”, he explained and blushed a little because even he didn’t literally run into people every trial. “Thanks for inviting me to the ball by the way …”

He broke off as he noticed that Iaan/Ruq/whatever was standing there as well. He just looked at him incredulously and somewhat thoughtfully for a moment before he stated, “Here you are. We were worried about you when you ran out of the room so suddenly. Did we do anything wrong?” His gaze fell on the man’s hand. “Did you cut yourself? Don’t worry about the glass. I’m sure that the Burhans have servants that can take care of such things.” He looked at Elyna, expecting her to confirm that before he turned back to Ruq.

Unlike Faith he was not mad at him at all (or at least not very much). He just wanted to finally know what was going on. That had been the second time that Ruq had abruptly ended a conversation and left the room. Maybe he did have some sort of deep, dark secret after all? No, he decided. That was unlikely. He’d always seemed like such a nice guy.