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wardenred · 8 months

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Whumptember 5: "What do you want me to do?"

Using the prompt to poke at the backstory for an ongoing WIP.

Elair's hands shook subtly as he stepped inside the Cliffside Inn. He told himself it was simply because he was cold from the rain. Now, with the flames crackling in the cramped room and the smell of hot spiced wine traveling over the tables, he would get warm in no time. Warm. Relaxed. Collected.

The man who'd ordered him to come here shouldn’t have the luxury of seeing him shudder.

The Cliffside Inn stood on the edge of the Luminous Harbor, on the flat top of the Molten Peak. Technically, this great big rock towering over the waves counted as beyond city limits. Or at least the upper part of it did. Once you got halfway up the slippery staircase cut directly into the stone, past the red flag that served as a border market, your life was governed by a fresh set of rules. The city guard still patrolled the inn and the area around it, but there were only three situations that would make them interfere.

Mass poisoning. Conspiring with the Dread God of the Deep. Murder for non-religious reason.

Anything else was fair game.

Elair took a breath, squared his shoulders, and made his way to the farthest, darkest corner of the room. He didn't know if that was where Grati expected him, but honestly, where else?

His suspicions came true the moment he pulled up a chair. Shadows on the other side of the table moved to reveal a tanned man with the kind of smile all sharks in the Nacrous Sea envied.

"You sure kept me waiting," he drawled in place of a greeting.

Elair kept his chin up. "You said tonight. Nothing implied the time was set in stone.”

Grati clicked his tongue. "You're getting bold out here, are you? I guess the big city living agrees with you." He looked Elair up and down, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Which aspect of it is the most agreeable, I wonder? All that shit about learning magic in a posh Academy? Or is it about your lover?"

All warmth seeped away. Elair supposed he'd always suspected that Grati must know by now. It would be unreasonable if he didn't. That didn't mean Elair was ready to hear this.

"He is nothing. Merely a way into the good crowd." He'd never be able to say this so dismissively where there was a chance of Miqualis hearing it. Not just because it was untrue, or because he didn't want to hurt his boyfriend. Rather, around Miqualis he became a softer, tamer thing. Here, away from his fabricated existence, with the person who'd known him and molded him before Miqualis had ever set eyes on him, it was different. The rancid resentment came bubbling back to the surface, and Elair let it. Old hurts were the surest disguise against those who expect nothing better.

"You are sure not nothing to him." Was that admiration in the minelord's voice? "I spent the day looking over the reports. Even observed you two first-hand, a little bit. The boy is clearly head over hills." He saluted Elair with a half-empty tankard. "Well done, fake son."

"Thank you," Elair said without missing a beat. He didn't feel the least bit grateful, but in situations such as this, it was always best to keep talking. Pause for too long, and your silence might give away a secret or two.

Grati smiled and set his tankard aside without taking a sip. "Now. For the real reason you're here."

Elair's arms itched to cross in front of his chest. He resisted. "Yeah. That What do you want me to do this time? I'm all ears."

"I'd rather you were all brains. Though," the older man's grin turned salacious, "I don't think it's your mind that rich guy is after, huh? Though I suppose it's your private business. Just as long as it results in my getting what I want, and I want a few drops of your lover's blood. For research, you understand."

A shiver ran down Elair's spine. "Why? He's a regular base-blooded human with a regular magical gift. You might as well take mine."

"Ah, but I need his. Though if you're offering..." Grati procured a rusty blade seemingly out of nowhere and wiggled his fingers around the handle. "Come on, then, provide a sample. It will be interesting to compare."

This was as good a way to stall as any. Elair extended his hand like a challenge and barely winced when the blunt blade cut through his skin. He knew enough healing spells to deal with an infection and make sure the wound didn't scar. This wasn't a problem.

Keeping Miq out of this man's clutches was. Research, my ass. There was nothing interesting about blood. Not for studies. What made it valuable was how it allowed one to control the person whose veins it had come from, or those closest to them.

Elair's breath hitched.

He shouldn't have offered his hand.

He only did it because Grati already controlled him, but. But.

"There," Grati said, pulling the blade away from the gash in Elair's wrist and replacing it with a small vial. Thick redness trickled into the glass tube. "It's always nice to have some extra. By the way, your sister sends her regards. She's still such a willful child. Best give her no reason to stop being one too soon, eh?"

Elair really shouldn't have offered Grati his hand.

#warden's random scribbles #whumptember2023 #whump writing #my writing #writeblr #writblr #original fiction #flash fiction #snippet #champagne problems #fantasy #the thing about elair is he's book-smart but not life-smart #he does things with zero thinking and then he's like “wait a second”#all the other impulsive characters i've ever written combined look like paragons of strategic thinking compared to him #i love him but damn

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