bardgloryยท:
date: seven of ten. location: saifโs office, evening status: closed to @achillesgrieves
When it comes to Saif, there is no recompense or remorse. There only isย and is not. Plainly stated facts. Yes and no. Saif is Guard-Captain: yes. Saif is good at his job: in theory, yes. Thereโd be no reason otherwise to keep him in his position, were it not for the fact that Septimus calls on him like a dog. He points, and Saif does. Thatโs the case as far as he can tell, and while it might not be a pretty one, itโs on display for all to see. Armelโs particularly fond of picking apart Saifโs failures, when the opportunity presents itself, has been for a while.ย
Heโs got his pants on, now, at the very least, and is fumbling with the buttons of his shirt โ fumbling being the most apt of words, really, given his lack of coordination. The air in the office is cool, but the light reflected on Saifโs face from the lamps is warm, and if he had some vellum or a pen he might scratch out petty words of poetry. Mindless scraps, things that float around in the space between his ears when heโs not really thinking. Something something statue-like, morose and sorrowful, caught in intense thought. Not quite the way you want to see someone after youโve just had sex, but heโs had worse experiences. It might just be that Saifโs face doesย that, even when relaxed.
โYou looked veryย grand yesterday,โ he starts, because he hates silence, would rather die than be stuck in it. The only problem with feeling the constant need to chatter like an obnoxious songbird is the fact sometimes his mouth starts before his head can catch up, and in the moment, he struggles to find what to continue with. So, instead, he puts his foot directly into his mouth, because that just seems to be the running theme for the week:ย โdid you enjoy it? The โGrand Tourneyโ?โ Thereโs no smallย amount of mockery in his tone, couldnโt help it if he tried.
There was a time he would have never considered himself a self-sabotaging man. But with his age, his naivetรฉ faded away. Making room for introspection that he didnโt quite feel comfortable with. Never does he feel so self-destructive than with Armel.
Saif watches out of the corner of his eye as the man struggles to desk. In his own office, with the door closed, he finds no reason to follow suit. Only watches how hastily Armel wants out of his presences after all is said and done. He wants desperately for it not to hurt. He wants desperately to be a man Armel could look in the eye when he fucks.
But that is not who Saif is. Not yet.
He almost hears a compliment in Armelโs tone. That alone sets him on edge to the same extent it makes him preen. The idea that he watched Saif, judged him fairly for once, has his mind reeling. Makes him think that might be more to the man than thinly veiled jabs at Saifโs honor. But before he has time to respond, Armel has let his nimble brain catch up to his pretty mouth. Lips move around a mocking comment, and he tries not to visibly deflate. Tries. He is a fool after all. โI did what I had to do.โ The words that generally come out even are gruff and shameful. He knows Armel can see through him far too quickly than any other. โWhat is there to enjoy in beating nobles,โ he lets the disdain sit on his tongue like he has any right to feel it.












