salt and water

Still, stupidly, he walked around the market, half disgusted, half interested. While he was bitter, there wasn't many opportunities like this, to see what happened in other kingdoms. While he felt like he was forever stuck in Medes, he had the opportunity to now look across the ocean.

That wasn't enough to convince the disgusted half to behave.

 orion’s joke stole him from his thoughts. he cracked a smile, chuckling lowly. “that can be arranged, if you are not merely jesting.” aurelius poured the wine into two chalices, before turning around to hand the other his. the sollian wine gleamed like liquid gold.

“where is my dear master of coins?” he asked casually, nursing his drink as his gaze settled upon the other. the other was a younger image of ulysses, really. handsome and youthful, not yet fully weathered by salt. “does your brother know you are here, lord blacktyde?”

He considers the question for a moment, weighting in on the answer; he won't lie to his king, but he sees no problem in misrepresenting the truth. "Here... in Sollia? Yes. He was the one who invited me." He drinks from his chalice and doesn't continue. The second part of the conversation would go like: Here, in your chambers? No, and he'd have a stroke if he found out. While he'd love to say that out loud, it would be terribly unpolite, so instead he just smiles down his chalice. "My brother is a very kind man," he says, not an ounce of honesty in his words.

Lord Blackwood took the other man's hands and couldn't help the way his lips quirked up in a more genuine look of amusement on his normally impassive face. "Well the pleasure is all mine, Orion of Blacktyde." Frey says with a smirk. "Have you been enjoying the festivities?"

"I would not say that they don't experience the joy of life. They've just dedicated their culture to other crafts. " His concern of Valtolia's martial might grew out of respect and knowing the strength of their men's dedication to warcraft than jovial dancing on the shore.

"I would never rule out the possibility of finding someone. Or If I can impart my personal experience; the people you're meant to connect with always seem to arrive when you're not actively looking." He rests a hand on Orion's shoulder, grinning cheekily.

"A fine young man like yourself? Someone will succumb to that charm of yours once you decide to engage with it."

The first thing he realizes is that he should learn from him. Amare has a way of talking, that Orion envies. The worst part is that he can't even place the thing that makes him feel that way; it could be the soft smile, the carefully chosen words, the way to convey message without looking like a fool. Like him. It makes him angry that he doesn't have those soft skills, even if he doesn' t realize it. He wants to escape that room, back to the comfort of his little palace by the sea; it's much safer sailing the dangerous waters of Blacktyde than having a conversation one isn't prepared for.

Sadly, his inaptitue is only highlighted when he presses him: "What does bother you my lord?" he tilts his head to the side, fully unaware that it's not really polite to bring up difficult subjects.

While Orion was looking for someone, it was less in the realm of true love or companionship and more in the area of politics. With his immature and superficial knowledge of politics, Orion was confident that the diplomacy was worked in marriages and not in rooms like this.

His face up, neck bared as fingers spread, searched, explored. Fingers scratching at the back of his head as pleasure climbed through his spine. He felt young again, ignoring whatever else was going on in favor of responding to the provocations whispered against his skin. "Do you think I'd enjoy a lord that can't rule? Wouldn't you suggest your brother for that?" He asked, smirk on his lips, even as he hardened further with his attention. With his focus, vanity was a sin he had never been above. His reply was bitten off with a hungry moan as a single finger slid its way inside him, it went in smoothly, eagerly swallowed as he guided Orion into another kiss. "You may treat me however you wish," He whispered, giving him more than he gave most men as he pushed back on his finger while his own hand moved. Orion's cock was a thing of beauty that he still remembered fondly, and for once he did not try to hide away the eagerness he felt to have it back on his hands; inside him, "as long as you remember I am much much more than that."

While the notion was disturbing, he doubted Aeden would be the first. Being the second son came with perks, yes, but it came, most of all, with the humiliation of being the second son. He had been haunted by that notion his entire life, and perhaps a little paranoid that people always preferred his brother instead of him.

"Leave him be," he says, hands grabbing his ass roughly, trying to rebuild the intimacy destroyed a moment ago; "I'm more than enough for you," he says, and it is part to convince himself of that.

"You are-" and his arms tight closer around him, pulling him hip to hip "But I like when you're not," he wasn't attracted to his brain, even if he knew it was the most interesting part of his anatomy. Maybe he was a lowly lord, easily convince by a pretty piece of ass... "When you're..." he kisses him on the lips, and then the neck, opening his shirt, "Here..." he's crocuhing himself until he has a nipple in his mouth, between his teeth, "all for me..."

He doesn't wait to be told that twice. Quickly, he turns Aeden around, glad that he's leaning back against the fountain in the middle of the glade. His ass is exposed to the night, and Orion works quickly with his trouses, undoing the complicated laces — why the fuck he had to wear these fancy clothes? It was much easier back in Medes... — and pulls his cock out. He rubs the head, spreading the moistness along the shaft and then spits in his own hand, lubing his hand up.

to the compliment -- not to himself, but to the men of their homeland -- he felt it wiser to nod along. "may we both continue to be prime examples." not completely modest, yet not selfish, either, as he gave a slight and tilted nod. "what is it you're seeking, coming here with the rest of the congregation? something I might help you find? even if it's not of myself, I'd like to think I know enough others to narrow a search."

He smiles at the compliment that was thrown his way, nods and raises as a glass, as if he was drinking to their own health. Orion takes the win and doesn't dare to say anything more on that. As for why he was there, he muses at the question for a while; should he lie? Should he play up the role he had in their country? "I don't know, your highness," he decides for the casually competent clueless lord, "I'm here at the invitation from my brother, of course; I think he feels like I'm a good representation of our humble island back home."

however, the alliance between him and ulysses? much more prized. that did not mean he was dismissive of the lord regent; if anything, it made him more curious. “the party is the party. a political dance that must be waltzed out.” aurelius looked around. “but my feet tire. even a king must have some rest, correct?” he cracked a smile to the other, then nodded towards a nearby door. 

moving to open it, aurelius welcomed orion into his rest chambers.

“what is your poison, lord blacktyde? sollian wine? local brews?”

He doesn't think twice, and maybe that's the problem. Ulysses is competent and capable, but Orion... Orion is the charming one. The one who will say the most unpolite thing just at the right time to break the tension of the room, carving a place for himself. That's why he cracks a smile: "...Whores, your majesty." He can't really say smuggled old argonian whiskey. Not out in the open, anyway, and not without raising some eyebrows. "But sollian wine will do."

"I was no more seduced by the luxuries than you have by my throne," His tone, and his grin was sharp, there had been no changes except perhaps a refinement in his voice, his movements, bolder fabrics, less open conversations, you had to use different weapons at court than you did at home, or in the open sea. "Do you have any real concerns or are you here to throw senseless words my way? I do not have time for this, the king relies on me to keep our homeland strong, and I've made sure to leave Blacktyde stronger and richer than it's ever been, any difficulties it might face will fall back on you, lord regent."

He regretted it, buying into his taunts. Like small boys, with fake swords, how long until Orion cried and he had to deal with that as well? He sighed, ignoring his glare, his opinions, wishing he had the strength of mind to ignore him.

"You are the heir, yes, but.. What is the saying? A man who needs to say he is a king-" and he doesn't finish it, because he doesn't have to. They've heard that how many times before? He couldn't even count. And if Ulysses wants to rub his birthright on his face, Orion will take; not gracefully, not silently, and not politely. Removing him from the regent position would be a scandal, unless Ulysses he was coming back for it. And he doubted his brother would want to leave the court out of spite. "Once again, our people are in safe hands," he raises his hands, as if it show caluses from working hard — which he doesn't have — "And you do not need to worry, brother. No one thinks you abandoned us for a life of luxuries and carnal pleasures at the royal court." No one did think that, not that Orion didn't try to implant that.

"Frey Blackwood of the Blackwood Castle of Bergia. How about yourself?" Frey asked as he tilted his head. A hint of curiosity slipping onto his face as he tilted his head and regarded the other man carefully. "You do not look familiar to me."

"Ah, a lord," he says, only a hint of mockery in his tone. "I should have studied my houses better, don't you think?" he's pointing at himself first and foremost; but the fact that Frey is hit by accident by the comment is not unplanned.

"Orion of Blacktyde. Medes." He was right: they had never met before; Orion never really made an effort to branch out of his island, he was too busy stuck in internal disputes — mainly caused by him in the first place... "Pleasure to meet you," he offers a hand to him.

"Yes, yes," He rolled his eyes, half tempted to raise his voice, "I haven't been at home, surely I was sorely missed by you brother. It may be that some detail slipped me, though I doubt so, after all I've a whole kingdom to look after." He turned to Orion, mask on his hands, smile trained away.

"I do not think it's out of place to imagine that you have been seduced by the luxuries of the royal court and forgot our humble beginnings and our frequent visitors." A palace by the coast was hardly a humble beginning, but Orion couldn't pretend that their family wasn't the one involved with the piracy across the strait. Their strategic position put them in their map, and over the years, they have fostered that relationship, more or less open. Orion wasn't proud of it, but it seemed that Ulysses preferred to hide it. There was a big difference between the two of them. "I am just afraid the court has changed you, brother," he feigns concern.

but  secretly,  he  had  been  longing  for  a  drink.  much  of  the  day  was  spent  in  polite  conversations,  circles  upon  circles  of  sweet,  glided  words,  that  he  can  almost  feel  the  honey  thick  at  the  back  of  his  throat.  so  when  a  familiar  face  approached  him,  aurelius  found  his  opportunity. 

“lord  blacktyde,”  he  greeted  with  a  smile,  nodding  his  acknowledgment  at  the  other.  kin  of  his  council. he had heard a few rumors about the brothers.  “it  is  an  honor  to  have  you  alongside  me.  numbers  are  a  very  good  image  for  any  royal  court.”  he  chuckled.  “are  you  thirsty?  may  i  interest  you  in  a  drink?  i  was  just  about  to  retire  to  my  chambers  for  a  glass.”

It was as good for him to be there as it was for the king. No one wanted to seem weak in an event like this and Orion was glad to be filling up the rows of medesi on the event. An united front. "Of course, yes," no one can really say no to a king, even if they wanted. But he too was desperate to run away from it, to anywhere. "Does the party bore you, your majesty? I thought you might be used to things like this."

"That we are a long ways. Does that bother you?" He asks with a raised brow. The Prince-Lord of Meropa had spent his youth sailing the seas in expanding trade and briefly within naval conflicts during the war. A week for honoring the treaty between the kingdoms was nothing in comparison to months and years spent on native and foreign waters.

"Quite elegant. It's not quite like the celebrations we have. I still applaud their efforts." He chuckled. The ball was far more tame in comparison to the Medesi carnivals held throughout the calendar right before storm season. A change of pace but no complaints at all. His silent stress remained on any potential political scandals to break out among all five royal courts present.

"If you are not enjoying yourself, we'll, hopefully that'll change. Who knows, you may find someone that will make it difficult for you to leave." He smirked.

Elegant is not what he'd call the things that happened back at home, but then again, they would never aspire to that in the first place. "They're far more fun, though, don't you think?" He much rather the loud music and dancing than the courting and muttering around people that happened here. "Maybe we are the only ones who feel the joy of being alive..." he wasn't philosophical in any context, but maybe when missing home, he got close to that sentimentalism.

He smiles and shakes his head, playing down, "Why you say that? Is it that obvious?" He was quite lonely in Valtolia, yes, but he didn't expect that to be written all over his face. "There's no one here for me..."

putting himself out there.

those who would find him, would indeed find him charming, or at least polite. but he wasn't approaching others at random, or singing his own praises to the halls that would hear. argentus wanted to, at least, pretend that his deeds could speak for him. his accolades, his rewards, his titles obtained new and old.

"one of the princes is having an acceptable time," argentus teased back. still noble and proper, but playing within the bounds of it. offering ease, should orion of blacktyde be amenable to receive it. "but the halls, the palace, the grounds. it's been breathtaking." in that much, he could be honest.

"ahh, there it is." beaming. "classic medesi pride." not something to shame or hide, but as always, there was a time and a place. "this just means we'll have to put our own efforts into an event for all the kingdoms, later this year." the honorable approach. "--in the name of peace, of course. not at all flaunting or outdoing."

He almost felt embarassed by being called out like that, even if the prince was agreeing with him. Unfortunately, he was very proud of his home, maybe to a fault. "Of course..." he nods, playing into the game, "And yet, if I may say, we don't need much effort at all..." and while it may see he was being facetious trying to seduce the prince, he was just honest: "There's beauty in our lands that can speak for itself." And then he smirks, unsure if this is crossing the line or not: "And there's beauty in our men as well."

Luckily there were oh so many eyes around these parts. He didn't expect to have to handle him as he dressed though.

He sighed in unvoiced exasperation at his interruption, pushing the fabrics of his attire through his legs before fixing it on his waist. It was suited for their land, for the seabreeze and the warm sun. "Good evening, Orion." He said shortly, "Make yourself at home." He gestured in annoyance, as he already had.

"It hasn't been that long," He replied, strapping the vest across his chest, practically bare but looking effortlessly opulent. "I trust my orders for the last shipments were carried out as written?" He turned to face him for a second before finding the mask the king had fashioned for him, a brief smile gracing his lips. A sign best hidden from his brother. "It will make up for the latest expanses on repairs." Was his voice pointed at that? Who could say.

He looks at his brother, without moving from his position on the couch: "Well, by looking at you, one may think that." He wasn't badly dressed, but it wasn't something you'd see at that court. Orion could get away with that — he was just a lowly lord from the islands, probably thought to be nothing more than a brute — but not someone from the King's Council. Ulysses had a reputation to uphold. "I thought you might be wearing Bergian fine silks by now..."