#apprentice michaela

"Excuse me? Can I help you with something?” Her voice got a little deeper, but her face looks the same- “Hey, do you- eep!” she nearly slipped off the porch, and Muriel hurries to catch her, the side her face on his stomach. 

“Be careful.”

“Thank...” she looks afraid for half a second, then a blush, very faint one and a small smile replace it almost as fast. “You, uh, hi.” Oh god, he’s huge! And so strong, too! Stop smiling like a schoolgirl, get it together! He helped her stand straight, and she stood back, playing with her hair. He smelled like myrrh. Myrrh... smells familiar. And why does her head hurt all of a sudden? “Do I know you from somewhere?” She’s massaging her temples now, fingertips frosted.

“No.” He was content to leave it at that. He didn’t want to make her late, and she hates to be late. But just as he turns to leave and warn her, she whispers something. 

“Muriel...?” How does she know that? She shouldn’t remember his name, she shouldn’t- “Muriel, is that you?” Muriel turned slowly, an almost horrified expression on his face. “Oh my god, it is you!” She's laughing, trying to leap into his arms, but Muriel catches her quickly, mindful of his collar. She could have gotten hurt! "Where have you been?! I thought something happened to you!"

"Hey, careful! You could have gotten hurt!"

"I knew you'd catch me," she has her hands on his shoulders. She didn’t think he could get any bigger from her days working in the Palace, but he has always surprised her. "I can't believe I forgot you." Muriel is silent for a few minutes.

"I wanted it that way. You're going to be late." That seems to rouse her. In the euphoria of seeing someone, something from her past she had almost forgotten about Countess Nadia's summons to the Palace.

"We have so much catching up to do. You can stay in the shop... if you want. Or maybe come with me?"

"Too noisy. Be careful. You're in danger, Michaela." He sets her down, walking towards the market, guiding her so she can get a head start on the day. "He'll offer you a way out, don't take it."

"Will I see you again?" Part of him hopes not. She had Asra. There was no need or room for him. He'd be a third wheel. But she looks a little sad. "I won't forget you this time, right?"

"You will. When I leave, you'll forget about me."

"I don't want to. You're too sweet to forget." He... He thinks he felt a part of his brain fry. His face lights up and he's shoving her forward, out of the alleyway.

"Just go do your errands!" The hurried clinking of chains caused her to giggle a little, and after she laughs, she looks around, confused.

What was she laughing about? Oh well. Time to see the Countess.

"Muri, I don't think I ever asked, but when's your birthday?" They were walking around in the forest, hand in hand as Muriel did a weekly check of the protection charms.

"...I don't celebrate it."

"Why?"

"Time is a human construct." Michaela’s hand slipped from his as she stopped in her tracks, and when Muriel turned around, he had the chance to see her quickly changing expressions between horror, confusion and uncertainty as her line of thought crashed and burned, followed by screams of dying, innocent brain cells. There were several things she found... questionable with that statement:

1.) Would he still feel that way when the grays, the arthritis and memory loss sets in?

2.) Is that a roundabout way of saying he doesn't remember or even know when his birthday is?

And most importantly-

3.) How... inhuman that statement sounds coming from a man just two inches short of seven fucking feet tall living in the woods with a wolf as his only companion.

"...What?"

"Muriel... how old are you?" He knows it's been roughly 17 years since he came to Vesuvia, but he was old enough to remember having parents, and his original home, even if the memories are few.

“If I had to guess, about thirty...? I don’t celebrate it, so I don’t keep count.”

“Do... you know how old I am? And define “about thirty”.”

“Lucio was an adult when I met Asra after he became the new count. I was just a child and that was 17 years ago. You and Asra look about the same age, so 25...?”

“Yeah, I’m 25.” He’s surprised that she has so many questions about this topic, and the look of relief when he mentioned first meeting Asra. “For a second, you made it sound like you were some ancient magical being of nature and not an actual human.” 

Would she have dumped him if he was?

“It would suck to watch me grow old and die while you don’t, wouldn’t it?” Oh. That conversation was dropped as quickly as it started. This was early August. However, Muriel soon learned that just because she doesn't say anything, it doesn't mean it's not on her mind.

Really, he should have known when the hut smelled of lavender and lemons weeks later along with a very, very, very large tub right in the middle along with oils and lemonade on the table.

"Go on, just relax and I'll take care of everything," she purrs, gesturing to the tub.

"I bathed yesterday."

“I’m not bathing you, I’m treating you. You deserve nice things, Mister Man.” Her fingers casually move as if walking up his torso. “And this is just the start.”

“You don’t have to...”

“But I want to.” Even if it wasn’t his style- despite her protests, he still thinks she’s fancy- he isn’t one to be ungrateful. “I want to serve you.” Where had he heard her say that before...? He mumbles how he still thinks it’s a waste on him, but he’s already taking off his travelling cloak. In another life, maybe she would have hated the mumbling, but ask him not to do it so much rather than snap at him for it like she would someone else, but as it stands she pays it no mind, even if she hears it clearly.

“Can you... look somewhere else?”

“Mmm? Oh sure. Let me know when you’re comfortable.” The shuffling of cloth, the heavy thump of boots and gentle sloshing of the water, followed by the wafting of lavender helped her to keep track of his movements, estimating the proper time to turn around.

“You can look now.” She turns and is relieved to know he fits well. She starts pouring the lavender/peppermint oil mix on her hands, warming it in between her hands and gently runs them up his upper back and shoulders, just to distribute the oils first. She feels him getting warmer, stiffing slightly then relaxing. He’s so dense and wound up it’s hard to tell what’s just pure muscle and what is muscle bound up through the years.

“You ever been massaged before, Muri?” She purrs in his ear, still rubbing it in first. Her voice is calm and melodic... almost sultry if he really wanted to go there.

“Once, during...” when Lucio thought he did exceptionally well, before he was tossed in the cage for the night before the next fight. It’s still a wonder they found ones big enough for him, or even bother putting him in one. Not like it was really necessary. “That time.” She hums, now pressing a little firmer into his shoulders. 

“Did it feel good then?”

“No. Felt weird.”

“Does it feel weird now?”

“...A little.” She eases up, as if silently asking for permission, but he looks back expectant, like he wants to continue. Massaging his shoulders, she felt the deeply wound tissue give only slightly, not wanting to cause undue pain.

“It’ll take several sessions of this to really loosen your muscles, but how do you feel?” Muriel rolls his shoulder, surprised at the newfound litheness of it. “Good right? Now sit back, I’m doing your wrists next.” As she gently massaged his wrists, she murmured praises about them- how gentle they were, how strong his body is, how she loves to be held by him, how safe she and Elyon feel in his arms.

“You’re just soft.” The smile on her face widens as she shakes her head, curls bouncing as they followed her movements.

“You are not going to let that go, huh?”

“You’re small, too.”

“You’re literally the tallest man I know. And Julian is tall.” Muriel hummed, letting her continue. When she pressed her lips against his knuckles, fingers intertwined, she saw movement in the water, thinking he jumped. When she looked closer, she realized that... that wasn’t a knee or a toe. Muriel shifted to get more comfortable and hide his now very obvious erection. Did he like what she was doing? 

“I think you should stop for now. Leg’s... falling asleep.” She nods without thinking about it, trying not to make her stares obvious, or at least not salivate. 

“Need help waking it up?”

Will you ever bring him to meet everyone here? I scoff. Not in a million years as long as my dad is around. He’d find some way to try to wrestle control of the situation and pretend he has it all together when he honestly doesn’t. I got some time to kill before heading to the palace, so I go to the marketplace.

Sure enough, just by the bakery, is Asra. “Morning!” Faust pokes her head out, also greeting me. I may not like snakes that much but Faust is precious.

“What do you have planned today that you need a lunch?” Elyon did the lion’s equivalent of an eye roll. “Something not good, I’m guessing.”

“Depending on your perspective of “not good.”” He walks with me as Faust slithers onto Elyon’s head. Tall! She calls out triumphantly, excited about Elyon’s growth spurt. "I met the countess in person yesterday.” Asra looks mildly intrigued. “And I saw the count in person for the second time.”

His eyes narrow and darken as he takes all this in. “Second time? When was the first?” I explain the meat incident a little over a year ago, not long after we met and Asra scoffs, blowing a lock of fluffy curls out of the way. “And so he was impressed you can show moving pictures with your mind and gave you a job as his personal entertainer.” I nodded, glancing at the sky and squinting. We’re making good time. “Be careful. Don’t trust that man, Michaela. He’s nothing but trouble. Do what you can to keep your job, or at least not get on his bad side enough to die.”

“I know, I know. Jeez, Asra, you sound like my mom.” We turn a corner and Asra simply laughs. “And Countess Nadia?”

“She is a good woman, from what I can tell. Dedicated to her job.”

“Elyon likes her.” We talk more about magic and my latest works when the palace starts getting closer, Asra more and more uncomfortable. “You leaving?”

“Yeah, don’t feel like seeing Count Richard today.” I nod, waving him and Faust off as Elyon and I continue on our way. According to the guards, I’m half an hour early.

“The count and countess are in the drawing room. Right this way.” I follow the chamberlain, looking around as servants hustle about, all focused on their tasks. “Your Excellencies, miss Michaela has arrived for her first day as arcane performer.” So that’s my job now? I can’t see inside, but I know that I have to take several breaths. I can’t let Lucio get to me, nor I displease him to the point of no return. I repeat this in my head, to tread carefully.

“It’s not even on the half hour! Let her in.” The chamberlain lets me in, and I give a short nod to both out of respect. Nadia smiles at me, and I can’t resist smiling back a little. “Well, good morning, cupcake.” Don’t react, don’t react, don’t- I simply blink back.

“Good morning, sir.”

“You’re awfully early for your first day.” Lucio whistles and two dogs with fluffy white hair and two different eye colors walk in, glancing at me, then Elyon. A servant comes up to him pointing to a parcel being brought in.

“I like being punctual.” Lucio hums, petting their fur as he examines me. I want to fold my arms again, but I force myself not to. He doesn’t comment any further but instead tells me to get changed.

I am unceremoniously tossed into a bath, scrubbed from neck down. When hands reach for my hair, I jump back, grabbing a bottle of shampoo, which turned out to be conditioner. "Nope, I got this.” I try not to take my sweet time, washing it out and wrapping it in a warm towel, accelerating the drying process a little.

The clothes he gave me are a little revealing on my midriff and arms, black with accents of red and white. I feel like a dark candy cane. The bottom part is a long, ankle length skirt that accentuates my hips and rear, and with it, a ruby and diamond encrusted hair tie. I put my hair in a half-bun, adjusting my glasses.

When I approach Lucio and Nadia again, I feel the draft on my stomach, so naturally I wrap my arms around myself to keep warm.

“Now you look good. But the glasses have to go. It throws the whole thing off.”

“I need them to see.”

“Surely your eyesight isn’t that bad.” I take the glasses off, hooking them in the waistband. “See? You look so different without them… Stop glaring at me.”

“I know you’re talking but I can barely make out the difference between your teeth and your fur cape.” Nadia tries to hide a giggle. “I didn’t mean to glare.” Working for Lucio meant walking on the eggshells of eggshells. If he could find a flaw with it, he’ll point it out. I managed to make an easy rapport with the Countess, as there are days in which she would require me to come in and entertain for her instead. I can’t say which I prefer. I still feel the pressure to impress, even if she isn’t as openly critical or a bully as Lucio is.

I don’t always entertain, but when I do, it’s never the same thing. Lucio had me follow him to a new room today, one with a clear view of the coliseum in the distance. ...I’ve been, but I’m not one for the excessive gore and death.

A hulking figure stands beside him awkwardly. Guy’s so tall, I actually have to crane my neck upward while Elyon sits, sniffing the air. Myrrh? He smells like myrrh.

“Since you’ve been so good, I suppose you deserve some reward, don’t you cupcake?” Lucio’s nasally voice sounds far too gleeful as I am extremely tempted to disagree with the way he nags me. “I know how popular he is with some of the ladies, so meet the Scourge! Scourge, this is Makalania.”

“Perhaps not knowing is a good thing. Life doesn’t come with instructions.” She heard him shift to get more comfortable, but she didn’t anticipate the feeling of chapped lips on her cheek, then another on her lips. He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look like he had initiated the kiss- their first kiss-  Asra closed the book she had, tucking it away in its original spot when he heard her coming upstairs.

"Hey Fluffy, food's ready." Asra hummed, following her downstairs. Today it was shepherd's pie. "This should last us the next two days... you don't have a huge appetite, do you?"

"Err, not really. Why?" Michaela shook her head and shrugged.

"I just want to make sure I made enough, that's all." They ate in companionable silence. Once everything was washed and put away, Asra grabbed Faust and headed back upstairs to do some light reading. Michaela and Elyon were close behind, bringing that journal and a pen with her.

"I didn't know you kept a diary," Asra smiled as if teasing, not looking up from his book. He could feel the glare from his spot in the pillow pile.

"First off, it's a journal. Not a diary. I can't keep one anyway. I get too tired some days and forget. I wouldn't sit here and write in it while you're in here anyway. Second, that's not what I'm using it for. Just... writing."

"Whaaaat? Why did you have to say it like that? You think I just go snooping reading through people's personal belongings? I thought we were friends, Caela."

"We are," she shifts to get more comfortable, laying on her stomach now. "But I take no chances." Looking down, Asra noticed her watching him. "I mean, I don't want you thinking you have something to make fun of me for, y'know?" She's deflecting, trying to make it seem less prickly.

"Oh come on, don't you trust me just a little?" Asra's lips widen in a teasing manner, and he's glad her expression means she refuses to take the bait.

"Not with that smile, I don't." After a few minutes, she hands him her journal he picks up right where he left off. Dialogue was decent enough, looks like she changed up the kissing scene.

"If you want to write a good kiss, I can help with that."

"You've kissed someone before," Michaela asked incredulously, clearly not believing them. Asra laughed and nodded.

"I mean, you got the basics down, but there's no feeling to it," Asra leaned towards her, pointing to where he meant. "Kind of... clinical, if you will."

"Well, I don't... I never kissed anyone," she glanced up at him. "What are you gonna do, complain to Count Lucio about it?" Asra looked almost angry at the idea.

"I'd rather not, thank you. I'd rather complain about Count Lucio." Michaela laughed, taking her journal back.

"Haha, you do that already. Nothing I don't already know. He's... a lot to deal with." Asra scoffed, but didn't outright oppose her words.

"I'm serious about the kiss scene, though."

"And how are you going to do that?" Asra motioned for her come closer, whispering to let him kiss her. The blush that spread across her face was one he would be one he'd never forget. She spluttered, nearly falling off in shock. "It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to,” Asra helped her readjust. “And you can always say no.” Michaela stared at him, her face a wide range of conflicting emotions. 

"Ok. Ok, sure." Asra's soft smile did little to quell her nervousness. He started to lean closer, instructing her to relax and move closer. "Asra, stop playing around and just do it." The kiss was warm, a little damp, and confirmed her suspicions. Asra had very, very soft and plump lips. The kiss only stopped when she felt his hands go from her shoulders to the small of her back, and she gently pushed him off. “That’s as far as we go.”