Your Evil Adviser

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

They really had to stop blushing every time Perroy approached them, though the glance at their attire- or lack of, in certain places- did nothing to help.

His movements are graceful, if measured as the begin to dance.

You succeeded. And for all that you don't attend these often, you dance very well.

[He too moves with an almost thoughtless grace; his focus is on the wizard. A thought occurs to him suddenly, bringing a faint frown to his face.]

And I usually dance on my own, or with a conjuration.

They look down- at their hand on Perroy’s shoulder, revelling in the fact that they were actually in his arms. The touch of fabric, the give and take of actual flesh, his hair brushing their fingers, intermingling breath…

Truth is, I was, um…waiting for you.

[He takes this in for a moment, eyes on the wizard as they dance. The blush is as charming as it always is, and he is very much enjoying being able to trace the trajectory of it down, down, down.]

Well. I am very glad to be your first dance. And unutterably flattered that you were waiting for me. ... I must have done something rather impressive to have earned this honour. [He smiles faintly.]

[While he has held Gemini before, in a sense, acting as a pillow for the wizard while they sleep is not quite the same. The wizard is warm and solid in his arms, and - almost unconsciously - Perroy finds himself drawing them closer.]

The hand on his shoulder moved, unconsciously, to the back of the chancellor’s neck.

Ask away.

[He smiles at him faintly, then sobers.]

I had wondered if you might accept me spending the night. Not necessarily for anything untoward, if that is not something you're comfortable with - but largely because, as you've already told me, you've barely rested recently, your brief nap at the picnic aside.

[He searches Gemini's eyes for a moment.]

Then a smile- large, bright, and oh my gods I think I am literally glowing right now-

Yes, Balthazar.

Yes.

They pulled him closer- their foreheads meeting. A cat-like bonk.

And I doubt anything you would want to do would be untoward, my dear.

Wow, that was- did I just purr that?

Gods- kiss him.

No, don’t.

On the cheek?

Cheek is good.

They withdrew slightly- just for a moment, just long enough to brush their lips on his mask lying over his cheek.

It's decided, then. I'm glad.

They were well past blushing and well into being completely flushed.

Thank you, my dear. Thank you.

They twirl a pice of his hair around their finger.

You…you are beautiful. Beautiful too, I mean. Just um…beautiful.

The wizard cleared their throat.

I, um, am sure you have many other dances that people have demanded of you tonight. Do not let me keep you from them.

[He pauses, then sighs.]

Yes.

Yes.

I will be in the ballroom for a while yet- there is someone else I’m hoping to dance with, though I am not sure he will come.

I intend to find Bec after that. We have some things to do.

But I look forward to y- this. I look forward to this. I will find you after Mortimer’s situation has been resolved.

Thank you, my sweet Balthazar.

Thank you.

Good luck. And I'll see you soon. I am looking forward to it, as well.

Thank you for saving me the dance, Gemini.

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

They really had to stop blushing every time Perroy approached them, though the glance at their attire- or lack of, in certain places- did nothing to help.

His movements are graceful, if measured as the begin to dance.

You succeeded. And for all that you don't attend these often, you dance very well.

[He too moves with an almost thoughtless grace; his focus is on the wizard. A thought occurs to him suddenly, bringing a faint frown to his face.]

And I usually dance on my own, or with a conjuration.

They look down- at their hand on Perroy’s shoulder, revelling in the fact that they were actually in his arms. The touch of fabric, the give and take of actual flesh, his hair brushing their fingers, intermingling breath…

Truth is, I was, um…waiting for you.

[He takes this in for a moment, eyes on the wizard as they dance. The blush is as charming as it always is, and he is very much enjoying being able to trace the trajectory of it down, down, down.]

Well. I am very glad to be your first dance. And unutterably flattered that you were waiting for me. ... I must have done something rather impressive to have earned this honour. [He smiles faintly.]

[While he has held Gemini before, in a sense, acting as a pillow for the wizard while they sleep is not quite the same. The wizard is warm and solid in his arms, and - almost unconsciously - Perroy finds himself drawing them closer.]

The hand on his shoulder moved, unconsciously, to the back of the chancellor’s neck.

Ask away.

[He smiles at him faintly, then sobers.]

I had wondered if you might accept me spending the night. Not necessarily for anything untoward, if that is not something you're comfortable with - but largely because, as you've already told me, you've barely rested recently, your brief nap at the picnic aside.

[He searches Gemini's eyes for a moment.]

Then a smile- large, bright, and oh my gods I think I am literally glowing right now-

Yes, Balthazar.

Yes.

They pulled him closer- their foreheads meeting. A cat-like bonk.

And I doubt anything you would want to do would be untoward, my dear.

Wow, that was- did I just purr that?

Gods- kiss him.

No, don’t.

On the cheek?

Cheek is good.

They withdrew slightly- just for a moment, just long enough to brush their lips on his mask lying over his cheek.

It's decided, then. I'm glad.

They were well past blushing and well into being completely flushed.

Thank you, my dear. Thank you.

They twirl a pice of his hair around their finger.

You…you are beautiful. Beautiful too, I mean. Just um…beautiful.

The wizard cleared their throat.

I, um, am sure you have many other dances that people have demanded of you tonight. Do not let me keep you from them.

[He pauses, then sighs.]

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

They really had to stop blushing every time Perroy approached them, though the glance at their attire- or lack of, in certain places- did nothing to help.

His movements are graceful, if measured as the begin to dance.

You succeeded. And for all that you don't attend these often, you dance very well.

[He too moves with an almost thoughtless grace; his focus is on the wizard. A thought occurs to him suddenly, bringing a faint frown to his face.]

And I usually dance on my own, or with a conjuration.

They look down- at their hand on Perroy’s shoulder, revelling in the fact that they were actually in his arms. The touch of fabric, the give and take of actual flesh, his hair brushing their fingers, intermingling breath…

Truth is, I was, um…waiting for you.

[He takes this in for a moment, eyes on the wizard as they dance. The blush is as charming as it always is, and he is very much enjoying being able to trace the trajectory of it down, down, down.]

Well. I am very glad to be your first dance. And unutterably flattered that you were waiting for me. ... I must have done something rather impressive to have earned this honour. [He smiles faintly.]

[While he has held Gemini before, in a sense, acting as a pillow for the wizard while they sleep is not quite the same. The wizard is warm and solid in his arms, and - almost unconsciously - Perroy finds himself drawing them closer.]

The hand on his shoulder moved, unconsciously, to the back of the chancellor’s neck.

Ask away.

[He smiles at him faintly, then sobers.]

I had wondered if you might accept me spending the night. Not necessarily for anything untoward, if that is not something you're comfortable with - but largely because, as you've already told me, you've barely rested recently, your brief nap at the picnic aside.

[He searches Gemini's eyes for a moment.]

Then a smile- large, bright, and oh my gods I think I am literally glowing right now-

Yes, Balthazar.

Yes.

They pulled him closer- their foreheads meeting. A cat-like bonk.

And I doubt anything you would want to do would be untoward, my dear.

Wow, that was- did I just purr that?

Gods- kiss him.

No, don’t.

On the cheek?

Cheek is good.

They withdrew slightly- just for a moment, just long enough to brush their lips on his mask lying over his cheek.

It's decided, then. I'm glad.

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."

I angle my head towards him in invitation. I had thought of putting my hair up into something more elaborate for the masquerade, but now I'm glad I chose a simpler style, one that leaves the length of my hair on display. Glad, and filled with dread. I've exposed a weakness like this. I've bared my throat to the teeth.

More satisfying though was the knight's response.

Even with the mask, Perroy could sense the tension - the slight tremble of someone holding themself in check, the slightest hitch to his breathing. And this merely from someone petting his hair. Behind his own mask, a smile quirked his lips - it seemed that it was important to remember that Errant had volunteered as prey in the Hunt. It took a certain type to do that.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "As I'd thought-"

I clap a hand over my mouth like I could still catch it before it escapes, and though the gasp has already breached containment, I manage to absorb most of the moan that follows it.

Shit.

The tension on my scalp releases as Perroy regains his footing, and I feel his hands go to my shoulders as he apologizes, muttering something about imprudent ball guests. I uncover my mouth and babble that it's okay, no harm done, but I'm lying, fuck, I'm lying. My skin is flushed all the way down my neck and I'm dizzy with the sensation and I'm panting, I'm fucking panting just from my hair being pulled.

"Why, Sir Errant," he murmured, reaching up to smooth his hand over the knight's scalp. "You seem feverish - are you unsteady? This will not do - come now, let's get you out of this crowd..."

His hand closed around Errant's arm just above the elbow, steering him inescapably away from the main crush of the masquerade. He positioned himself deliberately on the side with the injured leg, both to ensure no further guests stumbling into it and to help support the knight.

It wasn't long before they were in a quieter section of the castle. Without the cover of the chattering guests and music, Errant's breathing is even more noticeable. Perroy allows himself a sharp grin behind his mask as he presses the knight's back against the wall of a quiet alcove.

"Please forgive me, my lord," I stammer, unable to meet his eyes through our masks. "You didn't ask for this, and I... it's not fair of me to..."

He doesn't quiet me while I babble, waiting patiently for me to still, like a cat watching its prey, taking its sweet time to pounce.

The hand slides down down Errant's chest, painfully slowly, lingering on his belly.

Perroy's thumb makes small, slow circles on Errant's belly; his eyes are unblinking through his mask.

"However, you didn't answer my question. Are you telling me that something else is wrong with you? ... or must I discover this for myself?"

Wants this.

My tongue darts out to wet my lips, suddenly dry from the shallow breaths I've been releasing. Another shiver runs through me as I realize Perroy's intentions, realize he's not just humouring me, or trying to shame me.

He likes what his touch is doing to me. He likes that I'm a mess just from my hair being pulled.

The knowledge stirs something in me. A sudden spurt of confidence.

I take his wrist, the one down at my stomach, and move it lower. Deliberately moving it through the opening in my garment where the clasps don't reach. Deliberately directing his touch to palm me through my clothes.

With the other hand he pulls off his own mask, discarding it carelessly with a clatter - he doesn't want that separation any longer. Then he leans closer once more, watching the knight's face as he explores him through his clothing, mapping out the shape of him.

"You're very sensitive, aren't you?" His tone is low but almost conversational as he reaches up to carress Errant's hair again. "You were already affected by my merely stroking your hair, back in the hall. Yanking on it simply made it... more obvious."

This pull is different from the first. Perroy doesn't yank or tug, doesn't force sudden sensation from me. He gradually increases the tension, and instead of pleasure surging through me, it bubbles up, growing slowly like a stormcloud. I hear a pleased sound from the chancellor at my reaction.

Instead, he takes their shoulder, spinning them around to press them against the wall once more, this time facing it. Perroy steps closer, the length of his body pressed to Errant's back; while his form is slight, he's leanly muscled. He reaches up to reclaim his handful of Errant's hair. This time when he pulls it forces the knight's head back, baring his throat.

"This seems fairly natural for you too," he murmurs in his ear. "You enjoy the feeling of being prey, don't you? Tell me; why did you join the Hunt, Sir Errant? What were you hoping would happen?"

I'm not exactly nervous, but there's an unease building in me. Not only am I entering a strange new environment full of unknown threats and rules, but one I left suddenly with no explanation. I've already written my reports of the ongoing conflict to the royal highnesses of Eridanus; I needn't justify my absence to anyone else.

But, I am here to play nice, am I not? Perroy's advice had been to give a gentleman where a monster is expected, and I'm not fool enough to disregard his words.

And more to the point, Thorn looks uneasy. Perroy recognises the look - he's seen it before on men stepping onto an unfamiliar battlefield, one fought with soft fabrics and whispers. He sighs, and makes his way over.

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

They really had to stop blushing every time Perroy approached them, though the glance at their attire- or lack of, in certain places- did nothing to help.

His movements are graceful, if measured as the begin to dance.

You succeeded. And for all that you don't attend these often, you dance very well.

[He too moves with an almost thoughtless grace; his focus is on the wizard. A thought occurs to him suddenly, bringing a faint frown to his face.]

And I usually dance on my own, or with a conjuration.

They look down- at their hand on Perroy’s shoulder, revelling in the fact that they were actually in his arms. The touch of fabric, the give and take of actual flesh, his hair brushing their fingers, intermingling breath…

Truth is, I was, um…waiting for you.

[He takes this in for a moment, eyes on the wizard as they dance. The blush is as charming as it always is, and he is very much enjoying being able to trace the trajectory of it down, down, down.]

Well. I am very glad to be your first dance. And unutterably flattered that you were waiting for me. ... I must have done something rather impressive to have earned this honour. [He smiles faintly.]

[While he has held Gemini before, in a sense, acting as a pillow for the wizard while they sleep is not quite the same. The wizard is warm and solid in his arms, and - almost unconsciously - Perroy finds himself drawing them closer.]

The hand on his shoulder moved, unconsciously, to the back of the chancellor’s neck.

Ask away.

[He smiles at him faintly, then sobers.]

I had wondered if you might accept me spending the night. Not necessarily for anything untoward, if that is not something you're comfortable with - but largely because, as you've already told me, you've barely rested recently, your brief nap at the picnic aside.

[He searches Gemini's eyes for a moment.]

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

They really had to stop blushing every time Perroy approached them, though the glance at their attire- or lack of, in certain places- did nothing to help.

His movements are graceful, if measured as the begin to dance.

You succeeded. And for all that you don't attend these often, you dance very well.

[He too moves with an almost thoughtless grace; his focus is on the wizard. A thought occurs to him suddenly, bringing a faint frown to his face.]

And I usually dance on my own, or with a conjuration.

They look down- at their hand on Perroy’s shoulder, revelling in the fact that they were actually in his arms. The touch of fabric, the give and take of actual flesh, his hair brushing their fingers, intermingling breath…

Truth is, I was, um…waiting for you.

[He takes this in for a moment, eyes on the wizard as they dance. The blush is as charming as it always is, and he is very much enjoying being able to trace the trajectory of it down, down, down.]

Well. I am very glad to be your first dance. And unutterably flattered that you were waiting for me. ... I must have done something rather impressive to have earned this honour. [He smiles faintly.]

[While he has held Gemini before, in a sense, acting as a pillow for the wizard while they sleep is not quite the same. The wizard is warm and solid in his arms, and - almost unconsciously - Perroy finds himself drawing them closer.]

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

They really had to stop blushing every time Perroy approached them, though the glance at their attire- or lack of, in certain places- did nothing to help.

His movements are graceful, if measured as the begin to dance.

You succeeded. And for all that you don't attend these often, you dance very well.

[He too moves with an almost thoughtless grace; his focus is on the wizard. A thought occurs to him suddenly, bringing a faint frown to his face.]

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."

I angle my head towards him in invitation. I had thought of putting my hair up into something more elaborate for the masquerade, but now I'm glad I chose a simpler style, one that leaves the length of my hair on display. Glad, and filled with dread. I've exposed a weakness like this. I've bared my throat to the teeth.

More satisfying though was the knight's response.

Even with the mask, Perroy could sense the tension - the slight tremble of someone holding themself in check, the slightest hitch to his breathing. And this merely from someone petting his hair. Behind his own mask, a smile quirked his lips - it seemed that it was important to remember that Errant had volunteered as prey in the Hunt. It took a certain type to do that.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "As I'd thought-"

I clap a hand over my mouth like I could still catch it before it escapes, and though the gasp has already breached containment, I manage to absorb most of the moan that follows it.

Shit.

The tension on my scalp releases as Perroy regains his footing, and I feel his hands go to my shoulders as he apologizes, muttering something about imprudent ball guests. I uncover my mouth and babble that it's okay, no harm done, but I'm lying, fuck, I'm lying. My skin is flushed all the way down my neck and I'm dizzy with the sensation and I'm panting, I'm fucking panting just from my hair being pulled.

"Why, Sir Errant," he murmured, reaching up to smooth his hand over the knight's scalp. "You seem feverish - are you unsteady? This will not do - come now, let's get you out of this crowd..."

His hand closed around Errant's arm just above the elbow, steering him inescapably away from the main crush of the masquerade. He positioned himself deliberately on the side with the injured leg, both to ensure no further guests stumbling into it and to help support the knight.

It wasn't long before they were in a quieter section of the castle. Without the cover of the chattering guests and music, Errant's breathing is even more noticeable. Perroy allows himself a sharp grin behind his mask as he presses the knight's back against the wall of a quiet alcove.

"Please forgive me, my lord," I stammer, unable to meet his eyes through our masks. "You didn't ask for this, and I... it's not fair of me to..."

He doesn't quiet me while I babble, waiting patiently for me to still, like a cat watching its prey, taking its sweet time to pounce.

The hand slides down down Errant's chest, painfully slowly, lingering on his belly.

Perroy's thumb makes small, slow circles on Errant's belly; his eyes are unblinking through his mask.

"However, you didn't answer my question. Are you telling me that something else is wrong with you? ... or must I discover this for myself?"

Wants this.

My tongue darts out to wet my lips, suddenly dry from the shallow breaths I've been releasing. Another shiver runs through me as I realize Perroy's intentions, realize he's not just humouring me, or trying to shame me.

He likes what his touch is doing to me. He likes that I'm a mess just from my hair being pulled.

The knowledge stirs something in me. A sudden spurt of confidence.

I take his wrist, the one down at my stomach, and move it lower. Deliberately moving it through the opening in my garment where the clasps don't reach. Deliberately directing his touch to palm me through my clothes.

With the other hand he pulls off his own mask, discarding it carelessly with a clatter - he doesn't want that separation any longer. Then he leans closer once more, watching the knight's face as he explores him through his clothing, mapping out the shape of him.

"You're very sensitive, aren't you?" His tone is low but almost conversational as he reaches up to carress Errant's hair again. "You were already affected by my merely stroking your hair, back in the hall. Yanking on it simply made it... more obvious."

It's some time ago now that I asked you for a dance. Tell me, are you still willing?

@your-evil-adviser

Ah! Balthazar! I do feel a bit better, yes. Thank you.

Quietly, reaching out for Perroy’s hand-

Then I shall treat it with the respect that deserves. Thank you.

[He draws Gemini out a little further onto the floor, finding a gap in the other dancers before turning back to them, reaching to rest a hand lightly on their waist.]

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."

I angle my head towards him in invitation. I had thought of putting my hair up into something more elaborate for the masquerade, but now I'm glad I chose a simpler style, one that leaves the length of my hair on display. Glad, and filled with dread. I've exposed a weakness like this. I've bared my throat to the teeth.

More satisfying though was the knight's response.

Even with the mask, Perroy could sense the tension - the slight tremble of someone holding themself in check, the slightest hitch to his breathing. And this merely from someone petting his hair. Behind his own mask, a smile quirked his lips - it seemed that it was important to remember that Errant had volunteered as prey in the Hunt. It took a certain type to do that.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "As I'd thought-"

I clap a hand over my mouth like I could still catch it before it escapes, and though the gasp has already breached containment, I manage to absorb most of the moan that follows it.

Shit.

The tension on my scalp releases as Perroy regains his footing, and I feel his hands go to my shoulders as he apologizes, muttering something about imprudent ball guests. I uncover my mouth and babble that it's okay, no harm done, but I'm lying, fuck, I'm lying. My skin is flushed all the way down my neck and I'm dizzy with the sensation and I'm panting, I'm fucking panting just from my hair being pulled.

"Why, Sir Errant," he murmured, reaching up to smooth his hand over the knight's scalp. "You seem feverish - are you unsteady? This will not do - come now, let's get you out of this crowd..."

His hand closed around Errant's arm just above the elbow, steering him inescapably away from the main crush of the masquerade. He positioned himself deliberately on the side with the injured leg, both to ensure no further guests stumbling into it and to help support the knight.

It wasn't long before they were in a quieter section of the castle. Without the cover of the chattering guests and music, Errant's breathing is even more noticeable. Perroy allows himself a sharp grin behind his mask as he presses the knight's back against the wall of a quiet alcove.

"Please forgive me, my lord," I stammer, unable to meet his eyes through our masks. "You didn't ask for this, and I... it's not fair of me to..."

He doesn't quiet me while I babble, waiting patiently for me to still, like a cat watching its prey, taking its sweet time to pounce.

The hand slides down down Errant's chest, painfully slowly, lingering on his belly.

Perroy's thumb makes small, slow circles on Errant's belly; his eyes are unblinking through his mask.

"However, you didn't answer my question. Are you telling me that something else is wrong with you? ... or must I discover this for myself?"

Why, it's that hulking beast of a Knight Captain Thorn. @knights-hand Let us give credit where credit is due, I can certainly see he has been practicing very hard to learn the dance.

Tis no shame, truly. He has many talents, does he not? They simply lie in... other arenas.

(still struggling to keep a straight face)

Me, embarrass myself? I should think your advice would be better directed toward the knight captain, surely.

(His eyes flick to the sides, taking in the glares of some of the nearby guests. Two perplexed lines appear between his brows.)

Why, it would seem the fellow has quite the loyal following. I had no idea. How was I supposed to know he has so many admirers? One does not really expect it of the sort who look like that. How on earth did he manage to win so many hearts?

Whether or not he has a loyal following is not the point.

He is not embarrassing himself by making an honest effort; you are by drawing attention to it, and cheapening yourself further by making comments about his appearance. It is not my business if you wish to be shallow and unpleasant; it is my business if you do so by insulting guests at a function I have had a large part in organising.

I take it that your people do not have the concept of noblesse oblige? The duty of royalty to acknowledge that their position affords them not only benefits but obligations. And part of that means not openly mocking someone who has not had your advantages.

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."

I angle my head towards him in invitation. I had thought of putting my hair up into something more elaborate for the masquerade, but now I'm glad I chose a simpler style, one that leaves the length of my hair on display. Glad, and filled with dread. I've exposed a weakness like this. I've bared my throat to the teeth.

More satisfying though was the knight's response.

Even with the mask, Perroy could sense the tension - the slight tremble of someone holding themself in check, the slightest hitch to his breathing. And this merely from someone petting his hair. Behind his own mask, a smile quirked his lips - it seemed that it was important to remember that Errant had volunteered as prey in the Hunt. It took a certain type to do that.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "As I'd thought-"

I clap a hand over my mouth like I could still catch it before it escapes, and though the gasp has already breached containment, I manage to absorb most of the moan that follows it.

Shit.

The tension on my scalp releases as Perroy regains his footing, and I feel his hands go to my shoulders as he apologizes, muttering something about imprudent ball guests. I uncover my mouth and babble that it's okay, no harm done, but I'm lying, fuck, I'm lying. My skin is flushed all the way down my neck and I'm dizzy with the sensation and I'm panting, I'm fucking panting just from my hair being pulled.

"Why, Sir Errant," he murmured, reaching up to smooth his hand over the knight's scalp. "You seem feverish - are you unsteady? This will not do - come now, let's get you out of this crowd..."

His hand closed around Errant's arm just above the elbow, steering him inescapably away from the main crush of the masquerade. He positioned himself deliberately on the side with the injured leg, both to ensure no further guests stumbling into it and to help support the knight.

It wasn't long before they were in a quieter section of the castle. Without the cover of the chattering guests and music, Errant's breathing is even more noticeable. Perroy allows himself a sharp grin behind his mask as he presses the knight's back against the wall of a quiet alcove.

"Please forgive me, my lord," I stammer, unable to meet his eyes through our masks. "You didn't ask for this, and I... it's not fair of me to..."

He doesn't quiet me while I babble, waiting patiently for me to still, like a cat watching its prey, taking its sweet time to pounce.

The hand slides down down Errant's chest, painfully slowly, lingering on his belly.

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."

I angle my head towards him in invitation. I had thought of putting my hair up into something more elaborate for the masquerade, but now I'm glad I chose a simpler style, one that leaves the length of my hair on display. Glad, and filled with dread. I've exposed a weakness like this. I've bared my throat to the teeth.

More satisfying though was the knight's response.

Even with the mask, Perroy could sense the tension - the slight tremble of someone holding themself in check, the slightest hitch to his breathing. And this merely from someone petting his hair. Behind his own mask, a smile quirked his lips - it seemed that it was important to remember that Errant had volunteered as prey in the Hunt. It took a certain type to do that.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "As I'd thought-"

I clap a hand over my mouth like I could still catch it before it escapes, and though the gasp has already breached containment, I manage to absorb most of the moan that follows it.

Shit.

The tension on my scalp releases as Perroy regains his footing, and I feel his hands go to my shoulders as he apologizes, muttering something about imprudent ball guests. I uncover my mouth and babble that it's okay, no harm done, but I'm lying, fuck, I'm lying. My skin is flushed all the way down my neck and I'm dizzy with the sensation and I'm panting, I'm fucking panting just from my hair being pulled.

"Why, Sir Errant," he murmured, reaching up to smooth his hand over the knight's scalp. "You seem feverish - are you unsteady? This will not do - come now, let's get you out of this crowd..."

His hand closed around Errant's arm just above the elbow, steering him inescapably away from the main crush of the masquerade. He positioned himself deliberately on the side with the injured leg, both to ensure no further guests stumbling into it and to help support the knight.

It wasn't long before they were in a quieter section of the castle. Without the cover of the chattering guests and music, Errant's breathing is even more noticeable. Perroy allows himself a sharp grin behind his mask as he presses the knight's back against the wall of a quiet alcove.

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."

I angle my head towards him in invitation. I had thought of putting my hair up into something more elaborate for the masquerade, but now I'm glad I chose a simpler style, one that leaves the length of my hair on display. Glad, and filled with dread. I've exposed a weakness like this. I've bared my throat to the teeth.

More satisfying though was the knight's response.

Even with the mask, Perroy could sense the tension - the slight tremble of someone holding themself in check, the slightest hitch to his breathing. And this merely from someone petting his hair. Behind his own mask, a smile quirked his lips - it seemed that it was important to remember that Errant had volunteered as prey in the Hunt. It took a certain type to do that.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "As I'd thought-"

"Sir Errant, I'm pleased to see you're up and about again - it would have been such a pity for you to have had to miss the rest of the festivities as a result of your injury. Might I enquire as to how your recovery is going?"

"I thank you for your concern, my lord," I say. "My recovery seems to be in the hands of sorcery and very effective painkillers, or else I'm sure I wouldn't feel as well as I do." As it is, my leg throbs if I put too much weight on it for too long, requiring me to shift my stance to alter the balance. I must look like a nobleman in a portrait, and I feel slightly ridiculous for it.

He tilts his head, appearing to take in the sight of Errant in his outfit for the first time. "You clean up rather nicely," he notes, thoughtful. "Your hair is rather lovely. I've always been fond of long hair on a man - as I suppose may be obvious." He motions to his own hair. "Yours is a lovely colour, though. Almost coppery."