Belden- (Pre-Beaugro) 1x1 Oriel and Redsparrow

[Redsparrow]

The comment held the sting of an out lash, the bluntness of a direct attack rearing from what Idris had heard in Kern's office. However the distaste that stunk into the end of the comment caught Luke's attention, it seemed a reflection of himself rather then a criticism of the elemental. "We all make choices, some seem more wise then others."

What ever lay in Idris's past was Idris's business, Luke was known to pry but rarely did he push subjects of regret or pain. Emotional or physical, people's scars and baggage was non of his business unless they so chose to make him part of it. A favor so rarely given to him from his own peers and superiors.

"Fear can be a useful tool, but if one chooses to act or encourage the fear then one should expect to see it reach far beyond the intended targets. A sort of ripple affect, which can be hard to stop and harder to reverse. Worse if you never act but everyone expects you to." He knew little of cobras, but what he had gathered from Idris it would be unsurprising to find out he was feared by his people. Someone with his skills had potential to hold those skills above his peers, something that could lead to unfair advantages.

"I get the feeling you don't let what others think of you get in your way." Idris's seemed to let a memory flicker past his eyes, one of potential pain. The way he slough off the thought shown a self confidence in the face of hardship.

Luke's smile faded as Idris brought up his 'medical training'. "I imagine he got a fair dose of that when Joss with the help of a band turned his element on him. The right combination of opponent and band and you can turn any power against its wielder. Just a matter of associating the action to a motion or word to enable the effect when desired."

"Alec was lucky to have you and Amiran." Lucky to have been able to escape Faypine's rule, lucky to never have to fear the sting of a band. Luke's mind danced to Snowden, to a life he had almost had there. It was a life and a dream he spent little time on, useless to waste energy on the impossible.

Luke shifted his body to feel for any major restrictions the bandages may have on movement. Idirs had done an impressive job of making them fit firmly while allow for flexibility were needed. "Best wrap of my life, honestly."

It was when Idris was in close proximity Luke noticed a slight relaxation within the man. He seemed to be almost basking in the warmth that poured off Luke's body. As a fire elemental he was known to emit more then his fair share of ambient heat. "My last partner use to hate the amount of warmth I put off. It is an unwelcome addition to the heat and humidity that beat down on Faypine during the summer. Though it was appreciated in Snowden's long winters."

[Oriel]

Idris knew the falcon control bands could be turned to feeding an elemental's power back into the body. What intelligence had been gathered suggested that each band was tailored to a particular person or element. Each was flexible enough to be either adjusted among all types in a family or constructed to match a unique set of abilities. They were marvels of ingenuity, first slipped into place with an attraction to energy and later sealed by the characteristic flicker in power as unique to any elemental as a signature.

The band used to subdue Alec had not been tailored to him. It was only tuned to earth at the time, which had perhaps saved his brother's life. None of the power keys were able to drain him fast enough to prevent his defending himself against Joss Keystone's attacks. They had been tuned, instead, to the lesser powers the falcons had been able to access. Throwing one of those at Alec had been like trying to catch a whale in crab net. A few more uninterrupted moments of focus and he might even have broken free.

Joss saw to it that there was no such opportunity.

"I was lucky to have Alec, too," Idris said quietly.

The chaos which followed that Arena match still rode large in his memory, though the visceral emotions embroiled in the events had faded with time. Both he and Alec could talk about those moments now without lapsing into long silences. He was grateful for even that much.

Luke's compliment echoed in the tilt to his jaw and the faint impression of a smile that lingered near his eyes. "Pretty words for someone without much choice in healers," he said. "All of this is basic in Esterbrush. I've never been better than average, but I'll take the thanks as they were meant."

Idris caught himself all but leaning into the heat soon after. Had Luke been another serpent, he would have known how to move forward and into the space between them. Nothing in his intelligence training forbid liaisons as long as it furthered the goals of a mission. What remained of his ethics training in Esterbrush sparred with his first instinct to test what Luke might allow him, that in turn further divided among the interests of personal curiosity and what he could explain as professional necessity.

He remained within the arc of the elemental's reach.

"Can't say I mind heat," he answered. "Though few people are as devoted to basking as serpent shifters. It's not a trait we all share, but it makes life in the desert easier for those of us who do enjoy it. "

[Redsparrow]

"If this is basic medical skills than perhaps some of my past wraps were intended to be constricting to reduce my chance of over doing to quickly. Regardless I am sure this will be more comfortable to sleep in, so well done for mastering the basics." Ending the comment with a flirtations wink. Perhaps it was an offer, a way of asking about last nights kiss without brining it up directly.

"You look tired, would you like to lay down?" It was a risky bet to place, but Luke was curious to what stood behind Idris's motives. He suspected the snake was not being completely straight forward about more than a few things. If he did so choose to take Luke on this challenge, Luke would be hard pressed to not pass out in response.

Shifting slightly Luke gave up half the bed to allow Idris the choice. As he did, he gave himself more space which caused some of the pressure of the moment to ease. In that instant Luke found himself wishing for nothing short of madness. Something old rose in him as his eyes ran along Idris's figure. "If warmth is something you like I imagine you will find this to your taste."

The words sprung from his mouth before he had fully thought them through. Foreign to his own ears he struggled with the conflicting urge to fling himself at Idris or out the window. Both seemed like a great idea. Whatever the struggle that took his mind Luke remanded externally calm. The moment behind that kiss was winning out and Luke found himself looking forward to whatever fear or pleasure may come from his invitation.

[Oriel]

Idris stood and began to unlace the ties of his outer vest in answer, keenly aware of Luke’s eyes following each movement. The innumerable pockets stitched into the lining served to store the most common antidotes as well as a set of picklocks and other odds and ends he preferred to keep close. He hung it with his sheathed knives on the back of the chair then added a previously hidden folding razor that had remained concealed at his waist.

Beneath the vest he wore another layer of leather armor. This, too, he set aside until he remained only in the linen undershirt that lay closest to his skin, the vambraces that served him as arm protection still tied over his sleeves. These last he loosened with his teeth before discarding them atop the rest of the pile.

He sat on the edge of the bed and wedged off his boots with a muttered hiss, measured and slow while Luke adapted to his closer presence.

In that moment he grew conscious of the fact that no outsider and few of his colleagues had seen his full arming routine.

Although he thought Luke lacked the experience to make deadly use of what he’d just seen, there were others who would have paid dearly to know which of his vest pockets lead to his daggers. What to carry and where to store each part of the kit was a choice unique to every fighter. In truth, he hung the knife sheaths beneath his arm when other harness would have been too bulky. Two false pockets, one on either side, allowed him to draw his slimmest weapons in moments. When the cold months came he carried them in the sleeves of a longer coat.

The razor leant itself to the easiest explanation. The rest, though, and the way he handled them as casually as another man might don heirloom jewelry, attested more to his profession than any words.

Idris eased into a sprawl that took up most of the offered half of the bed. He was pleased to see that this one was longer than the other in the swamp, though still not quite enough to let him stretch at his full height without dangling his ankles over the edge. The last time he’d been so close to Luke he’d still worn the armor and carried the razor. At the time he’d shifted it nearer his off hip without the elemental noticing.

“That’s really all of the weapons this time,” he offered. “No offense meant, but I wasn’t sure if we’d been followed last night.”

Idris settled into the place the elemental had been sitting, the sheets and coverlet still warm from his body, leftover heat soaking into the new bruises over his shoulders and the twinge at the back of his neck. Neither his drop to the alley floor nor his hurried retreat would have stayed with him under normal circumstances. It was the belated attempt to shield his eyes and later his venom work that had drawn the muscle tight enough to cramp.

All of these minor pains faded beside his sense of Luke. He risked a measured look at the elemental.

“There are few people more to my taste.”

He struggled not to reach out to the man to convince him not to flee the room. A wrong movement now or a rushed word and it would all be over. Idris forced himself to relax and let his breathing slow.

[Redsparrow]

At about the age of fifteen Luke had homed in his powers enough to be lethal at range, prior to this any knowledge of hidden weapons was invaluable. He could still remember learning the skills needed to respond to and predict close range attacks. There were more and less common places people stored various items and Luke was decently good at predicting what weapon would be produced based off movement and location. To have the snake reveal this kind of information was either a sight of trust or a miscalculation due to fatigue.

Regardless he made a mental note of it, perhaps a tit for tat moment. If Idris were to be knowledgeable about Luke’s weaknesses then it was only fair Luke knew of Idris’s. He watched carefully and couldn’t help but smile at the way false pockets fooled the eyes into missing the real slits that lead to Idris’s chosen items.

It hadn’t been until his early twenties that he had mastered his static probing which could tell him the location of any metal object on a person and removing the surprise element to most attacks. So mostly Luke enjoyed seeing the many ways Idris had rigged his clothing to get items Luke knew were there, but wasn’t sure how they were accessed. More impressive was the fluidness of his motions, Idris was efficient and lethal that much was for sure.

In another time period Luke would have been more nervous of a man of Idris’s skill, however he had the slight advantage of seeing what others couldn’t. This ability to sense draw of metal was a highly guarded secret for Luke, while many would half expect it, he refused to let the skill be denied or confirmed. The last thing he needed was people to start carrying bone or wooden knives in hopes of avoiding his detection.

“No offense taken, I rarely drop my guard so I wouldn’t expect others to.”

Moments after Idri’s began to take off his armor Luke’s eyes shoot to the window. Standing suddenly he closed and latched the frame before pulling the curtains closed. The cloth was thin enough to allow light to trickle through while remaining thick enough to obscure the room from sight.

Out in the swamp there were few eyes, so Luke could more openly be himself. However in the first district spies were almost guaranteed and with Kalkofen on his scent the last thing he needed was someone able to confirm Idris, or worse suspect him of engaging in any kind of intimacies.

Faypine was not known for its kindness to such relationships, choosing to keep to old falcon traditions it was openly shamed and even cause for execution if caught. It had been Faypine’s homophobic behavior that had first drawn Luke to the practice of attacking social faux pas. These attacks worked well to de-rail conversations and make those around him uncomfortable.

However as things so often were for Luke, the act was only partial. He had long since been experimenting with his feelings and had started up a dangerous relationship with an up and coming Falcon. Mitch had been a childhood friend, and while Luke suspected something, it wasn’t until the two were assigned to border patrols that Mitch had opened up.

With the falcon like stiff upper lip and Luke’s goof around behavior few suspected more than friendship between the two. But mistakes were made and it had taken the combined influence of both Ross and Kalkofen to sway the Council to look the other way.

‘Luke has always been a sucker for those who are willing to help him or treat him as equal, should come as no surprise that he has allowed such events to occur.’ It had been passed off as a phase, with the additional comment of ‘a display of falcon domination over an elemental.’

Mitch had always insisted they were equals, had always treated him with respect and kindness when they were alone. However the close call had caused him to distance himself and at times even become aggressive towards Luke in public.

‘A display of falcon dominance?!’ Luke could still remember hearing the frustration and anger in his voice at calling Mitch out for a particularly public incident in which Mitch had forcibly made Luke disarm and bow to a council member, the very one who had just months prior labeled the relationship as such.

The relationship had only deteriorated farther in the following months, finally ending with a fight sparred from an unfortunate comment were Mitch had insisted Luke owe him by nature of what he was. The fight had been the last time the two had spoken before Luke blew up the arena and fled to Alec for help. He could still remember looking into Alec’s eyes with such desperation as he explained the situation, Alec had been his last hope and last friend in the world.

He had half expected Alec to turn him away, or perhaps even kill him with the knowledge that it would be more humane then whatever Faypine had planned. To find a friend, even a refuge in Esterbrush had forever drawn loyalty to the Earth elemental. A favor Luke could never pay back and a guilt for causing the series of events that led to his arena downfall.

Now here he was, flirting with a man, well knowing the danger this kind of affection could cause. Alec’s eyes had shown disapproval which further left Luke torn. He needed Idris’s help, he was willing to do whatever it took to thank him for it. But at what cost? His damaged relationship with Mitch had him bowing to Idris as a master and his burning desperation to somehow pay Alec back for his protection made him hesitant to do something that so clearly bothered him.

Sitting back on the bed he let his attention fall to Idris, concern painted all over his face. He didn’t know how to talk to him, and didn’t want to risk offending. So instead he decided to just stay quiet and follow the snake’s lead. There was little chance of this being more than a fling, over before it had begun. He could find a way to apologies to Alec later. Perhaps he would even understand, what with the value of venom and all. Sighing he let the though fall from his mind, his gaze on Idris as he sprawled on the bed beside him.

“Few people are more to your taste?” Luke repeated. He felt himself become distant before dropping into an extremely submissive mind set. He lay arm’s length away from him now and everything about Idris’s posture shown self-restraint. Was it fear that kept the snake at bay or the knowledge that Luke feared touch? Regardless Luke looked to Idris for guidance in the situation.

[Oriel]

"Few people look at me like you do," he amended. "When you look at me, that is."

Idris rolled onto his side, in part to face Luke and in part to test the boundaries of closeness that the elemental would allow. Thus invited into his space, they were both of them navigating previously uncharted territory.

"We had a rough beginning," he said, his eyes searching in the relative darkness of the room. "I'd like to try again with fewer witnesses. Marry is a wonderful person, as are both of my siblings, but most of what I have to say belongs only to you, and that to be held or given away as you see fit."

"So." He offered his hand with a slow, easily predicted motion. "I'm Idris."

He lowered his voice as if they were at risk of being overheard. "You've been staring, so I thought I might offer you a closer look."

Well, he thought, in for a drop in for a dram.

[Redsparrow]

It was in the way Idris minded his fears, cared for his injuries, spoke to him like an equal and looked at him like a lover. Luke was so taken aback by the warmness behind this voice paired with those eyes that he gawked at the man for a moment before finding a response. With a lump in his throat over the affection he chose to skirt the comments all together favoring the introduction. So reached out and every so slowly placed his hand in Idris’s.

“Richard Lucius Ashmore, like many in my predicament it’s a title of breeding and not a name. My mother knew this and called me Luke, after her side of the family. The name caught on in Snowden and became my common calling card. A short time after her death I was transferred back to Faypine and reluctantly given to my father’s care. He of course chose to call me Rich after his side, since Luke had been so associated with my mother I was glad to go by another name if only to escape the loss I associated to it.”

He noticed that the greeting of a hand shake was lasting longer than intended. His palm rested on Idris’s soft skin, fingertips extended comfortably up the golden flesh and jet black scales of the snake’s wrist. Slowly, affectionately he curled his index finger under the palm of his hand, running it a small circle at the base of Idris’s thumb.

“Rich became my Faypine name. It wasn’t until the war between Faypine and Snowden that my worlds began to meet.” Almost without thinking Luke slide his hand up Idris’s arm ever so slightly, as he eased himself closer. “Years at Snowden gave me inside to working out a lasting treaty, so I became involved politically. When the war finally ended and my career as an up and coming candidate for the council began, I dropped my father’s name for my mothers. In doing so I was able to effectively distance myself from the man people associated with fire and death in the arena for a more cultured political figure who had helped to end a war.”

Luke’s story concluded with a pleasant half smile accompanied by a gaze. “So, call me Luke, all my friends do.” The prospect of a closer look at Idris, who was already wearing a shirt that left little to imagination was both an inviting and terrifying prospect. On one hand was a chance at affection after years of isolation, something that had haunted Luke more than any memory or pain. On the other was the bitter taste of slavery and debt to another, be it hotter master.

“Idris I need to ask you something.” Luke had hardly noticed moving, yet found himself within half an arm’s length of the figure. “Is this the kind of payment you want for venom?” It was the best way he could think to ask of the meaning behind these actions and words.

[Oriel]

Luke's account of his past in both Snowden and Faypine matched with the history written in the official files, though the framing of the story as a dance of two worlds added an element Idris had not yet considered. Here was a man who was connected to none of them by strict choice. His heritage was one of slavery to traditional masters. The one attempt to move beyond that, to be a leader and a council member, had ended in a failure that marked the beginning of a long and bitter reversal that in the end spiraled wide enough to reach Alec in Esterbrush.

The question about payment for his venom brought him up short. At the time he'd made the original declaration he'd assumed that Luke would know the meaning of the gesture. Now, he was not so sure.

The relief of his narrow escape and their rapid flight through the underbelly of Faypine had thrown them together with a result as inevitable as breathing. In the moments when Luke had needed him to be a cobra healer, he'd assumed that role along with the code which governed every action.

One could not be separated from the other, no matter how the viper operatives scoffed. They admired the power of the black cobra and discounted the healer as a weakness.

"I meant what I said to you last night," he began. "That I would accept no payment from you."

Idris drew strength from Luke's hand on his arm. He'd be strung on a rack before he admitted to the vipers that they might have been right to scorn the healer.

"If we were in Esterbrush and before witnesses, that gesture has a meaning. A cobra who uses those words is choosing to decline all traditional exchanges for venom. Serpent medicine costs dear outside of Esterbrush because there have always been fewer cobras than people who want treatment. Even at home, cases are evaluated individually before cobra healers are assigned. The traditional exchanges are remnants of a time in the past when cobras risked their lives to heal rather than kill."

"Payment was offered in advance to the healer, often by a clan chief, and the ceremonies involved were long and elaborate," he explained. "Because a cobra is most vulnerable when venomchanging. It is physically and mentally exhausting to heal. The exchanges exist in order to protect the healer and to bind the patient to the serpent for the safety of both."

"The original meaning of those payments is still current today. Among close family, the exchange is usually a token gift of food or some other small trinket. Discarding the traditional protections for someone who is not blood-related is seen as a-"

Idris balked at putting words to the meaning. How to begin to make sense of it for a man who had not grown up with cobras?

"A wish to trust and be trusted," he said at last. "A cobra who offers this does not want the obligations of venom to come between them and the person to whom the offer is made. Because of the history of exchange, it is seen as a recklessly romantic thing to do."

"I meant it when I said it," he added, buoyed by Luke's touch at his wrist. "And I still own the meaning, in every sense of the phrase."

[Redsparrow]

Many things came to mind as he listens to Idris explain the ways of Cobra society and the tradition of venom giving. Most prominently was the thought that he had been skirted a chance at better understanding this society by more than one person. As an individual who derived most of his influence from knowledge of social norms it had always spurred him the wrong way to be unaware of most of Esterbrush rituals. While he had never imagined the lack of knowledge to be crippling he now faced the reality of stepping into something rather unpleasant.

"I had no idea." Luke muttered, as he swore out Alec under his breath. "I have read about Esterbrush, well all that I could find on it while dealing with the boarder skirmishes. I was privy of the value of venom and to some extent the rituals around giving it. I knew well enough the challenge my peers faced in trying to get help for me but honestly know little about the personal lives of cobras."

Luke could still vividly remember spending long periods of time locked away in various falcon's personal studies reading every book he could find on Esberbrush. Most were of old rituals and of the time when Black Cobras, as they were called, ruled like tyrants over their peers. Esterbrush's history was rich and well documented, however current economic and political happenings were less accessible. Most of which was kept behind lock and key during the short war waged between the two small nations.

That had been the time when Kern, Luke and Mitch found themselves locked in a brutal competition. Harris, the commander of Faypine's army was known to be stepping down within the year and subsaqentally was looking for a replacement. Kern and Mitch were both prime candidates and saw the war as a way to get a leg up in the competition.

'A good general, if there ever were such a thing is surly to rise to this occasion.' The man had called to his ranks, giving each candidate a chance to impress on the boarders.

Luke had often wondered if the war had been sparred as a test to see who among the squawking lot was best fit for command. However he rose quickly to the opportunity to provide yet another example of his political potential. Snowden had been an old home of his, so peace, while difficult to obtain was some what expected from the Elemental. The chance to bring peace between Esterbrush and Faypine was to strong of a call, and would be sure to seal the deal of securing a council position.

Further more was Alec's patients with Luke, who spent the better half of his time trying to learn all he could about Esterbrush from the man. The war was frivolous and looked to last some time, giving Luke all the time needed to gather informational about trade, culture, economics and most importantly Alec Greenheart. While Alec wasn't of high political standing he was of an adopted family of influence. Perhaps through Alec, Luke could have found the means to end the war and for both nations to benefit. However it wasn't to be. Instead the fire elemental found his life spiraling out of control, in all of one short year everything he had worked for was taken away.

As one door slammed shut Luke found another, a friendship, a partnership with Alec Greenheart. And now this, whatever this was. His eyes carefully followed the figure of the man next to him. The cool touch of skin against his forearm. It was all a relief to which Luke viably relaxed, courtship was something Luke was use to, even a master of. If Idris was looking to court him then the game would be fair, even fun. Nothing like the crippling debt he feared the snake to be previously hinting at.

"A hopeless romantic then?" Luke cued in a teasing yet playful tone. "So tell me Idris my love, what exactly do you hope to obtain from this chance set of circumstances?"

With the pressure off, Luke had all but forgotten the fear that was sure to rear at a sudden movement or loving touch. Cards on the table, if Luke was to ever accept another, Idris had all the advantages. Male, and shifter, it was the two safest bets. Luke realizing this, was a more than willing victim to his own terror, so began to egg on the cobra with an open posture and flirtatious sparkle to his eyes.

As he moved to act on the moment he once more noted the tiredness of the snake and eased back onto his side of the bed. "Shame you need your rest."

[Oriel]

"Reckless, not hopeless," Idris added, his breath drawn short. His answers to the other half of the question were better left to silence and dreams. What he hoped to gain and what he would admit to wanting lay as far apart as the deserts of Esterbrush and the pine forests of Snowden.

"I'll take what I'm offered a day at a time," he said, his hand curled in Luke's. A handsbreadth farther above the wrist, beyond the smooth skin of his forearm, lay the deeper furrows of knife scars. No one fought and survived as long as he had without being marked. The new recruits had only their training callouses, while he and the other field agents could recount their successes or failures as written in their flesh.

Fail here, now, or move with too little warning, and he'd have more than cuts to nurse.

Exhaustion broke over him in a wave.

"I've been awake for going on three days now," he admitted. "Closer to four than I'd like." Idris sank further into the bedclothes and closed his eyes. "I just-" The words roughened into nonsense as he dozed, at first still near wakefulness, but then lost to a deeper sleep.