marlowemuses | Ancient Carthage Dreamed in Blood

A couple of the dogs reacted to Mago's entrance with clear excitement, getting up and rushing to the front of the kennels, tails wagging, to greet him.

With a chuckle, the ghoul went to greet them, scratching behind a ear here, petting a head there, greeting them by name and with a few words each. He did make his way over to Ashley slowly, though.

"I see they have grown quite fond of you already."

"I like animals," Ashley said. "They do not care whether I am beautiful."

He ruffled the ears of one of the dogs, hugging it close and feeling grateful for the warmth and affection of the creature. "I did not know there were so many dogs in all of Carthage. I have never seen a building devoted to dogs before. I did not know it was done."

"You do not seem to know many things." There is no malice or reproach in his voice, it's only a statement.

He'll sit down, and within a minute the dogs around them have settled down as well, crowding around the two men in equal measure.

"I haven't seen you in a while. How have you settled in?"

"I haven't left my room," Ashley explained, continuing to dote upon the dogs because it gave him comfort. Dogs were so simple and kind. It was soothing. "I feel much better. Rested. I've done little other than read or sleep."

He stared into space for a few moments, lost in thought, and then swiveled his head toward Mago. "This place is what you promised. I am glad that you brought me." He offered a smile, which lasted for a heartbeat and then flickered.

"I'm glad you like it here." He grins back easily, his smile not wavering when Ashley's does. "It's a good place, and you're in an excellent position in it." In part simply because of who he is, and in part... it isn't his place to make too many assumptions about his lady's plans, though he does hope that it will be eventually. But he can't but wonder about what her plans with Ashley are.

"Am I?" Ashley asks, half oblivious. He supposes he should speak again to Zyabqot now that he is feeling more lucid.

How strange it is that his nature as a vampire makes him worthy of respect. And there's the matter of his inheritance...

Ashley shakes his head, wanting to put off those thoughts as long as possible. But there aren't many other thoughts to take their place. He cannot leave and is not sure he dares risk flirting or establishing himself in Zyabqot's court until he speaks with her again. "I suppose I should meet with your lady again. I was... as you know. When I first arrived."

"I know." He simply said. It hadn't been hard to notice. Though he wasn't perfectly sure what exactly Ashley's issue had been, it certainly had been blatant that the young vampire had been rather besides himself.

"And you should, I would assume, if you feel up to it and to a proper conversation." Word travelled fast in the house, especially about those whom the house revolved around. Everyone would know if one of the kitchen maids had a crush on a stable boy, but everyone would know about it in much more detail if it'd been one of the vampires who had the same.

"Yes."

Ashley presses his face into a dog's shoulder, hiding in fur and the curtain of his own hair so he has a moment to think, to feel lost and vulnerable and uncertain. He doesn't know what his place is here, and doesn't know what place he wants to make for himself. But he supposes that he ought to speak to Zyabqot in order to sort it out.

Lifting his head again, Ashley sighs, drawing himself up with a little bit more confidence. "Yes. I will. What is the accepted way to... to request a conversation with her?"

This place is so different to his home. Ashley doesn't know any of the behavioral norms.

"If you wish to see her tonight, I can see if a message can be relied to her. If you don't mind waiting, she, as most others of her standing, holds a meeting every evening after waking up to which all who are under her patronage may come if they are able."

He doesn't move, only watches Ashley as he speaks.

Ashley nods. That makes sense to him, and he expects that he can tell one of the servants to ensure he wakes up on time. "I'll do that. Thank you."

He feels achingly lonely, in a way that is somehow worse than when it was a part of the madness, or when he was a part of his father's court. Then, at least, he had Arkady, or the deluded belief that Arkady would return to him.

He wants to befriend Mago. More than that, too, but he doesn't know if even friendship is an option. "How do you spend your days here?"

Mago blinks at the question, surprised and not entirely sure what the purpose of it is. He doesn't think that he's ever been asked that by a vampire, at least not like this - he doubts that Ashley is trying to feel out some business or the other that his lady is currently conducting, he doesn't know enough yet to use such minor information from what he can tell. He might be asking to see if he has time to do something else, but... what else?

"Why do you ask?"

Mago's response makes Ashley feel that he's misstepped, and he focuses his eyes on the fur of the dog before him. Combing his nails through the soft fur calms him a little. "I don't know the ways of the court. I don't know what's normal. I want to know more about you."

Maybe that is what this was. Insecurity, and ...genuine interest in him? Thinking about it, he must have been the first person that Ashley had seen in quite some time, and the first person in even longer than that who had offered some semblance of stability.

"I was just surprised because your kind doesn't tend to show that much personal interest in my kind." He shrugs, a bit awkwardly, and follows it up with a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, it's not that I mind. I just wondered why you were asking. Why you want to know more." There's this oddly companionable feeling that he's getting about Ashley, and he's not sure how to deal with it, both in the short and in the long run. He'll just play it by ear, probably, that's the best he can do.

Ashley's hand keeps moving through the dog's fur, half entranced by the motion, as the dog twitches blissfully beneath his touch. He wants Mago to like him, to be fascinated by his beauty and to be fond of his peculiarities. The feeling makes him skittish, because he's not at all sure that it's a possibility. Mago has important duties, and Ashley is ignorant and a burden. He's no longer the jewel of his father's court, and doesn't know how to cope with his place in a world that requires more responsibility of him.

He toys with his potential reactions carefully, trying to decide which would provide the best result. He doesn't know Mago well enough to have any idea how to charm him.

"I want you to like me," Ashley says, with careful, vulnerable honesty.

That's... He's really not sure how to respond to it.

He wants to ask why, again, but is sure that another why would break something fragile, something that is already close to the breaking point, so he just nods.

He wants him to like him, and that's why... "I don't know what to respond to that," he finally answers, with an honestly that is as careful as Ashley's but also cautious and a bit worried, because there are so many ways in which he can misstep in this situation, probably. "But I can tell you more about me, if you want?" That should be safe, at least, and should be something, an offer as small and big as he dares to make.

Ashley nods, accepting the offer. He glances over shyly, eyes lingering on Mago. Curious. Fascinated. Yearning.

Though he doesn't have the words for it, he knows that he needs someone to focus on, fascinate upon, so that he feels less adrift. Zyabqot is too busy, too important, and too distant. Mago is just right--with some power and influence of his own and yet within Ashley's reach.

"Well... What do you want to hear?" He has some time on his hands, his duties for tonight are done and there's plenty of time before he needs to go to bed. He'll have to go eat something later, but that's about it.

"How do you spend your time? What sort of things do you like? Do you read? What sort of stories do you like? What sort of people do you like?" The flood of questions spills out all at once, and Ashley quickly shuts his mouth to prevent a dozen further questions, in order to not overwhelm his... friend?

Ashley frets at his lower lip, watching Mago closely, wanting to capture every tiny detail of what he does and says.

Mago tried to catch all the questions, but in the end decided to just start with the ones that seemed the easiest to answer. Not that any of them were easy to answer, strictly.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "I fear I do not like to read the way you might. I only learned it late, when I was an adult already, and it still doesn't come to me very easily, so I only do it if I must. Perhaps with time, I will come to like it more, but for now..." He shakes his head. "I like riding, and all kinds of activities involving dogs. The hunt, and going to sea." He grins, and there is a teasing, flirtatious spark to his words that comes too easily and naturally to him to catch it in time and suppress it in a company where he probably shouldn't let it seep into his next words. "And dancing, if there is a beautiful woman or a handsome man to lead into the dance." ...Yeah, that probably wasn't good, and he continues quickly: "And most of my time is spent running my lady's errands, I would say, in one way or the other."

"I like to dance," Ashley tells him, relaxing and studying Mago with a more open interest now that he's getting answers to his questions. He shifts to sit cross-legged, and another dog immediately climbs into his lap and presses close to be petted and hugged. "I've never been to sea. I could read to you, if you like."

He indulges, briefly, in the thought of dancing with Mago. It's an appealing prospect.

"What sort of stories do you like?"

What kind of stories does he like - it's not strictly the question itself that is so hard to answer, it's the quiet honesty in Ashley's words and just what he is, and trying to respond appropriately.

"I used to love stories about heroes - half-gods or men with special powers, daring everything - when I was a child. I think I'll listen to mostly everything these days, as long as it isn't too terribly philosophical."

"I'll find some for you," Ashley promises. "And I can read them to you. I like mostly dreadful stories, full of horrors and frightening, hungry monsters."

He presses his face into the fur of the dog in his lap, hugging it tight until it squirms in objection and Ashley forces himself to be gentler. "Do you have a lover?"

"Well, we can try those and I can tell you if I like them after."

The next question gives him pause and then he laughs, though the laugh is more a gesture of airing his confusion.

It is also harder to answer than it should be. Because Hanno isn't his lover, nowhere close to it, they are just ...what was the word? Friends with benefits? Very good friends, and friends first, though.

So in the end, he shakes his head. "Not really, no."

"Me neither," Ashley says, though he understands that's probably obvious. He has no one, aside from the connections provided by Zyabqot's protection.

Gently dislodging the dog from his lap, Ashley rises to his feet and dusts himself off. "Will you show me around the court and grounds? Would that be appropriate?"

It's a new concept, trying to be careful of the social norms of the court. Previously, Ashley was concerned only with how to avoid displeasing his father or brother, and otherwise gave no thought to his behavior.

"It would.

Come with me." Ragnar smiles at Ashley and gets up as well in a simple, minimal motion that speaks of him having had fighting training at some point. "As long as you don't seem to be, well, stealing someone else's ghouls, your spending time with one of us won't offend anyone. As long as you don't do it too often.

And since you are now functionally my regnant's childe, it would be expected that you make use of her ghouls to a certain degree, anyway."

"I understand." Ashley makes careful note of that, turning it over in his head to consider what he wants of Ragnar and how to proceed. He still needs more information, but he's learning fast.

He falls into step beside Ragnar, lifting his chin and pulling his shoulders back. He is royalty here. Beauty and grace is not sufficient. He must behave regally, as well. He makes his posture like his mother's at her most dignified, his father's at his most gracious.

He gives his hair a toss, smoothing it down to check for stray bits of hay from the stables. "Let's go."

Ragnar smiles Ashley as the other man pulls himself together, clearly trying to aim for a specific kind of representation. It's good to see that the vampire that feels a bit like ...well, like his godchild, though he wouldn't be able to put that name to it himself, try to find his place and incorporate his words at that. And he's got a good feeling about this; Ashley should get the hang of it soon enough.

"Let me..." he reaches over to pluck small pieces of hair from the long red hair in places that Ashley likely cannot see.

Ashley ducks his head to allow the touch, shy and submissive as Mago checks him over. "Thank you," he says, basking in the attention. Once it has finished, he lifts his chin again, all pride. His eyes still linger on Mago more frequently than they should, but he otherwise keeps himself regal and aloof. When they speak to others on the tour, Ashley's manners are pretty and elegant, though sometimes there's a note of wheedling petulance that shows through, and other times Ashley falters entirely, mind slipping back into the lost, half-mad child that he was at first. That always takes a few moments for him to recover, and he hovers closer to Mago for reassurance whenever it happens.

Time passes; the household continues the same way it has been functioning for many decades, and Ashley is integrated into it more and more. Zyabqot introduces him to some local allies and dignitaries both human and vampire, starts to teach him about accounting, seafaring and other items important to their business, starts to explain both human and vampire society, orders Mago to start and teach Ashley the basics of various ways of fighting with and without weapons, and everyone around seems to be getting used to the new household member.

It's been over a month when Ragnar shows up one evening, knocking at Ashley's door with a grin and an air about him that doesn't speak of picking him up for fighting or other practical lessons.

"There's a festival in the city," he explains when Ashley opens, "and the lady would not mind if we took the night off. Would you like to come?"

Ashley blossoms under Zyabqot's guidance. Though he still falters and struggles often, emotional facilities permanently handicapped by his upbringing, Ashley has natural strengths in intelligence and charm. He learns most of the scholarly topics quickly, and adapts even more quickly to the social niceties expected of him. The combat lessons are more of a struggle. Ashley's attention wanders and his interest lags. He tries to focus in order to please Mago, but it's clear that he has no interest or aptitude for combat aside from the inherent gifts of his bloodline.

The young man who opens the door is almost unrecognizable in comparison to the wild, half-mad creature that Mago found starving to death in a remote manor. Clean and composed, fingers ink-stained, Ashley looks like a wealthy young scholar. His hair is pulled forward over one shoulder, which is the best way Ashley's found to keep it out of his eyes as he reads, since he still refuses to tie it back or cut it. He favors white shirts and black trousers, simple styles in expensive fabrics, and the simplicity of it sets off the radiant beauty of his face and the exotic color of his hair.

He smiles at the sight of Mago. Around Mago, he has more tendency to show shy submissiveness, while around most others he has developed confidence and even a sense of command. Ducking his head a little, Ashley gives him a shy but delighted grin. "I'd like that."

Mago isn't quite sure of what to do with the shy submissiveness, but he mostly just rolls with it. It's not like he minds, at least not as long as people don't start talking too much. It's ...nice, really, especially with how the other option seems to develop more and more into Ashley showing a fairly dominant and commanding attitude towards most others.

"Excellent.

Do you wish to change before we head out?" Mago's own clothes are already adjusted to the event - clean, fresh, not the most elaborate but nicer than what Ashley would see him wear normally when he's around horses or the sparring area.

"This is fine." Ashley shakes his head, though he does turn away to fetch a cloth and scrub some of the ink from his fingers, checking to make sure he has no ink on his face. He takes a delicate set of combs from his jewelry box, tucking them into his hair with a dangling chain that hangs between them from the back, ornamenting the long red fall of his hair with a glitter of silver and crystal.

The expensive ornament signals nobility and wealth, while the simplicity of his garment speaks of freedom. He's starting to learn better how to signify these things, and to use his appearance for more subtle social manipulations. He wants to show off just enough to draw admiration, but not enough that anyone might see him as a threat.

Tossing his hair to check the fall of it once he's finished, Ashley returns to Mago's side, ready to set out. "Are we going with an entourage, or is it just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us." He barely keeps himself from reaching out, wanting to run a hand through Ashely's hair, but he does manage not to and instead just holds the door for him. It would have been highly inappropriate.

"There is no reason to expect any trouble," and if, nothing bigger than they can handle, "and it will be perfectly appropriate to have only one person with you."

Edited 2017-09-25 13:56 (UTC)

"Good." Ashley flashed him a smile, pleased by the response. "That would be my preference."

He stayed close by Mago's side as they left Zyabqot's residence. Chin slightly tucked but eyes alert to his surroundings, maintaining a careful balance between confident poise and dutiful obedience to his host. He belongs in Zyabqot's household, and wants to be sure to offer no challenge. He wants his position under her protection to be secure.

Only once they reach the relative freedom of the street outside does he relax a little more. As striking as Ashley is, he's not known in the city aside from a few of Zyabqot's acquaintances. He can be freer and less careful with his behavior.

"Am I allowed to hold your arm?" Ashley asks. He's been careful to refrain from touching, painfully aware of all the social cues and signals that he's learned. He understands that Mago belongs to Zyabqot, that he's bound to her, and if Ashley shows more than reasonable attachment to his favorite ghoul, it could indicate challenge or disobedience to Zyabqot's authority, and Ashley doesn't yet have a clear understanding of what is and isn't allowed.

"I wouldn't think that there should be an issue. We don't want to get separated, do we?"

He holds out his arm a bit, speaking while he's still mulling over the implications. He'd rather not make Ashley feel insecure about all of this.

"...And I'm sure it would be appropriate for reasons of support and security in many areas, too?"

Most of all, Ashley should have fun tonight. Be a bit more free. And properly see the city, tonight when most people won't look twice at others, too busy with their own fun and other activities, the crowds too thick to pay attention to everyone.

As soon as he had permission, Ashley was happy to take Mago's arm. He grins at the freedom and pleasure of it. Tonight, he has Mago all to himself. Never mind the crowds and the festival. All of that is trappings, if he gets to enjoy Mago's company and to learn more about him in a different setting.

Fascinated by all the noise and the festivities, Ashley looks around with wide eyes as they make their way through the streets. His grip is tight on Mago's arm, trusting to his guidance. He doesn't want to risk being separated from him, for more reasons than one.

Mago steers them through crowds that are thick enough to grant them anonymity but not thick enough to be claustrophobic, pointing out the sights and scents around them to Ashley in a voice low enough to easily be heard, but only by the other man.

"That over there, do you see the man with the blue wrappings around his head? He is from far to the east, up the coast to the east of this sea and down the silk road, you can see it in his face and the robes that he is wearing. He's selling spices, mostly, and all kinds of expensive amulets, though I'm not sure how effective or safe they are - and there, look, that man must be from Egypt, by the style of his coat." He continues on, pointing out wares offered and people milling about, at times pulling Ashley towards a stand selling things. Never food, for obvious reasons - it would be cruel to lead someone towards treats that he can't eat, and that's why Mago made sure to have eaten before heading out - but all kinds of other things are offered, too, mostly of the not-so-practical kind.

Edited 2017-11-02 20:19 (UTC)

Ashley laughs with awe and delight at the sights and explanations that Mago offers him. After his sheltered life, all of it is wondrous to him. Ashley has read about distant lands and foreign peoples, but he's never seen any of it.

He stays close by Mago's side, often stealing glances toward him in between gazing at the sights.

As fascinated as he is by it all, he's careful and obedient, staying close by Mago's side and only straying with permission when he tugs at Mago's arm to go and look at some sight or some booth. He buys a paper lantern, a little scented pillow, and a cloth charm that's supposed to bring love, and then gets distracted by a stall full of wooden carvings that has a lovely array of delicate combs. "Come on, let's go look," he coaxes, kissing Mago's cheek without thinking about what he's doing.

Mago goes bright red at the kiss, because - they have been close enough to each other to play with the impression of being a couple all night, yes, and he's sure that Ashley doesn't mean anything by it, but he still just got kissed by a gorgeous young man who's been very close by his side all evening, and as much as he knows that it would be a terrible idea to be turned on...

...Looks, he's a young man himself, all right? There's only so much you can do.

"Sure," he says quickly and disentangles himself a bit from Ashley under the guise of trying to manoeuvre them through the crowd more easily. He doubts that Ashley would have missed his reaction, and frankly wonders if it was intended, because Ashley is a vampire and they tend to never do anything fully without having thought of the consequences, from what he's observed, but then maybe that's not how they start out, and Ashley is still very young and inexperienced for his kind.

Ashley can't help but notice the way the blood rushing through Mago's veins suddenly rushes to the surface of his skin, heating his cheeks. It's fascinating, both to the impressionable young man who has never been in love and to the young vampire learning his own powers.

He keeps hold of Mago's hand as they weave their way toward the booth. As he looks at the combs, he thinks about it, and thinks that he should speak to Zyabqot to ask permission before he lets the infatuation go any farther. Mago belongs to her, in service and by blood, and even though Ashley is of her household, he suspects it would be inappropriate to take too many liberties without asking permission first.

He barely sees the beautiful combs in front of him, thinking instead about the way Mago's blood beats in his cheeks. Tomorrow, he thinks, or late tonight. He'll ask permission to charm and seduce, and take more care with his behavior until he's done so.

"Which one do you think?" Ashley asks, trying to bring his attention back to the carven combs on the table.

"For yourself or someone else?"

Mago concentrates as much as he can, bringing his attention to the combs and away from the man next to him. Silly, he chides himself, doing his best to push the arousal away. The old Gatekeeper naked, the old gatekeeper naked...

Those things never end well. He needs to make sure to not let his thoughts continue any further into that direction.

"For myself," Ashley says, automatically, because he always thinks of himself first. He picks up one of the combs and tucks it into his hair, shaking his head to feel how it lays against his scalp. "Your hair is too short," he adds, teasing, and flashes Mago a smile. He can't help it that his joy naturally shapes itself as flirtation, especially not when he wants more than anything to flirt with Mago. "Do you think Zyabqot would like a set? As a gift?"

That, at least is easy to answer to, even though he has no idea how to respond to the teasing. Of course his hair is too short, he likes to keep it that way. He's very much a physical person, at least in his off time, long hair would just be in the way.

"I honestly can't tell." He doesn't know Zyabqot that well. She's his regnant, and has been for some time, but it isn't strictly a personal relationship, as much as he tries to find out as much as he can about her and please her, and would like to know her that well.

"You probably have a better chance of finding out." And there is a bit of envy in his voice. As much as his love for his regnant might not be natural, it is still very much there.

"Then I will. I think it would be an appropriate gift." Ashley chooses a pair of ornamental combs carved from dark, reddish-brown wood in a pattern of sharp-petaled flowers and set with glinting black stones. He sets those aside while he considers the rest, taking up a fawn-colored styling comb carved with the shape of a running hound.

Clasping Mago's chin in one hand, Ashley combs through his hair, teasing it into a different style to see how it flatters his face and smiling at the result. He sets that with the others and pays the merchant for the three of them, tucking the pair for Zyabqot into the little bag that he'd bought along the way to carry his purchases, and giving the other to Mago. "I suppose you do at least comb your hair, though you do not wear the combs as I would."

His smile is relaxed and playful. Here at the festival, alone in a crowd with Mago, he feels free.

Ancient Carthage Dreamed in Blood

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I'm so sorry, I would have sworn I'd already replied to this!

well my lateness makes up for it I guess? /sob

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No need to respond if it's been too long, I'm clearing out my inbox after exams

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sorry I just haven't been in an Ashley mood all month, been neglecting my tags

not like I'm the fastest tagger either

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