marlowemuses | Ancient Carthage Dreamed in Blood

from here.

Ashley had never seen so many dogs in one place, and had never imagined that there would be so many dogs in the entire city of Carthage. There were so many of them, in all shapes and sizes, some sweet and affectionate and others ferocious and designed to kill. Ashley could remember encountering a total of four dogs in his life until now, so the large kennels seemed to him to hold all the variety of the world.

He made friends easily with the good-tempered dogs near the entrance, delighting in their energy and enthusiasm, even once they realized that he had brought no treats for them. But the danger of the more ferocious dogs drew him. He exerted his will over them without realizing that he did it, since he had spent all his life spoiled and loved, and simply expected that it was the natural order of things that all creatures should fawn over him.

Looking up at Mago's entrance, Ashley's eyes widened with hope, grateful to see him and wanting to earn his approval. He had imprinted upon Mago as his anchor in this new life. Zyabqot was his new master and deserved his obedience and trust, but it was Mago's attention that he craved.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject