milliways_bar | (no subject)

There's a pretty androgynous youth by the fire, singing to himself in the Elven tongue. A cup of sweet watered wine in hand, he seems preoccupied with teaching himself the song by repeating it over and over, tasting the shape of the words as he paces to and fro.

That's something you don't see often.
(Plenty of things are very obvious to a sensitive nose, lack of hormones for example).

So Eric watches him.

The soft white shift doesn't do much to hide the other effects of what he lacks - the small, soft breasts. And a high, clear voice which Eric will hear easily enough, even across the crowded room.

His scent is that of clean skin and modern soaps, and flowers twisted in his hair. And just the slightest lingering hint of sex.

It's a good scent.
Very nice.

Eric turns a little in his seat, so he can study him more closely.
He looks like the real deal.

Interesting.

Sinric pauses to sip his wine, unaware of being watched. He should be more careful, more alert but away from the dangers and intrigues of the court, it's restful to let his guard down a little.

And it has been such a confusing day. He licks a bead of wine from his lips and sets the cup down, shaking the hair back from his face as he looks up from his preoccupation.

At straight at Eric. There something about those piecing blue eyes that startles him and he takes a half step back.

"Good evening," Eric says.
Pleasantly enough.

His blond hair is combed back as usual and he is wearing work clothes. Black, tight jeans, a tighter, black tank top, and black boots.

"And to you, sir." He ducks something more a curtsy than a bow, lowering his eyes. He feels a small spike of fear run through him, though he doesn't know why.

Now, that's more like it.

Eric smiles.

"New here?"

He looks new. He smells new.

"Yes, sir. I can here only this dawn." Very new, so new no-one has really explained to rules or given him reason to trust that he's safe here. And he isn't sure he's safe now.

"You've been told this is hallowed ground?"

He looks like he might not know.

He shakes his head, minutely. A tiny flicker of a gesture.

" No killing, no vengeance and no fucking in the main room," Eric says, studying his fingernails.

No killing doesn't mean no violence and no fucking in the main room doesn't mean other rooms are safe. Things he knows all too well from palace life. "Thank you for telling me, sir. I will keep to those rules."

Trust Eric to spin things the way he likes them.

"My names Eric. And you don't look like you're the sort to seek out people to cut their heads off."

Sinric giggles softly in spite of himself. "No, sir. I am enemy to no man." He holds his hands out in a placating gesture of helpless fragility. "I am called Oriens."

"Hmm," Eric says, looking at him.
"Greek?"

His pronunciation is good if somewhat accented.

"Of Byzantium." He answers in flawless Greek, switching language fluidly. "Servant to the court of Constantine the fifth."

"Really. Fascinating," Eric purrs.
He can just imagine what kind of duties this servant performs.
"I was born in the North myself, but I don't live there anymore."

He switches to the language of the Danes, as it is spoken by the Varangians of the palace guard. "The northmen are known and respected in the city of Constantinople. As warriors of great skill and astute traders."

"I never made it that Far East myself," he tells him in a language close enough to the Danish tongue to be understood.

"And I lived after your time. A hundred years or two, I should think."

"And I have never yet travelled to the north lands of the Vikings. But I hope to, one day." He cocks his head. "I am of the year 772."

He nods.
"I was born later than that. But I heard traders and warriors tell of Konstantins city."

He lowers his eyes. "It will be Leo's city before long." And there's fear in those words. Fear of the future.

"And Leo isn't in favor of eunuchs?"

He shakes his head, not surprised to be recognised for what he is. He's more surprised when people don't. He has lived most of his life in the palace where everyone knows what the little birds are for.

"Co-emperor Leo has no love for his father's... perversions."