Sanctuary, Part IV
Months between chapters... not cool. >_<; I got a bit stuck on this one, but finally forged through ^^;
- Part III
Sanctuary (Part IV)
Author: jenovan
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Notes: Originally, this was supposed to be the last chapter, with an Epilogue to wrap up, but the scene that occurs after the end of this section was growing into something way too long to include in this chapter, so! Chapter-break. ;P
Judging from the surprised and gratified expressions on the faces of some of the younger temple folk, supper was grander than usual. Amadeo figured that the temple was going all out for their guests (or more specifically, for Andelis). Once again, he wondered at the minstrel's true role within the faith -- the underpriestess who had begun to interrogate him had referred to the musician as "honored Andelis", which seemed a bit exalted for a simple traveling songster, no matter how strong his devotion. But he seemed to have no true title or rank, just an enormous amount of respect and affection from the priestesses. Perhaps it was simply their fondness of him from his previous visit here -- or may his beauty simply demanded such treatment from Sune's people.
Whatever the case, they ate very well that night, not on hearty, heavy foods, but on light, flavorful dishes meant to appeal to the senses. The temple folk asked many questions about Andelis's travels, which he answered with a storyteller's flair. When the inevitable question arose of how he met Amadeo, however, he glossed over the details, simply saying that a demon had captured him, and Amadeo had bravely rescued him. The assassin accepted the praise he received somewhat uncomfortably, but, as he expected, that was simply taken for modesty. Thankfully, he was asked few questions, although he was aware of many admiring glances cast his way. He wondered if the fact that Andelis had "claimed" him would prevent any... friendly advances... from the Sunites this evening. He could only hope -- but then, he had no idea what the minstrel's plans for the evening were; perhaps he had some private assignations in mind, which would leave Amadeo at loose ends.
"Would you grace us with a performance this evening?" Emalia was asking Andelis, who was sitting in the place of honor at her right hand.
"I would be honored to, Lady Emalia," the man replied with a modest smile. "I'll consult with Priestess Halessa after the meal." He nodded to one of the older priestesses, who Amadeo surmised was in charge of entertainment or the like.
"The honor will be ours, I'm sure," Emalia countered, smiling a bit coyly. Clearly, having such a recital in their temple was a credit to their prestige.
The conversation turned to other topics as the meal progressed, and finally, the dessert plates were cleared away by the novices. Emalia rose from her seat, and at that signal, the other Sunites began to disperse. Andelis sidled up to Amadeo and spoke to him quietly. "I'm going to speak with the other musicians, and go to change clothes. Why don't you look around the gardens? This is when the evening shows begin."
Amadeo restrained the urge to roll his eyes -- how many time was the minstrel going to change clothes today? But he knew this was important to Andelis, and a courtesy to their hosts. "All right."
Andelis gave him a bright smile and left in a swirl of blue and gold to find Priestess Halessa, leaving the tiefling to make his way to the elaborate gardens alone.
On clear nights like tonight, the temple grounds were open to the public, both to share the beauty of the place, and to perhaps win a few converts. Well-dressed strangers (scruffy supplicants and potential troublemakers were turned away at the gate) strolled the paths and chatted with the priestesses and novices of the temple. A poet was already seated at the front of the small performing area in the center of the garden, reciting a free-form verse in praise of, it seemed, a beautiful flowering tree. Amadeo wondered if it was all an elaborate metaphor for a woman, but he didn't truly feel like listening intently enough to discern the truth of the matter. Instead, he drifted away from the little amphitheater, stopping here and there to look at the few flowers hardy enough to bloom in this earliest part of the spring. Many of the other well-tended shrubs showed signs of waking from winter, but it would be more than a moon before they were ready to flower.
More than once, he veered away from little sheltered nooks behind the hedges and trees; quiet murmurs and the occasional giggle or gasp indicated that some of the Sunites and their guests for the evening had already retired to their own amusements. He had no intention of interrupting anyone's fun -- or of being invited to join in. A few of the women, and one man, though he was not one of the temple folk, had given him enticing looks already, but he had demurred each time. If he had been traveling alone, perhaps he might have indulged; these were not dangerous people, and their company was truly pleasant. But, he had to admit to himself, he didn't want to risk hurting his companion's feelings by seeking other lovers, especially when he had repeatedly deflected Andelis's advances.
Then again, he had no idea if that would even bother Andelis. These folk seemed free enough with their affection, and the fact that the minstrel had "claimed" him didn't seem to deter them. Still, he wasn't comfortable with the idea, and the Sunites did not press their attentions when they were unwanted. Left to his own devices, Amadeo continued to wander the garden, staying within earshot of the central stage.
After the poet's recital ended, someone played a haunting melody in a minor key on a wooden flute; when that ended to quiet, but fervent, applause, the next performer offered a staccato chiming of finger cymbals.
A dance? Hmm. The Seeker was no connoisseur of words or song, but he greatly appreciated the artistry of movement. As he made his way back to the stage, he saw he was not the only one drawn in by the teasing of the little chimes.
Well, beauty is an article of faith for them, and there is certainly beauty in dance, Amadeo thought. A small group of musicians was settling on the side of the area, leading most of the stage clear for the dancer. Clad in soft, silken trousers and a sleeveless tunic, the dancer stood in an effortlessly elegant slouch that the tiefling recognized immediately.
He had never seen Andelis dance for the sake of performance before. The light-footed minstrel had taken part in lively group or partnered dances in the occasional small-town party, but nothing like what would be expected here. The Seeker realized that he was looking forward to this performance; it was as if his subconscious was seeking even more reasons (excuses?) for him to be drawn to his companion.
Not that that was a terrible thing, really... But damn. What my body wants is a foregone conclusion, and if my mind is pushing me that way, Andelis won't even have to try very hard...
The audience's murmurs of anticipation died away as the musicians struck up the tune, and Amadeo quickly recognized the high-pitched droning sound of music from Calimshan, far to the West along the Sword Coast. It was a land of intrigue, of luxuries and hardships, and the exotic melody conjured mental images of deserts, palm trees, and the graceful, rounded architecture of fabled Calimport. He himself had never been to that great city, but every thief worth his salt in Faerûn knew tales of the guilds of the pashas there.
He imagined that most of the audience and the performers had never been there either, and guessed that the song was some over-romanticized version of true Calishite music. The singer prattled about a veiled woman, comparing her to a rare desert flower; other desert-themed metaphors were liberally scattered throughout the verse as the song went on.
The tiefling had little attention to spare for the words, however. He watched as Andelis moved with exquisite grace, gliding along as part of the music itself instead of being bound to the hopelessly mundane lyrics. It wasn't acrobatic or even particularly rapid movement, but it was precise and measured, for all that it looked as natural as flowing water. Amadeo knew what it took to move in such a fashion, and Andelis made it look so easy.
He was suddenly glad for all of the people about; their presence was a useful distraction that kept him from getting hopelessly lost in the minstrel's sinuous movements. If the two of them had been alone, somewhere private, Amadeo wasn't sure he would have been able to endure the performance without losing his composure.
The rapt stares of many of the members of the audience told him that they had no such inhibitions, and the longing some of them felt was easy to read. He shifted his weight restlessly from foot to foot, wondering if Andelis knew what kind of effect he was having on all of them, and on him in particular. The minstrel seemed totally caught up in his art, though, and did not meet the adoring gazes of his watchers. Even his expression of concentration was captivating; there was a hint of pleasure in it, as if he knew he was succeeding in his rather complex task. That would have been innocuous enough, except Amadeo's imagination kept trying to flash mental images of Andelis wearing that expression in some distinctly different circumstances...
Damn him. If he is doing this intentionally, I'll... He couldn't think of an appropriate retaliation to complete the mental threat. How could the man know his weakness for dance, anyway? They had certainly never discussed it. No... surely, since he had already given one musical performance today, Andelis simply wanted to provide something different for the evening's entertainment.
The dance seemed both too short and outside of time. When Andelis finally broke from the stylized pose with which he had finished the set, to enthusiastic applause, the Seeker had to restrain a shiver. He felt hyper-aware of his surroundings now, as if he has awoken from a trance -- which, perhaps, he had. He watched as the minstrel made his graceful thanks to the musicians and to the audience, which was full of excited and impressed murmuring. He then disappeared into the crowd -- not surprising, given his relatively short stature -- and Amadeo turned to leave, figuring that his polite duty to his hosts had been fulfilled by the time he'd spent in the garden this evening.
The chatter around him intensified for a moment, then quickly died away. Self-consciously, Amadeo turned to look behind him, and saw that a sort of aisle had opened in the crowd. At the other end of that sudden path was Andelis, sauntering towards him as if it were perfectly natural for the tiefling to be his goal (or was that target?). The minstrel's features were schooled into what Amadeo thought of as his "sybarite" expression, a lazy, but knowing, smile on his lips and echoed in his eyes. He knew this was an affectation, a pose Andelis put on to make himself seem harmless and charming, but as the coy glance fell on him, he had to fight down the flush that threatened to spread across his face.
He's playing on the tale he told earlier, the Seeker reminded himself pointedly. Having "laid claim" to me, now would be the ideal time to... take advantage of that.
Still, it was astoundingly hard to keep his cool as Andelis made his unhurried way to him. Finally, the minstrel reached his side, resting a hand lightly on his forearm in what anyone would interpret as a gesture to be led away. There was an impish look in his eyes; clearly, he was enjoying the reactions to this bit of drama.
Sunites! Amadeo thought with a mental snort of annoyance. He hid his irritation, however, and dutifully led Andelis -- who was walking so close that their legs kept brushing against each other distractingly -- through the garden. The crowd continued to buzz in their wake, even though the next act had begun. The Seeker spared a moment of pity for the petite little lute player, having to follow Andelis's on-stage and offstage performances.
The brief walk back to the guest wing of the temple seemed longer with the silence between them; Andelis seemed thoughtful, and the tiefling could only wonder what sort of trouble for him was implied in that contemplation.
- Part V
- Part III
Sanctuary (Part IV)
Author: jenovan
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Notes: Originally, this was supposed to be the last chapter, with an Epilogue to wrap up, but the scene that occurs after the end of this section was growing into something way too long to include in this chapter, so! Chapter-break. ;P
Judging from the surprised and gratified expressions on the faces of some of the younger temple folk, supper was grander than usual. Amadeo figured that the temple was going all out for their guests (or more specifically, for Andelis). Once again, he wondered at the minstrel's true role within the faith -- the underpriestess who had begun to interrogate him had referred to the musician as "honored Andelis", which seemed a bit exalted for a simple traveling songster, no matter how strong his devotion. But he seemed to have no true title or rank, just an enormous amount of respect and affection from the priestesses. Perhaps it was simply their fondness of him from his previous visit here -- or may his beauty simply demanded such treatment from Sune's people.
Whatever the case, they ate very well that night, not on hearty, heavy foods, but on light, flavorful dishes meant to appeal to the senses. The temple folk asked many questions about Andelis's travels, which he answered with a storyteller's flair. When the inevitable question arose of how he met Amadeo, however, he glossed over the details, simply saying that a demon had captured him, and Amadeo had bravely rescued him. The assassin accepted the praise he received somewhat uncomfortably, but, as he expected, that was simply taken for modesty. Thankfully, he was asked few questions, although he was aware of many admiring glances cast his way. He wondered if the fact that Andelis had "claimed" him would prevent any... friendly advances... from the Sunites this evening. He could only hope -- but then, he had no idea what the minstrel's plans for the evening were; perhaps he had some private assignations in mind, which would leave Amadeo at loose ends.
"Would you grace us with a performance this evening?" Emalia was asking Andelis, who was sitting in the place of honor at her right hand.
"I would be honored to, Lady Emalia," the man replied with a modest smile. "I'll consult with Priestess Halessa after the meal." He nodded to one of the older priestesses, who Amadeo surmised was in charge of entertainment or the like.
"The honor will be ours, I'm sure," Emalia countered, smiling a bit coyly. Clearly, having such a recital in their temple was a credit to their prestige.
The conversation turned to other topics as the meal progressed, and finally, the dessert plates were cleared away by the novices. Emalia rose from her seat, and at that signal, the other Sunites began to disperse. Andelis sidled up to Amadeo and spoke to him quietly. "I'm going to speak with the other musicians, and go to change clothes. Why don't you look around the gardens? This is when the evening shows begin."
Amadeo restrained the urge to roll his eyes -- how many time was the minstrel going to change clothes today? But he knew this was important to Andelis, and a courtesy to their hosts. "All right."
Andelis gave him a bright smile and left in a swirl of blue and gold to find Priestess Halessa, leaving the tiefling to make his way to the elaborate gardens alone.
On clear nights like tonight, the temple grounds were open to the public, both to share the beauty of the place, and to perhaps win a few converts. Well-dressed strangers (scruffy supplicants and potential troublemakers were turned away at the gate) strolled the paths and chatted with the priestesses and novices of the temple. A poet was already seated at the front of the small performing area in the center of the garden, reciting a free-form verse in praise of, it seemed, a beautiful flowering tree. Amadeo wondered if it was all an elaborate metaphor for a woman, but he didn't truly feel like listening intently enough to discern the truth of the matter. Instead, he drifted away from the little amphitheater, stopping here and there to look at the few flowers hardy enough to bloom in this earliest part of the spring. Many of the other well-tended shrubs showed signs of waking from winter, but it would be more than a moon before they were ready to flower.
More than once, he veered away from little sheltered nooks behind the hedges and trees; quiet murmurs and the occasional giggle or gasp indicated that some of the Sunites and their guests for the evening had already retired to their own amusements. He had no intention of interrupting anyone's fun -- or of being invited to join in. A few of the women, and one man, though he was not one of the temple folk, had given him enticing looks already, but he had demurred each time. If he had been traveling alone, perhaps he might have indulged; these were not dangerous people, and their company was truly pleasant. But, he had to admit to himself, he didn't want to risk hurting his companion's feelings by seeking other lovers, especially when he had repeatedly deflected Andelis's advances.
Then again, he had no idea if that would even bother Andelis. These folk seemed free enough with their affection, and the fact that the minstrel had "claimed" him didn't seem to deter them. Still, he wasn't comfortable with the idea, and the Sunites did not press their attentions when they were unwanted. Left to his own devices, Amadeo continued to wander the garden, staying within earshot of the central stage.
After the poet's recital ended, someone played a haunting melody in a minor key on a wooden flute; when that ended to quiet, but fervent, applause, the next performer offered a staccato chiming of finger cymbals.
A dance? Hmm. The Seeker was no connoisseur of words or song, but he greatly appreciated the artistry of movement. As he made his way back to the stage, he saw he was not the only one drawn in by the teasing of the little chimes.
Well, beauty is an article of faith for them, and there is certainly beauty in dance, Amadeo thought. A small group of musicians was settling on the side of the area, leading most of the stage clear for the dancer. Clad in soft, silken trousers and a sleeveless tunic, the dancer stood in an effortlessly elegant slouch that the tiefling recognized immediately.
He had never seen Andelis dance for the sake of performance before. The light-footed minstrel had taken part in lively group or partnered dances in the occasional small-town party, but nothing like what would be expected here. The Seeker realized that he was looking forward to this performance; it was as if his subconscious was seeking even more reasons (excuses?) for him to be drawn to his companion.
Not that that was a terrible thing, really... But damn. What my body wants is a foregone conclusion, and if my mind is pushing me that way, Andelis won't even have to try very hard...
The audience's murmurs of anticipation died away as the musicians struck up the tune, and Amadeo quickly recognized the high-pitched droning sound of music from Calimshan, far to the West along the Sword Coast. It was a land of intrigue, of luxuries and hardships, and the exotic melody conjured mental images of deserts, palm trees, and the graceful, rounded architecture of fabled Calimport. He himself had never been to that great city, but every thief worth his salt in Faerûn knew tales of the guilds of the pashas there.
He imagined that most of the audience and the performers had never been there either, and guessed that the song was some over-romanticized version of true Calishite music. The singer prattled about a veiled woman, comparing her to a rare desert flower; other desert-themed metaphors were liberally scattered throughout the verse as the song went on.
The tiefling had little attention to spare for the words, however. He watched as Andelis moved with exquisite grace, gliding along as part of the music itself instead of being bound to the hopelessly mundane lyrics. It wasn't acrobatic or even particularly rapid movement, but it was precise and measured, for all that it looked as natural as flowing water. Amadeo knew what it took to move in such a fashion, and Andelis made it look so easy.
He was suddenly glad for all of the people about; their presence was a useful distraction that kept him from getting hopelessly lost in the minstrel's sinuous movements. If the two of them had been alone, somewhere private, Amadeo wasn't sure he would have been able to endure the performance without losing his composure.
The rapt stares of many of the members of the audience told him that they had no such inhibitions, and the longing some of them felt was easy to read. He shifted his weight restlessly from foot to foot, wondering if Andelis knew what kind of effect he was having on all of them, and on him in particular. The minstrel seemed totally caught up in his art, though, and did not meet the adoring gazes of his watchers. Even his expression of concentration was captivating; there was a hint of pleasure in it, as if he knew he was succeeding in his rather complex task. That would have been innocuous enough, except Amadeo's imagination kept trying to flash mental images of Andelis wearing that expression in some distinctly different circumstances...
Damn him. If he is doing this intentionally, I'll... He couldn't think of an appropriate retaliation to complete the mental threat. How could the man know his weakness for dance, anyway? They had certainly never discussed it. No... surely, since he had already given one musical performance today, Andelis simply wanted to provide something different for the evening's entertainment.
The dance seemed both too short and outside of time. When Andelis finally broke from the stylized pose with which he had finished the set, to enthusiastic applause, the Seeker had to restrain a shiver. He felt hyper-aware of his surroundings now, as if he has awoken from a trance -- which, perhaps, he had. He watched as the minstrel made his graceful thanks to the musicians and to the audience, which was full of excited and impressed murmuring. He then disappeared into the crowd -- not surprising, given his relatively short stature -- and Amadeo turned to leave, figuring that his polite duty to his hosts had been fulfilled by the time he'd spent in the garden this evening.
The chatter around him intensified for a moment, then quickly died away. Self-consciously, Amadeo turned to look behind him, and saw that a sort of aisle had opened in the crowd. At the other end of that sudden path was Andelis, sauntering towards him as if it were perfectly natural for the tiefling to be his goal (or was that target?). The minstrel's features were schooled into what Amadeo thought of as his "sybarite" expression, a lazy, but knowing, smile on his lips and echoed in his eyes. He knew this was an affectation, a pose Andelis put on to make himself seem harmless and charming, but as the coy glance fell on him, he had to fight down the flush that threatened to spread across his face.
He's playing on the tale he told earlier, the Seeker reminded himself pointedly. Having "laid claim" to me, now would be the ideal time to... take advantage of that.
Still, it was astoundingly hard to keep his cool as Andelis made his unhurried way to him. Finally, the minstrel reached his side, resting a hand lightly on his forearm in what anyone would interpret as a gesture to be led away. There was an impish look in his eyes; clearly, he was enjoying the reactions to this bit of drama.
Sunites! Amadeo thought with a mental snort of annoyance. He hid his irritation, however, and dutifully led Andelis -- who was walking so close that their legs kept brushing against each other distractingly -- through the garden. The crowd continued to buzz in their wake, even though the next act had begun. The Seeker spared a moment of pity for the petite little lute player, having to follow Andelis's on-stage and offstage performances.
The brief walk back to the guest wing of the temple seemed longer with the silence between them; Andelis seemed thoughtful, and the tiefling could only wonder what sort of trouble for him was implied in that contemplation.
- Part V