Last Chapter
This is it, the end of Outlands. I might do an epilogue, focusing on Seifer and the Clan Elders and our favorite Seer, but for now, I'm reeling with the knowledge I *ended* something. And not with angst. Or well, not as much asngst as is usual for me.
So here you go, The End.
Seifer sat the Seer on the marble floor and the slave took up his normal kneeling position, waiting for some water and an order to begin.
The king moved through the room, sighing as he looked over the people there, eyes focusing on the sorcerer as he settled in his seat, A dark slave moving to curl against his right side, watching the others in the room in silence, and the blond slave from before on the left, forehead against the edge of the chair as he said nothing. Both were in their revealing attire, adorned with silver and gems discreetly, and the king ran his fingers over his violet eyed slave's hair. "You're returned. What have you brought with you?"
The sorcerer stood at a loose attention, focused on the man whose home and country he'd practically invaded. "Seifer Almasy ambassador on behalf of the United Clans of the Outlands, and a gift on the nation's behalf, as a peace token, the Prophet Son of Rain." He gestured to each in turn, Seifer standing a little protectively over the kneeling slave.
The king, watched the three intently. The seer could feel the piercing gaze upon him, though he never looked at the man himself. "And what does this Prophet do?"
The sorcerer kept a bland face. "He can foretell the future, in such areas as personal health, the weather, a countries crops, the sea tides, enemy encampments and moves on the battlefield, and the likelihood of war, or so I am lead to believe. I have had at least two demonstrations of this gift which leads me to conclude it is real, though the full extent is not known to me." The next words were a bit tougher to get out but he said them calmly and without inflection. "Nor am I positive the mechanism of such power."
"You have no honest idea as to how his abilities work or what they really do then." The king turned his gaze to the slave. "You are the only one who knows how your powers work slave; tell me of them in true words."
He stared at the floor, mind whirling in the darkness. He didn't bother to think about the words because thinking would make him wonder at the truth of them, and this was the truth as he knew it. "Hyne gives to those who drink of her the ability she sees fit of her. These are passed through blood and choosing and work as Hyne wills and teaches. I ask of the wind and am told, I ask of the water and am told, only wind and water, and only together are the messages clear to the mind as more than meandering visions."
"And what kinds of visions are you given?" There was no censure in the voice, but no gentleness either.
He breathed. The muscles in his hands ached with not clenching around the empty chalice. No one... no one had ever asked, no one ever questioned the ways of Hyne and her gifts. How did he describe the voice of the wind as it went around the world? How did he put into words the way a body of water held memory and also each drop a different story? Language was too limited to give life to such a way of seeing. Words were precious, but fallible. "I see, what has been, what is, what may be, as the wind and water know it."
"And do the nature of these visions encompass all those things he so mentioned, or is that a lie?" It wasn’t phrased *exactly* like an accusation, an he couldn’t tell if the man was simply getting all the facts, or looking for the Seer to hang himself with enough verbal rope.
It wasn't a lie, so much as... a misunderstanding? He did foretell all of those things, but the wind and water did not always know and so... But again, while the limits of his endurance had been tested, not the limits of the wind and water, so perhaps... He did not allow his mind to touch his words, only his heart. The mind of a slave was worth less than nothing after all. "I see all that the wind lets me, that the water allows. I have seen and told of all those things and more, and less. I do not see everything, I can not, nor can I ever know that one thing I see is alone, or connected to another thing I can not see. I can see better the things closer to me, and less the things far away, and here, very little at all. The wind bends around the walls."
"You, personally, have seen them?"
"Seen... the visions? Or the walls... I don't understand what you are asking me." The question didn’t specify and he wasn’t going to presume to interpret one way or another.
The king nodded slightly and studied him. "He is mine now, correct?" He looked to the pair. "Can he walk?"
The sorcerer had the look of someone chewing over a particularly difficult puzzle, and Seifer was... rather fascinated and bored at the same time. "Given leave your Grace, he is yours, but no, he can't walk. Not for any distance anyway. Heidigger did not see a reason for easy mobility to be necessary." Seifer’s tone suggested he rather thought Heidigger was a piece of slime and he was glad the sack of flesh was pleasantly dead and rotting somewhere.
"Hmm. Slave, come here. Sapphire, pay attention." The voice was commanding, though the tone wasn’t harsh.
It took him several moments to force his legs to cooperate, Seifer obviously forcing himself not to help after getting frosty glares. The fiery tempered man was as close to a friend as the slave could imagine having, he was glad the fool stayed put. Finally he was upright and he placed each foot carefully, the short steps sending waves of pain through his limbs that he ignored with long practice until he could resume kneeling. Then he faced a bit of a dilemma. He had no water.
"Sapphire?" The king looked to the slave he'd told to watch.
"I can. I'll be exhausted, possibly dayblind."
"That's fine. Ruby can watch you."
"Sire." Without any further words spoken to his king, the blond slave moved to the one kneeling on the ground, crouching before the Seer as the air starting where he was slowly darkened, and he reached out to brush the hood back, a slow glow filtering over his eyes.
He wasn't exactly sure what to make of that, but even he, an Outland slave, knew the mark of magic. He hadn't meant to meet the slave? servant? sorcerer?'s eyes, but so few touched him it was an almost instinctive reflex to flinch. He thanked the goddess he'd only looked up instead of actually moving. He didn't mean to stare either, but he'd never seen... not even the gifted were touched like this. It was said only the chosen of the god’s favorites could do such magic as whatever this... was. He didn't *know*. And it made him just a bit more lost in the darkness of his mind. He couldn't ask... he couldn't ask anything. But he could maybe... inform? Again, the darkness whispered to him, what was the worst they could do? Destroy him? He wasn't even worth the effort anymore. "I... I don't have any water. It... Won’t be very clear." Closing his eyes he reached for the wind and water that surrounded the walls and ran under the stone, pushing himself to touch them and hear their voices.
Sapphire shook his head and hushed him quietly, resting his hands lightly on the brunette’s thigh with soft murmurs. Gently, so gently stopping him from calling his abilities before this… whatever, was done. Sapphire was unnaturally warm, not burning, just soothing, warm, healing, light moving out from where he touched as he leaned forward and kissed the slave's forehead, stopping his hypnotic murmuring before dipping his head and pressing a kiss over his heart. Healing.
He froze, wide eyed and almost hyperventilating. He didn't move a muscle, heart beating hard as the other touched him, worked magic on him and he knew, *knew* that this wasn't supposed to hurt, that this was something... but it did, inside, in the darkness where he was shaken to his core, because this wasn't *supposed* to happen. Whatever this was or why, he had been prepared for anything other than warmth and comfort. So he froze and scrambled inside for a reason *why*.
Sapphire pulled back on a shuddery breath, closing his eyes tightly as the darkened aura faded away. "So much damage..." At some point during the proceedings, a dark haired, red eyed slave in snug black silks and a ruby adorned arm dragon had come near them. "Sapphire."
The healer nodded a little and extended his hand to the long haired man, which was taken. "Earlier than normal."
The king looked across to the other two, studying them for a moment. "You still have things to learn Mage."
The sorcerer nodded carefully, eyes at half mast. "Many things on many subjects it seems." Seifer was confused and shaken and a bit awed but mostly concerned over the slave that he wanted to help but couldn't, so he glared at a far wall and kept silent.
The slave himself, waited. He would do as told and nothing else. He was lost and reeling and the only thing he could cling to was the truth of what he himself was and his duties as such. Until given an order, he would kneel, and breathe.
The red eyed man helped Sapphire to his feet, and when he almost collapsed right back down, wrapped an arm around him and led him from the room. The slave almost reached to give aid, but instinct stopped him before he did more than shift. The king watched in quietude, then looked back to the one still kneeling. "Stand and walk to stand within my range of touch."
It... It didn't hurt to stand. For the first time since his childhood he felt no pain. Maybe this was another test. A slave had to be loyal, perhaps this was to test to see of he'd run away. It didn't quite fit with what he thought he knew of the Outsiders, but nothing about them seemed quite right. He moved where told and stood, silent and still, eyes on the floor at all times. He would not betray himself again.
The king reached out and tipped his face up partially, then cupped his chin. "Snow." Nodding slightly, he tapped his other hand lightly on his last Gem's hair. "Go fetch the Princess."
There was a nod, and then the silent slave departed the room.
He refused to look the man in the eyes. It was not his place, his station, and he would not take liberties. He did not know what was going on, what was being asked of him, or what the man meant, but it wasn't not his place to know or question. He existed and that was enough.
It wasn't long before the Princess threw open the doors behind the visitors. "You rang-... Hello there?" The dark slave circled around everyone and resumed his place half sprawled on his king's lap.
The sorcerer schooled himself into a distantly polite court face and the seer didn't even twitch, just continued to stare at a spot in space and try to reclaim the stillness of the black. Seifer at least gave the woman a once over before nodding a hello.
The king gave her an amused look as her peevish question cut itself off, and then smoothed his expression back down. "This is Snow." He firmly turned the slave around to face the woman. Though he moved as directed, he did not look up, but actually further down. A quite sense of dread started to rise at the presence of a woman in the room. "I just got him, but I have no real use for him, so he's yours."
The woman met her husband-to-be's eyes for a long moment then snorted and turned to go back out the door. "Fine, he's free. Have a nice life Snow."
That... this.... he didn't understand. It didn't make sense... no one *freed* a slave. A slave was a slave. Even a name didn't make a slave anything other than a slave.... It didn't work like that. It couldn't work like that. Freedom wasn't something to be doled out it or given away. What kind of cruelty did these Outsiders play at? What kind of game did they think this was? Was it another test? Another way for him to prove his loyalty or betray his sins? The Outlanders were a harsh people but they were not without honor. Hyne did not grace the weak, she did not give favors to those who did not *earn* their place. He knew what he was and what he wasn't and a freeman he was *not*. He hadn't earned it even if such a thing could be done. Reaching for the voices of the wind and water he felt himself frowning at nothing, frowning at everything but never raising his eyes from the floor.
"The hurricane that will strike in the following months against the Outlands will not be an isolated storm. The winds over Wutai will be sucked dry of rain and the rivers will recede to streams."
The Princess paused and considered that. "I'll give you a place in my household Snow. If you want it. I don't keep slaves." With that, she slipped out the door.
"A weather cataclysm. Thank you." He moved his hand back to petting the slave in his lap, watching the one before him with almost amused eyes. The only ones to notice were the men staring at him, and not actually the one who’s actions seemed to garner such emotion. "I don't keep the broken, I don't give slaves to bad homes, and I certainly have nothing against someone freeing their own personal servants. Your life is now your own."
He didn't bother to hold the wind. He was... numb. Cold. He was an Outlander. He was an Outland slave. If he was to assume, and at this juncture he was not being given anything to go on, then he would have to assume that they... these Outsiders simply did not understand. Or... The darkness settled into the hollow numbness and it was as though he had a gift vision, this was his punishment. He had sinned in the worst way, and that sin must be accounted for. He had been given a name. He would be judged. He did not speak, did not look where a slave should not, simply waited to be dismissed. It would not take much, the bronze from his collar was enough if he could find a stone to sharpen it, and he would fulfill the last duty befitting an Outland slave. He would die, as he had lived.
The King watched the man, the slave, for a long moment, and then he looked to the sorcerer and Seifer with sharp eyes. "I don't like manipulation. If you want him to live you should give him a purpose. I've seen many a freed man decide they didn't want a life."
Seifer was giving the seer a look much like a hawk on a snared rabbit. If anyone or thing was possibly thinking of getting between him and his... his friend damn it, then he'd just have to hurt them judiously. Tseng... was pretty much an apathetic freak. Which was fine, because Seifer had some plans, and some favors to call in, and a lot of boring kowtowing he would be doing in the near future, and Snow's cooking was a hell of a lot better than his own and he trusted the guy not to put hemlock in it. Or to have a really good reason for it in which case Seifer was pretty much okay with going out, as long as he got a kiss and a grope in first.
"I don't know much about Galetha, I have issues with Acadia, and personally, the Outlands don't trust me. But they trust him." he jerked a thumb at the silent figure in white. "And I trust him and they need me right now. And the gods only know I can use all the help I can get. But before we start hammering out what I can and can’t say to the king of a sovereign nation without getting tossed in prison, do you mind if we take a day *off* this journey from the ass crack of Hel's land?"
"I'm sure there will be room for you in a lower hall." Not an insulting place to put them, but not high ranked either, and the king ran his fingers through Amethyst's hair.
“Wonderful. Where is that?” Snow bit back a sigh at the blond’s tone and reached out, almost without thought, to ask the wind for guidance. Then it struck him exactly what he was doing, not the calling on of voices but the reason. The wind told him what it wished and gave him sight if he tried to see, but never had he actually had the audacity to *ask* it for anything.
Could… could he even do that? The walls were strong but not, as had felt earlier, entirely solid against the wind, and it was a little thing, a small favor…
He trembled and swallowed hard, the sudden epiphany of all he had never tried, and had never had the right to try, and now… he still didn’t have the right by Hyne, to ask for gifts, but for guidance… for selfless purposes… it was too much to ponder and he stood there dumb and mute, not reaching but open to the voices nonetheless.
"Reno can take you." The king nodded to the doors. "He should be waiting out there since the princess was just here." The sorcerer was already leaving, giving a bow to his lord and exiting with full knowledge that he would be called upon later to give full and detailed reports to the king and most likely his advisors on some of his travels.
Seifer gave a salute, and smile, and reached out to grab Snow’s hand, startling the other man enough to bring his head up, gray eyes wide. “Come on! We got beds! As in not sleeping on the ground or those… whatever those things were you claimed were beds back home. Those things should be outlawed. Hey, maybe I can get the elders to consider a reform to actual mattresses.”
The blond tugged and started walking, dragging the former slave with him in a friendly way that left the brunette floundering and waving his free hand, with challace in a decidedly confused fashion. “…but …. what…. Lord Almasy!”
“Call me Seifer, Princess.”
So here you go, The End.
Seifer sat the Seer on the marble floor and the slave took up his normal kneeling position, waiting for some water and an order to begin.
The king moved through the room, sighing as he looked over the people there, eyes focusing on the sorcerer as he settled in his seat, A dark slave moving to curl against his right side, watching the others in the room in silence, and the blond slave from before on the left, forehead against the edge of the chair as he said nothing. Both were in their revealing attire, adorned with silver and gems discreetly, and the king ran his fingers over his violet eyed slave's hair. "You're returned. What have you brought with you?"
The sorcerer stood at a loose attention, focused on the man whose home and country he'd practically invaded. "Seifer Almasy ambassador on behalf of the United Clans of the Outlands, and a gift on the nation's behalf, as a peace token, the Prophet Son of Rain." He gestured to each in turn, Seifer standing a little protectively over the kneeling slave.
The king, watched the three intently. The seer could feel the piercing gaze upon him, though he never looked at the man himself. "And what does this Prophet do?"
The sorcerer kept a bland face. "He can foretell the future, in such areas as personal health, the weather, a countries crops, the sea tides, enemy encampments and moves on the battlefield, and the likelihood of war, or so I am lead to believe. I have had at least two demonstrations of this gift which leads me to conclude it is real, though the full extent is not known to me." The next words were a bit tougher to get out but he said them calmly and without inflection. "Nor am I positive the mechanism of such power."
"You have no honest idea as to how his abilities work or what they really do then." The king turned his gaze to the slave. "You are the only one who knows how your powers work slave; tell me of them in true words."
He stared at the floor, mind whirling in the darkness. He didn't bother to think about the words because thinking would make him wonder at the truth of them, and this was the truth as he knew it. "Hyne gives to those who drink of her the ability she sees fit of her. These are passed through blood and choosing and work as Hyne wills and teaches. I ask of the wind and am told, I ask of the water and am told, only wind and water, and only together are the messages clear to the mind as more than meandering visions."
"And what kinds of visions are you given?" There was no censure in the voice, but no gentleness either.
He breathed. The muscles in his hands ached with not clenching around the empty chalice. No one... no one had ever asked, no one ever questioned the ways of Hyne and her gifts. How did he describe the voice of the wind as it went around the world? How did he put into words the way a body of water held memory and also each drop a different story? Language was too limited to give life to such a way of seeing. Words were precious, but fallible. "I see, what has been, what is, what may be, as the wind and water know it."
"And do the nature of these visions encompass all those things he so mentioned, or is that a lie?" It wasn’t phrased *exactly* like an accusation, an he couldn’t tell if the man was simply getting all the facts, or looking for the Seer to hang himself with enough verbal rope.
It wasn't a lie, so much as... a misunderstanding? He did foretell all of those things, but the wind and water did not always know and so... But again, while the limits of his endurance had been tested, not the limits of the wind and water, so perhaps... He did not allow his mind to touch his words, only his heart. The mind of a slave was worth less than nothing after all. "I see all that the wind lets me, that the water allows. I have seen and told of all those things and more, and less. I do not see everything, I can not, nor can I ever know that one thing I see is alone, or connected to another thing I can not see. I can see better the things closer to me, and less the things far away, and here, very little at all. The wind bends around the walls."
"You, personally, have seen them?"
"Seen... the visions? Or the walls... I don't understand what you are asking me." The question didn’t specify and he wasn’t going to presume to interpret one way or another.
The king nodded slightly and studied him. "He is mine now, correct?" He looked to the pair. "Can he walk?"
The sorcerer had the look of someone chewing over a particularly difficult puzzle, and Seifer was... rather fascinated and bored at the same time. "Given leave your Grace, he is yours, but no, he can't walk. Not for any distance anyway. Heidigger did not see a reason for easy mobility to be necessary." Seifer’s tone suggested he rather thought Heidigger was a piece of slime and he was glad the sack of flesh was pleasantly dead and rotting somewhere.
"Hmm. Slave, come here. Sapphire, pay attention." The voice was commanding, though the tone wasn’t harsh.
It took him several moments to force his legs to cooperate, Seifer obviously forcing himself not to help after getting frosty glares. The fiery tempered man was as close to a friend as the slave could imagine having, he was glad the fool stayed put. Finally he was upright and he placed each foot carefully, the short steps sending waves of pain through his limbs that he ignored with long practice until he could resume kneeling. Then he faced a bit of a dilemma. He had no water.
"Sapphire?" The king looked to the slave he'd told to watch.
"I can. I'll be exhausted, possibly dayblind."
"That's fine. Ruby can watch you."
"Sire." Without any further words spoken to his king, the blond slave moved to the one kneeling on the ground, crouching before the Seer as the air starting where he was slowly darkened, and he reached out to brush the hood back, a slow glow filtering over his eyes.
He wasn't exactly sure what to make of that, but even he, an Outland slave, knew the mark of magic. He hadn't meant to meet the slave? servant? sorcerer?'s eyes, but so few touched him it was an almost instinctive reflex to flinch. He thanked the goddess he'd only looked up instead of actually moving. He didn't mean to stare either, but he'd never seen... not even the gifted were touched like this. It was said only the chosen of the god’s favorites could do such magic as whatever this... was. He didn't *know*. And it made him just a bit more lost in the darkness of his mind. He couldn't ask... he couldn't ask anything. But he could maybe... inform? Again, the darkness whispered to him, what was the worst they could do? Destroy him? He wasn't even worth the effort anymore. "I... I don't have any water. It... Won’t be very clear." Closing his eyes he reached for the wind and water that surrounded the walls and ran under the stone, pushing himself to touch them and hear their voices.
Sapphire shook his head and hushed him quietly, resting his hands lightly on the brunette’s thigh with soft murmurs. Gently, so gently stopping him from calling his abilities before this… whatever, was done. Sapphire was unnaturally warm, not burning, just soothing, warm, healing, light moving out from where he touched as he leaned forward and kissed the slave's forehead, stopping his hypnotic murmuring before dipping his head and pressing a kiss over his heart. Healing.
He froze, wide eyed and almost hyperventilating. He didn't move a muscle, heart beating hard as the other touched him, worked magic on him and he knew, *knew* that this wasn't supposed to hurt, that this was something... but it did, inside, in the darkness where he was shaken to his core, because this wasn't *supposed* to happen. Whatever this was or why, he had been prepared for anything other than warmth and comfort. So he froze and scrambled inside for a reason *why*.
Sapphire pulled back on a shuddery breath, closing his eyes tightly as the darkened aura faded away. "So much damage..." At some point during the proceedings, a dark haired, red eyed slave in snug black silks and a ruby adorned arm dragon had come near them. "Sapphire."
The healer nodded a little and extended his hand to the long haired man, which was taken. "Earlier than normal."
The king looked across to the other two, studying them for a moment. "You still have things to learn Mage."
The sorcerer nodded carefully, eyes at half mast. "Many things on many subjects it seems." Seifer was confused and shaken and a bit awed but mostly concerned over the slave that he wanted to help but couldn't, so he glared at a far wall and kept silent.
The slave himself, waited. He would do as told and nothing else. He was lost and reeling and the only thing he could cling to was the truth of what he himself was and his duties as such. Until given an order, he would kneel, and breathe.
The red eyed man helped Sapphire to his feet, and when he almost collapsed right back down, wrapped an arm around him and led him from the room. The slave almost reached to give aid, but instinct stopped him before he did more than shift. The king watched in quietude, then looked back to the one still kneeling. "Stand and walk to stand within my range of touch."
It... It didn't hurt to stand. For the first time since his childhood he felt no pain. Maybe this was another test. A slave had to be loyal, perhaps this was to test to see of he'd run away. It didn't quite fit with what he thought he knew of the Outsiders, but nothing about them seemed quite right. He moved where told and stood, silent and still, eyes on the floor at all times. He would not betray himself again.
The king reached out and tipped his face up partially, then cupped his chin. "Snow." Nodding slightly, he tapped his other hand lightly on his last Gem's hair. "Go fetch the Princess."
There was a nod, and then the silent slave departed the room.
He refused to look the man in the eyes. It was not his place, his station, and he would not take liberties. He did not know what was going on, what was being asked of him, or what the man meant, but it wasn't not his place to know or question. He existed and that was enough.
It wasn't long before the Princess threw open the doors behind the visitors. "You rang-... Hello there?" The dark slave circled around everyone and resumed his place half sprawled on his king's lap.
The sorcerer schooled himself into a distantly polite court face and the seer didn't even twitch, just continued to stare at a spot in space and try to reclaim the stillness of the black. Seifer at least gave the woman a once over before nodding a hello.
The king gave her an amused look as her peevish question cut itself off, and then smoothed his expression back down. "This is Snow." He firmly turned the slave around to face the woman. Though he moved as directed, he did not look up, but actually further down. A quite sense of dread started to rise at the presence of a woman in the room. "I just got him, but I have no real use for him, so he's yours."
The woman met her husband-to-be's eyes for a long moment then snorted and turned to go back out the door. "Fine, he's free. Have a nice life Snow."
That... this.... he didn't understand. It didn't make sense... no one *freed* a slave. A slave was a slave. Even a name didn't make a slave anything other than a slave.... It didn't work like that. It couldn't work like that. Freedom wasn't something to be doled out it or given away. What kind of cruelty did these Outsiders play at? What kind of game did they think this was? Was it another test? Another way for him to prove his loyalty or betray his sins? The Outlanders were a harsh people but they were not without honor. Hyne did not grace the weak, she did not give favors to those who did not *earn* their place. He knew what he was and what he wasn't and a freeman he was *not*. He hadn't earned it even if such a thing could be done. Reaching for the voices of the wind and water he felt himself frowning at nothing, frowning at everything but never raising his eyes from the floor.
"The hurricane that will strike in the following months against the Outlands will not be an isolated storm. The winds over Wutai will be sucked dry of rain and the rivers will recede to streams."
The Princess paused and considered that. "I'll give you a place in my household Snow. If you want it. I don't keep slaves." With that, she slipped out the door.
"A weather cataclysm. Thank you." He moved his hand back to petting the slave in his lap, watching the one before him with almost amused eyes. The only ones to notice were the men staring at him, and not actually the one who’s actions seemed to garner such emotion. "I don't keep the broken, I don't give slaves to bad homes, and I certainly have nothing against someone freeing their own personal servants. Your life is now your own."
He didn't bother to hold the wind. He was... numb. Cold. He was an Outlander. He was an Outland slave. If he was to assume, and at this juncture he was not being given anything to go on, then he would have to assume that they... these Outsiders simply did not understand. Or... The darkness settled into the hollow numbness and it was as though he had a gift vision, this was his punishment. He had sinned in the worst way, and that sin must be accounted for. He had been given a name. He would be judged. He did not speak, did not look where a slave should not, simply waited to be dismissed. It would not take much, the bronze from his collar was enough if he could find a stone to sharpen it, and he would fulfill the last duty befitting an Outland slave. He would die, as he had lived.
The King watched the man, the slave, for a long moment, and then he looked to the sorcerer and Seifer with sharp eyes. "I don't like manipulation. If you want him to live you should give him a purpose. I've seen many a freed man decide they didn't want a life."
Seifer was giving the seer a look much like a hawk on a snared rabbit. If anyone or thing was possibly thinking of getting between him and his... his friend damn it, then he'd just have to hurt them judiously. Tseng... was pretty much an apathetic freak. Which was fine, because Seifer had some plans, and some favors to call in, and a lot of boring kowtowing he would be doing in the near future, and Snow's cooking was a hell of a lot better than his own and he trusted the guy not to put hemlock in it. Or to have a really good reason for it in which case Seifer was pretty much okay with going out, as long as he got a kiss and a grope in first.
"I don't know much about Galetha, I have issues with Acadia, and personally, the Outlands don't trust me. But they trust him." he jerked a thumb at the silent figure in white. "And I trust him and they need me right now. And the gods only know I can use all the help I can get. But before we start hammering out what I can and can’t say to the king of a sovereign nation without getting tossed in prison, do you mind if we take a day *off* this journey from the ass crack of Hel's land?"
"I'm sure there will be room for you in a lower hall." Not an insulting place to put them, but not high ranked either, and the king ran his fingers through Amethyst's hair.
“Wonderful. Where is that?” Snow bit back a sigh at the blond’s tone and reached out, almost without thought, to ask the wind for guidance. Then it struck him exactly what he was doing, not the calling on of voices but the reason. The wind told him what it wished and gave him sight if he tried to see, but never had he actually had the audacity to *ask* it for anything.
Could… could he even do that? The walls were strong but not, as had felt earlier, entirely solid against the wind, and it was a little thing, a small favor…
He trembled and swallowed hard, the sudden epiphany of all he had never tried, and had never had the right to try, and now… he still didn’t have the right by Hyne, to ask for gifts, but for guidance… for selfless purposes… it was too much to ponder and he stood there dumb and mute, not reaching but open to the voices nonetheless.
"Reno can take you." The king nodded to the doors. "He should be waiting out there since the princess was just here." The sorcerer was already leaving, giving a bow to his lord and exiting with full knowledge that he would be called upon later to give full and detailed reports to the king and most likely his advisors on some of his travels.
Seifer gave a salute, and smile, and reached out to grab Snow’s hand, startling the other man enough to bring his head up, gray eyes wide. “Come on! We got beds! As in not sleeping on the ground or those… whatever those things were you claimed were beds back home. Those things should be outlawed. Hey, maybe I can get the elders to consider a reform to actual mattresses.”
The blond tugged and started walking, dragging the former slave with him in a friendly way that left the brunette floundering and waving his free hand, with challace in a decidedly confused fashion. “…but …. what…. Lord Almasy!”
“Call me Seifer, Princess.”