Snippet #2678027

Mordred felt that strange involuntary spread of goosebumps that shot through he shoulder when he felt Amirs hand touch him. It was rare that anyone even tried to lay a hand on him, in friendship, in anger or in lust, and the result of the unusual feeling caused his body to react in a strange cold shock and surprise as it didn't know exactly how to react. Mordred tried very hard to not make it seem like his body was currently breaking out in tiny bumps and he could feel an involuntary shudder try to run up his spine as his body tried to figure out if it should fight or flee.

"Though, getting clothes better suited to this environment doesn’t sound half bad. You seem like the type of person to be good at clothes shopping. Make me looking absolutely fucking ravishing, eh?" He had to raise a quizzical eyebrow at that. Surely Amir jested with him?
"Need I remind you I wear primarily all black? Unless you are planning on swearing The Black I hardly think that I am such an expert on what fashion would suit you well." He made sure to avoid commenting on 'making Amir' ravishing as he had put it. He felt he had already overstepped his mark with his comment earlier as it was and to say any more would risk a great deal. "Come then, lets see what we can find you that doesn't look like it is attempting to somether you. And then after we shall have to seek out a meal." He lead Amir down into the streets once more.

It was pleasant to him, being able to walk the streets without having cheering and people fawning over him. Though of course it was loud and bustling, the noise was nothing compared to that of a cheering mass and for the most part people moved of their way, though usually it was with a look of surprise at the presence of the two with a flaming bird perched upon the blond boys shoulder. Of course some people murmured their greetings to Mordred he was slightly disappointed none addressed Amir. He felt that the Rider was far more note worthy and should be recognised far sooner than he, especially considering that his near all black wardrobe barely made him stand out against the dull colours of the men around them.

Once again they passed through the cities vast walls, though this time not guarded by knights but the soldiers in their uniform appearance, and far more of them besides. They kept a fairly loose vigilance over the gateway which stood open allowing all to pass freely. In truth this far into the interior there was little to worry about, there were frequent patrols all throughout the city yet most of the gangs resided further out from the Keep, though it was the more organised the cunning criminal elements that eluded the cities guards this far in. It was much harder to route out those hiding behind masks of nobility compared to those who wore their hostility open for all to see and fear.

The second tier of the city was as lively as the one before, though the age difference was far smaller. No longer did bands of children run through the streets or old men and women pass by on their way to old friends. Now young men and women walked with their young children from shop to shop as they sold their wares from behind long windows. He felt a familiar pang in his chest as he saw fathers buying their young children small wooden toys or their mothers looking at their child with such a fierce pride burning in their eyes that they would do anything for their young son. He always walked quickly past these sights lest the feelings of remorse over what he had never had, perhaps never would give, caused him to miss a step. He resolved to distract himself by trying to pick out individual songs that played from the music halls, whore houses and taverns that dotted the way. There was always too many playing from too many directions for him to figure out which was which. The second tier was always a bustle of light and colour and sound and wonder. "I enjoy walking the streets here sometimes. The bards play sweet songs from the far Reaches and there are always interesting tales to be heard here. This is the beating heart of the Amstrian people, not that great edifice in its centre." He breathed in deeply, enjoying the rich smell of food all around him, bread just finished baking and beef being slowly roasted, the heady scent of ale in the taverns and the strange mixture of earthy smells that came from many stews being cooked. Oh yes, he enjoyed it here.

"Through here, it should bring us closer to the nearest clothing district." Mordred gestured down an alleyway that cut between the long row of buildings. The alleyway had a long and gentle curve that arched with the natural curve of the city, it was frequently crossed throughout by other alleyways allowing one to go towards other sections if they wished. It was at one of these crossroads they were intercepted.

It was not a particularly dark place and the sounds of the city around them were not vanished, though they were faded. And yet out of the dark ahead of them, a fat man detached himself from the shadows. He had a mean scowl locked into his face and deep set eyes that looked down on the two boys with a look of natural malcontent. As if by some silent signal other figures detached themselves to surround the pair, coming from all sides of the crossroad, even behind them. Mordred subtly raised a hand to Amir, hoping he would let him do the talking here. One wrong action here could get them both killed.

"Well well well. What do we have here then lads?" The fat man stepped closer to the pair and leaned down to Mordred. He could smell the stench of far too much ale and onions on his putrid breath. "Well I'll be fucking blessed. If it isn't Mordred the fucking Black." He flashed an unpleasant grin of black and rotten teeth, before turning his attention to Amir. "And who's this little strumpet eh? Looks like the famous Prince Prol-eeeeees has finally found himself a friend." The men around them laughed cruel hearted barks. "What you doing down here little Mordred? Come here to suck my cock have you? Certainly heard you like to. Or are you planning on sucking his first so my men know they're in for a good time?" Most of the men laughed again, hardly seeming to care if they were going to rob the pair, rape them, or both. Though a few didn't laugh as hard as the others, if at all. No doubt the idea of raping two boys didn't really stir anything in them, though the robbing perhaps. Had it been two girls however, no doubt it would have already begun.

Mordred throughout had managed to keep and expression of steely calm, weathering the insults with silence. As the laughter was beginning to die down again he spoke. His voice carrying a gentle, almost genuine friendship in its tone.
"Be that as it may, and whilst I'm sure that you would all enjoy my... Company lets put it. I'm a firm believer of being on first names basis of those who would bed me. Though I suppose introductions are not needed are they, Killian?" The mans look of vile malcontent quickly melted into stumped confusion. He had been certain that Mordred did not know who he was. "Oh I know all about you." Mordred continued, as if he could read the larger mans mind. "And while I'm certain your company would enjoy my presence I'm not entirely sure they enjoy yours. Especially considering you kindly helped yourself to half of Amidaus's pay last week." He inclined his head towards one of the men standing behind them.
"What? You did what boss?"
"No. I fucking didn't, don't listen to this fucker. He's trying to play you for a fucking idiot." The expression of shocked confusion contorted into the anger of a wild beast. "You. I'll fucking bash your fucking head in and take your money now."
"Oh I'm sure you will. And then, in the middle of the night when you are sound asleep. They'll come for you." The pretence of friendship melted from his voice with every word until there was nothing but icy cold left. "When you are sound asleep and tucked up in bed, they'll come for you. And I don't think your daughter will be treated very well now will she? Little Mellisant I believe?" Killians eyes widened in shock as he reeled backwards, Mordred was pleased to see the colour drain from his face, though he didn't allow himself a smile. His face remained a black slate of indifference throughout.
"How the fuck did you-"
"You've got a daughter boss?" Interrupted one voice.
"I thought you never shagged anyone these days."
"Yeah, certainly not by their choice anyway."
"Have you been swindling us to pay for your fucking sprog?"
"What? You think he's holding out on us?" Killian quickly saw the tide was turning on him and knew it was time to cut his losses.
"Fucking shut it. The lot of you. We'll discuss this back at house. Is that fucking understood? Now come on." The group quickly followed Killian as he all but ran further into the alley. Amidaus hesitated for a moment, offering Mordred a grim nod before following. Mordred didn't offer anything in return.

When he was sure the outlaws had all vanished Mordred released a pent up breath in a sudden sigh and slumped against the nearest wall his balance faltering him in his relief. He hadn't been sure that would have even worked. He covered his face with his gloved hand in attempt to compose himself once more and then suddenly remembered Amir was there. And Amir had heard the bastard casually announce his preference for the company of men. His cheeks shot through with scarlet and he could feel his mouth go dry, he couldn't even bring himself to lower his hand and look at the blond boy.
"Please, forget what you heard them say about who I prefer to bed. Such things are not exactly forbidden in Amstra. But the higher born one is, and the higher in the line of succession the greater the disgrace if it is discovered. It is one of the reasons I am seen as a failing by many, not just Trytheus. There are none other in this country that could be more disgraced for it... And I am... A failing." His voice stammered off into silence. It seemed fate way playing him a cruel hand, as he waiting for Amir to denounce him, cast him aside and declare him a betrayer of his duty to continue his line, to help the kingdom grow in the most simple way. As his childhood friends had.

As some of his mentors had.

As the man who should have been his surrogate father had.