Sweet Dreams, Little Prince

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Henri Fitzroy
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Posts: 43

Sweet Dreams, Little Prince Jul 31, 2023 11:36:31 GMT Jaezred Vandree, Andy Davy, and 6 more like this

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Post by Henri Fitzroy on Jul 31, 2023 11:36:31 GMT

Henri lies draped atop a chaise longue in the middle of the parlour, drinking from a silver goblet. After a long sip, the base pointed to the ceiling, an attendant approaches with a pitcher. They pour a stream of quicksilver, and once the cup is full once more, Henri raises a hand in halting. His chest is bare, covered only by the length of silver fabric that hangs loosely around his shoulders. The hem of it rests on his grey breeches, short enough to expose his raised feet and ankles. In the other hand, he holds a magnificently engraved tome that he flips through lazily with an outstretched finger. And atop his crown, a small circlet of silver hovers, the metal so thin as to only be visible in the reflection of the light.

His eyes remain on the book, but his focus is on the room, which is how he notices a newcomer.

"Mr. Fitzroy. I'm sorry to contact you in this way, but it is the most secure method of communication outside of the Gossamer Threads' private rooms."

Jaezred is wearing a half-buttoned white shirt and black trousers.

"I have received your letter…"

Jaezred's eyebrows shoot up when he sees Henri and the dreamscape. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn't this…

Henri snaps the book shut with a gesture, a brilliant silver quill moving in to save his place. "Lord Jaezred. I am pleased to hear the courier was not waylaid. But I am afraid you've caught me at an inopportune time. I assume there is a purpose to this intrusion?"

"‘Inopportune time', eh…" He chuckles. "Well, I must admit I didn't just come here to feast my eyes on you. Your letter mentioned a garnet dragonborn?"

Jaezred lifts a hand and weaves silvery threads of starlight from his fingers, which wind around one another and solidify into the shape of a red dragonborn, sans features. "Could you describe him for me, please?"

Henri swings his legs over the side until he is facing Jaezred head-on. "Yes. Thromdax was the name he gave me." He proceeds to describe the Archwyrm as it appeared to him: red scales that appeared to be individual garnets, each reflecting the light perfectly.

The mannequin gradually gains Thromdrax's features as Henri describes them. Jaezred stares at it, committing the face to memory with his jaw clenched in frustration.

"He hid himself well. Too well," the drow grumbles. "Archwyrms, hmm…?"

As Jaezred's frustration grows, so too does Henri's smirk. His eyes blink slowly, lazily, as he watches the other man inspect their work. "They're quite something. I'm sure it's no small feat to evade your notice." Henri shrugs, leaning back to prop himself up on his hands.

"Well, no matter. He meant no harm to anyone." Jaezred waves a flippant hand to dismiss the mannequin of starlight, but Henri recognises all too well the sight of a man whose ego has been pricked. He turns around to face Henri, a smile returning to his lips as he studies the lounging human. "I take it you've heard of the beast in the Court of Sorcery. You already know I reside in the Witching Court — it's killed someone from there. Terribly tragic…"

"Yes, just awful news. My heart goes out to the victims." Henri pats the seat of the chaise next to him. "Though not poorly timed. I need to go to the Court of Sorcery anyway to see about Glastor. Tell me, does the name 'The Lady of the Well' mean anything to you?"

Jaezred sits down beside him. "Not really, though I suppose it's got something to do with the Wellspring of Magic. Why do you ask?"

"The Wellspring of Magic. Hmm. No matter, we were just told to seek her out. I am sure someone in the Court will be able to point us in the right direction."

"Told by whom?"

Henri turns in his seat to face Jaezred, one leg sliding up to lay crossed in front of him. "Ah, well that's the important piece, isn't it? Thromdax isn't the only Archwyrm we've met, and it turns out one of us has the favour of their Queen." His eyebrows waggle up conspiratorially, his intent to tease clear in his eyes.

"Ooh. Look at you, our little prince, attracting so much cosmic attention." Jaezred's smile turns wolfish as he puts a hand on Henri's leg, sliding up to rest on his knee. "And after you've charmed the Queen of Wyrms, what did she tell you…?"

Henri leans forward at the touch. His voice is lower, and he grins through the words. "Oh, many things. Who the other Archwryms are. Why the Primordials are acting this way. What might happen were we to fail."

The hand slides up further to Henri's inner thigh and gives a squeeze. "Mm. Details, Henri, I need details. Or am I going to have to fuck them out of you?"

"Mm." Henri's grey eyes flick down to the hand gripping his thigh before returning to stare deep into Jaezred's own of brilliant red. "As tempting as that is, I couldn't possibly tell you everything and receive nothing in return."

"Tsk tsk, bratty aren't we? Alright... What can I do for you, Mr. Fitzroy?"

Henri's smile flashes. "The Archwyrms... they hide things. Keys. That I, we, need. That the Incarnates can't have. If you were to learn where one was..." Henri's voice trails off, and he leans forward even further, his throat settling into a low whisper. "Maybe... I would share more with you."

A low growl escapes Jaezred's throat. He leans in to kiss Henri's neck, soft lips trailing upwards to caress his stubbled jaw as an arm snakes around his waist, pulling him closer.

Henri's eyes close at the kiss, a low, soft groan escaping his lips. He lets himself be pulled in, giving in to Jaezred's advances, the feeling of being desired.

"What with your queenly favour, I'd have thought you already know where to find these keys," Jaezred's baritone voice murmurs, his breath warming Henri's ear.

"You know the power of information." Dancing fingers find the nape of Jaezred's neck, pulling him closer. "And the danger of one who knows too much. Even a Queen."

"Hmmm. I understand."

Jaezred pulls away. His dark skin is flushed, his crimson eyes hazy with lust, but burns no less intensely. He takes the silver scarf off Henri's shoulders and begins binding it around Henri's wrists.

"Very well. If another Archwyrm comes waltzing into the teahouse and puts that information on my lap, you would be the first to know."

Fingers find the hem of Henri's breeches, pulling them off with a single motion and tossing them away. A smirk quirks at the edge of the drow lord's lips as his gaze trawls every inch of the man beneath him, exposed and wanting.

"The fucking, I'll give that for free."

"Oh, Jaezred…" Henri's own hot cheeks are a stark contrast to his milky white skin. The silver fabric around Henri's wrists flows and shifts, the many doorways that come and disappear beginning to creak open, welcoming, inviting in…

Before they all begin to shut. "Nothing is ever free," Henri whispers, his mouth agape with lust twisting to smile instead. The scarf moves, its threads separating and swimming of their own accord, crawling up their master's skin to form hundreds of runes in an incomprehensible language.

Henri pulls away, pushing Jaezred back and rising up on his knees atop the chaise. His hand reaches out to stroke the drow's chin. "You've had your taste. You can have more once you've earned it."

A look of surprise crosses Jaezred's face for a moment, before it is broken by a mirthful laugh. "Very well then."

He grasps Henri's chin and pulls him down for a passionate kiss. "Until next time… my little prince."

Darkness creeps in from the edges of Henri's vision, gradually engulfing the lounge around them, the chaise longue underneath him, and finally, Jaezred.

When Henri awakes in his bed in the Four Fair Winds, golden rays of the morn filtering in through the curtains, he can still taste the drow lord on his lips.

Last Edit: Dec 6, 2023 22:29:32 GMT by Henri Fitzroy

Character: Henri Fitzroy - Lvl 8 Variant Human Great Old One Warlock
Discord: Alex (he/him) | __scratch

Henri Fitzroy
New Member

Posts: 43

Sweet Dreams, Little Prince Aug 25, 2023 15:36:24 GMT Jaezred Vandree, Andy Davy, and 3 more like this

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Post by Henri Fitzroy on Aug 25, 2023 15:36:24 GMT

(Following the events of A Research Favour.)

Late afternoon, Jaezred strides into the Gilded Mirror with a huge black hound with red eyes, almost as big as a wolf, padding by his side sans leash. He's wearing a breezy linen shirt under a crimson frock coat and cream trousers, a white neckerchief tied loosely around his collar.

"Mr. Fitzroy! Good to see you again," he says as approaches the bar. "Would you kindly pour a pint of ale for me and a bowl of milk for He'lylbreia here?"

"Ah! Lord Jaezred. Coming right up." Behind the bar, wearing a tailored white shirt beneath a deep blue vest, Henri fetches a glass and a bowl. The bowl he sets on the bar, a jug quickly rising of its own accord to fill it; the glass, he tips under one of the many tapped barrels. "What brings you to the Mirror this fine afternoon?"

"You, actually." Jaezred smiles and leans in, his gaze trawling up and down Henri's outfit appreciatively. "What time does your shift end? I have something that I think you would very much like to hear about."

Even with his back to the bar, Jaezred can see Henri's eyes shine in interest at the mention of news. He turns back, the bowl floating down to rest at He'lylbreia's feet, and sets the pint down at Jaezred's elbow.

"It must be important if you've come all this way." Henri leans forward onto the bar, his forearm flat on the smooth, oiled wood. "I'll be here all night, I'm afraid," he continues, his gaze cast out over the floor of the Mirror, inspecting the patrons. "But you're in luck - we probably have an hour or so before it gets busy."

His eyes flicks back to Jaezred, and a small smirk curls the corner of his lip. "Is that long enough for you?"

"No," Jaezred murmurs, sounding almost like a hungry growl. "Not in the least."

His gaze finds the shift manager in the bar, a mustachioed gnome chatting cheerfully with some fey patrons who'd come in early. "I'll see what I can do."

"I'll be waiting." Henri leans back, grabbing a towel from under the bar and a few newly cleaned glasses.

The shadows that compose He'lylbreia's form shifts and re-shapes, turning from a hound into a sleek panther, and they lap at the bowl of milk as Jaezred walks towards the shift manager.

The gnome turns to the drow nobleman with a huge grin. Henri watches as the sycophantic smile under his silly moustache slowly shrinks and shrinks the longer Jaezred speaks, and the fey patrons around them scoff and guffaw in both surprise and amusement.

Eventually, the gnome mutters, "Yes, my lord," and marches towards the bar with a sullen look.

"It's your lucky night, boy," he grumbles at Henri. "You can clock out before the rush."

Meanwhile, Jaezred has taken a seat at a table across the tavern, pint in hand. He'lylbreia finishes their bowl of milk and goes to join him, lounging at his feet. He shoots Henri a smirk.

The smirk is returned with a wink before Henri turns back to his manager, quietly thanking him and apologizing for the trouble. He gestures towards the kegs, eliciting a scoff from the gnome who walks away with his hands in the air.

It isn't too much longer before Henri has joined Jaezred at the table, his own pint in hand. "So, that silver tongue is good for something."

"And you're about to find out what else it's good for."

Jaezred leans back in his seat and takes a gulp of his ale. "But before that. I have news for you from the Court of Sorcery."

"Do you now. Nothing I've heard already, I hope." His words are as nonchalant as he can muster, but his body gives him away - his shoulders leaned over the table, his eyes widening slightly in excitement.

Jaezred chuckles. "Well, I think this news may make the rounds in future weeks, but I thought I should deliver it to you in its unadulterated form, before the inevitable game of sending stones begins. It's surprisingly sensitive."

"Yes, word certainly gets around, doesn't it..." Henri leans back, crossing one leg over the other. "But how lucky I am, to be remembered. So what is it?" He takes a long sip, eyeing the fellow noble over the lip of the glass.

"A young lad was saying that he was hired by an Unseelie researcher in the Court of Sorcery by the name of Rylas Thanim. This Thanim fellow was curious about the same thing as you: why the Coven of Sorcery is so guarded about the Lady of the Well. He sent a group of adventurers down an old well, into the Feydark, bade them find what's under the Wellspring of Magic. They walked for a few hours and saw a stream of blue liquid flowing on the ceiling that they followed; this liquid has explosive interactions with magic upon close contact, apparently, so be careful with that. Past a couple of fomorians — now dead — they found a set of stone doors, a hundred feet tall and heavy as anything. Above the doors is written, in Sylvan, 'Here lies the Lady', or something to that effect. My source's Sylvan was a bit rusty."

"Hmm." From a pocket inside Henri's vest, a small notebook floats out into his outstretched hand. He flips it to a new page and scratches a few notes with a quill taken from his pocket. "Fomorians, you say? Interesting. And your source, did they open this door?"

"They did, by creating a smaller door using the stone shape spell. Work smarter, not harder, eh?" Jaezred winks from behind his pint glass. "Behind the doors is a vast chamber. In the centre of the chamber is a concentration of the blue liquid — the Wellspring of Magic. Within the Wellspring is a flame, and the flame unfurled to become the largest dragon any of them ever saw, with pearlescent scales and iridescent wings. She called herself the Opal Dragon, an Archwyrm. That, my dear Henri, is your Lady of the Well."

Henri scratches more notes, flipping to another page filled with rubbings of different symbols. His eyes linger on one in particular: A seven pointed star surrounded with blue flame.

"I see... and this Lady of the Well was sleeping, yes? And your source and their party woke it? That might make her the one slumbering in the Feywild..." he mutters, his thoughts cast inward. "She didn't provide any other names, did she? Each of these Archwyrms have had a scroll's worth of titles."

"'The Maiden of Magic' was another that was mentioned. Anyway, she was not happy about her nap being interrupted, told the adventurers to leave at once and forget what they saw, and she sealed the small door behind them. So shaken were the adventurers that some of them lied to Thanim about what they'd found. He still has no idea what he's got on his hands. Nonetheless, he plans to send another team of expendables down there, quietly of course. So keep an eye out for that, but proceed cautiously, for Thanim answers to masters within the Gloaming Court."

"Gloaming... Court..." With a final flourish, Henri shuts the notebook, grinning. "Is that a note of concern I hear, mi'lord? You wouldn't be worried about me, would you?"

"You flatter yourself... My little prince. Well, I hope that was useful for you?" A rhetorical question. Obviously he knows it was.

"I suppose this might be of use," Henri drawls, his notebook floating safely back to his pocket as he leans in his chair, a hand raised as though weighing the value of what it's written. "Though I won't know for certain until I see this Lady for myself." His lips break into a wolfish grin at the challenge.

"Oh?" Henri feels his chair being pulled closer to Jaezred. "You're going to make me wait that long?"

Henri's eyes flash, a wave of excitement passing through him at the gesture. "I wouldn't dream of it. But I have a reputation to uphold, you see. I wouldn't want anyone to think they could take advantage of me. What if your source is no good?" His protestations are half-hearted, each paired with a grin aimed to urge the other man forward. And with each, the chair eases forward inch by inch.

The chair comes to a halt where their knees touch. He'lylbreia looks up at Henri with curious, blinking eyes, purring quietly before their form melts into the shadows on the floor. Around the two of them, more and more patrons are pouring into the tavern as the workday is drawing to a close.

"You say that as if you wouldn't take pleasure in having more men vie for your attention. Longing to taste your name on their tongues," Jaezred murmurs. "I haven't forgotten how ready you were for me, already throbbing before I even touched you there."

"And I haven't forgotten how eager you were," Henri whispers in reply. "What else is that silver tongue good for, hmm?"

Jaezred answers that with a kiss, passionate as the last one they shared. His tongue, hot and wet, presses against Henri's lips, begging for entry.

The kiss elicits a low groan from Henri, whose lips part in welcoming. He pulls himself closer, closer, until he is sitting at the edge of his seat, his thighs squeezing Jaezred's own. His idle hands find their purpose, too, caressing cream coloured fabric. Hungry for the body beneath.

The moment stretches, and with no small amount of effort Henri pulls back, just enough to whisper hot, breathy words.

"Did that silver tongue arrange for a room, too?"

"That depends. Are you going to leave me hanging too this time?"

Not waiting for an answer, Jaezred's lips trail from Henri's jaw down to the neck, where he bites down gently and sucks on the soft skin.

The patrons of the Mirror are stealing glances at the two of them. A few are visibly gasping. A handful watch on with lascivious smirks.

Henri's neck arches, his teeth biting lightly into his lips as shivers run down his spine. "Mmm... Well, you have been good. You did as you were told... and you should be rewarded for your efforts." His hands find Jaezred's back, pulling him closer; one brushes up the back of the crimson frock until it finds his hair, the fingers tugging lightly at the roots.

"Good…" Jaezred moans and moves his head back up, his flushed face an inch away from Henri's own. A ravenous grin spreads across his face as his eyes briefly flicker over to the crowd secretly gawking at them. "Then let's make a scandal."

Henri's eyes flash in excitement, his lip bitten in anticipation. "I've always wanted to be the talk of the town."

It's late night when Lord Jaezred is finally, totally spent. He collapses on the bed next to Henri with a happy sigh. The scent of sweat and musk hangs in the air of his suite at the Four Fair Winds.

Henri's eyes are closed, his breaths still heavy from exertion, as he turns his chin gently to point in Jaezred's direction. "Mmm. No small wonder an hour wasn't enough. Have you been satisfied?"

"Just so," he says, but his grin is teasing and his eyes hazy with tired contentment. He scoots closer to Henri, silken white hair spilling over his shoulder and Henri's as he comes in for a cuddle. "And yourself?"

At the tender embrace, Henri's eyebrow rises in surprise. It lasts only a beat, though, before he settles into it, draping his free arm around Jaezred's shoulders and pulling him closer. "What can I say? You were magical."

If Jaezred's cheeks aren't fully flushed pink right now, Henri imagines he would be blushing as his grin turns into a small, shy smile. "You're flattering. And worth every second of the wait...and more."

Henri chuckles softly at that, each rise of his bare chest reflecting a different mote of dim moonlight shining in through the window. "I am glad to hear it. Such important information is deserving of a very thorough reward."

Jaezred props his head up on a hand and gazes upon the work he has done on Henri's pale and perfect body: red bite marks on his neck, his chest, his nipples, his inner thighs. Delicious.

"Mmm. I've been a good boy, haven't I?" He rests his head on Henri's chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, listening to the heartbeat within. "Would you join me and my partner for dinner someday? I should like the two of you to meet."

"Hmm," Henri mumbles, alighting a soft kiss upon his brow. "And have to share you? I suppose, if you insist."

He grins softly, tiredly, even though Jaezred's gaze lingers elsewhere. "Will dinner come with a side of tea, too?"

"With me, tea is always served. Stay the night. I'll make us breakfast tomorrow." He kisses Henri's jaw sleepily and settles in next to him, slowly slipping into reverie.

Henri listens quietly as Jaezred's breathing begins to slow, until finally he alone is left awake. He considers, briefly, slipping out from the embrace - but the thought passes, and it isn't long before sleep takes him as well.

Written with the cuddliest spider you'll ever meet, Jaezred Vandree

Last Edit: Dec 6, 2023 22:28:47 GMT by Henri Fitzroy

Character: Henri Fitzroy - Lvl 8 Variant Human Great Old One Warlock
Discord: Alex (he/him) | __scratch

Jaezred Vandree
Senior Member

🕸️The Spider Who Watches🕷️

Posts: 250

Sweet Dreams, Little Prince Nov 11, 2023 23:08:00 GMT Andy Davy, Orianna Èirigh, and 1 more like this

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Post by Jaezred Vandree on Nov 11, 2023 23:08:00 GMT

(After the events of Queen of Peace.)

As Henri opens the door, Jaezred immediately notices that he appears to have aged since the last time they spoke. Because of how dark his hair is, it’s easy to pick out the few white hairs by his temples. He looks surprised to see his evening visitor, but he smiles, leans against the doorframe, and asks what has happened that he should be so lucky.

“Hello, Henri. Liking the new look.” Jaezred winks. “Ah, but…may I come in? I think you ought to sit down when you hear this. Shock is much better absorbed with the knees bent.”

Henri steps aside to wave Jaezred in, before finding his own seat at the small desk in his room. “I see. Who died?”

“Someone did, but not to worry, they’ve been brought back,” the drow lord says as he leans on the desk. “I’ll cut straight to the point. Your paraelemental Primordials are preparing to take control of the Infinite Staircase. They have got a massive spell written out already, but they need significant power in order to cast it. Your friend Miss Calla has the details, as I understand it.”

“Ah.” The grin drops from Henri’s face, and for a moment the muscle in his jaw flexes at the news. “Shit. Yes, Calla did say she was off to the Court of Sorcery. Seems Glastor was further along than we had anticipated.”

“Yes. He’s been expelled from the Court of Sorcery for good, but in truth, the battle was a distraction for the slime Primordial to complete the creation of the spell. They could very well be planning to use the Wellspring of Magic as the power source.”

“Yes, such a spell should need an impossible amount of energy to cast, but…” Henri turns to the desk, quickly flicking through a few notebooks. “The Wellspring… I’ll have to speak to the others. Maybe there’s something we missed.”

Jaezred lets a silence fall between the two of them as Henri scans his notes. But after a minute, he glances down rather awkwardly at his well-polished shoes and speaks up again. “So, uh… How have you been? Where’d you get the new look?”

Henri looks up, still lost in thought for a moment. It doesn’t take long for the smile to return, though, and he twists in his chair to better face Jaezred. “Well, after a little sojourn in the Plane of Time, I came back a few years older. I’m glad you like it.” He winks, placing his elbow on the seat back and resting his head on his hand.

“Well, that sounds exciting. Did you find out anything interesting?”

“Oh, plenty. We were after Throdrazz’s key piece. You remember that garnet dragonborn that I spoke to in Gossamer Threads? Same Archwyrm. Turns out they just threw it into the Plane of Time, and needed us to find it.” Henri stands up and goes over to a bookcase where a small bottle rests, pulling two glasses down and gesturing to Jaezred.

“Just threw it in the Plane of Time, eh? These Archwyrms are so whimsical.” Jaezred walks over and takes a glass from Henri, waiting until the other man is pouring wine into it before asking his next question. “I was just wondering. How is the search for the pieces faring? Well on track?”

“Well, at last count we have four, and it appears the Primordials have three. Which leaves two left in play before all the pieces are on the board.” He finishes pouring, and after filling his own glass, sighs. “There are more of them each day, too. Many appear neutral to the conflict so far, but it won't be long before they have to pick a side.”

He raises his glass to Jaezred, and winks again. “Luckily, I am very persuasive.”

Jaezred frowns as he swirls his glass. “They’ve got three and you’ve got four? Seems there’s…a lot hanging in the balance…”

“Yes, there is, but we have the central piece and another designed to find the others. Plus one for creating natural disasters and another for viewing the future. I think we’ll manage.”

“And what pieces do they have?”

“Unclear! We don’t know much about the others. These Archwyrms don’t particularly like to discuss them.”

Jaezred’s jaw drops open. “Uh… And you’re not concerned about this?”

Henri shrugs, and takes a sip of wine. “Concerned? Absolutely. These Primordials have made clear they will go to great lengths to achieve their goals. But we have successfully retrieved the pieces from the four Archwyrms I have met, and I am not even a Herald. The Heralds can manage the rest, and I will help wherever I can.

“I am more concerned for the Primordials’ intentions with the Staircase. And, even so, it is not something they can destroy. Maybe misuse.”

“Right. Apologies, I didn’t mean to be a wet blanket. I’m a glass-half-empty kind of person, it’s in my nature. And speaking of…” Jaezred tips the glass into mouth and drains half its contents. “Ah. Lolth’s beautiful tits, I’ve got a lot on my plate…”

“No need to apologise, it is certainly a lot. But it’s in good hands.” Henri raises the wine bottle along with an eyebrow. “But tell me. What has you so unravelled?”

Jaezred chuckles, leaning in closer. “Aside from a potential Second Dawn War? If I were to begin now, I would spend the whole night talking at you, and I think you’d prefer me to do other things to you…” Just as a finger goes up and begins tracing Henri’s stubbled jawline, he suddenly pulls back. “But I’d hate to disturb you from your thinking and strategising.”

“Hmm.” Henri swirls his wine before taking another sip. “I’m sure Calla will be telling the others about this latest development, so there’s no great hurry… But still, I should see that they don’t do anything I’ll regret.” He grins, and leans in where Jaezred had pulled back. “Can you skip the boring parts for me?”

“Ooh, so eager. I really am quite tired today, so how about you do the work this time…?” He takes Henri’s free hand and guides it down and around his thigh, and then leaves it on the curve of his rear.

“Oh, my poor little spider…” Henri pulls him in closer, a devilish grin revealing his teeth. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jaezred wraps his arms around Henri’s neck and goes in for a tender kiss, melting into the embrace. “I’ve missed you,” he sighs against Henri’s lips.

The two turn in their embrace, Henri laying Jaezred down gently on the bed behind them. He isn’t far behind, either, soon laying next to him. Henri’s hands take in all they can of Jaezred, pulling him closer, tugging at his waists.

In a gap between breaths, he is just able to make out a reply: “I missed you too.”

Co-written with Henri Fitzroy

Character: Jaezred Vandree - Level 20 Dark Elf Warlock (The Archfey)/Rogue
Discord: Jaz | dddd124

🎓 Graduate 🎓

Henri Fitzroy
New Member

Posts: 43

Sweet Dreams, Little Prince Apr 13, 2024 23:08:08 GMT Jaezred Vandree, Andy Davy, and 1 more like this

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Post by Henri Fitzroy on Apr 13, 2024 23:08:08 GMT

When Jaezred comes knocking on Henri's door with flowers and cake in his arms, the first words on his lips are, quite unexpectedly, “How is Beatrice?”

The door is thrown open, and Henri has a grin on his face. He eyes the flowers, and the cake, and asks: "Who's Beatrice?"

He peers past Henri into the room. "Beatrice. I was sure you'd be acquainted by now."

A little spider — the very same one that has persisted in nesting in Henri’s room no matter what the housekeepers do — is sitting patiently on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Oh, Beatrice. Of course. She hasn't been very talkative, and I'm afraid we did get off on the wrong foot." Henri steps aside, welcoming Jaezred in. "Keeping eyes on me, are we?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jaezred replies coyly. "I just thought you needed someone to keep you company whilst I was away."

He gives Henri the flowers, puts the cake down, and scoops up Beatrice into his hand. "How are we doing, darling?" he says to the spider and lifts her up next to his ear. "Oh, really now? Interesting... No, did he really? Oh my... Oh, stop it... Beatrice, you tart."

"Whatever she is telling you, I am sure it wasn't me. Or it was, and it was better than she's saying." He smells the flowers, breathing them in deep before letting them float over to his desk. "You didn't have to do all this, it's not that big a deal."

"What's not a big deal?"

"Oh-" Henri stops with his hand hovered over the cake, confused for a moment. He straightens up, puffing up his chest, a grin clear on his face. "You stand in the presence of the newly anointed Herald of the Gemstone Prophet, the Great Seer, the Garnet Dragon Throdrazz."

Jaezred slowly turns around to face Henri, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. "The one who infiltrated my teahouse unseen?"

Henri chuckles, winking as he takes a step forward. "The very same."

"Well, if you could tell them not to do that again, that'd be great..." Jaezred grins and pulls him close. "So, Henri the Herald... Now, when did that happen?"

Henri's cheeks grow hot, and he carefully brushes a stray hair out of Jaezred's face. "One could say I was always a Herald, though I did not know it. But they confirmed it only the other day."

Jaezred sits Henri down on the edge of the bed, a mage hand apparating to pick up two forks for the cake. "Tell me everything."

Henri tells him everything between bites of the delicious red velvet cake; the journey to the moon, visiting with Andromeda (though leaving out the other Infinite that were present), and the eventual journey to the Plane of Smoke to discover the base of operations for the Primordials Incarnate.

"So with that discovery behind us, we returned to the moon. Andromeda collects trinkets, but one caught my eye - a puzzle box that she'd never been able to open. She'd had it for.. millennia? And it was just waiting for me." From his pocket, a medium sized ruby eye floats up and out, gently doing in the air. "And inside was this, along with a note - Hi, Henri."

Jaezred has been quiet as Henri tells his story, but his eyes seem to brim with unvoiced questions.

"For a millennia? Sounds like they've been waiting for you to come along then... But sorry, the moon? You went to the moon? That's where the Staircase people live?"

"So it would seem. Good thing I'm worth the wait." Henri winks again, rubbing a small bit of icing from the corner of his lips with his thumb. "But yes, did I not mention? Andromeda has been recovering after her ordeal last year and I figured it was time to visit."

Jaezred's thumb goes up to wipe a spot on Henri’s lips that he's missed. "Right, I see, so the moon isn't Selûne's brilliant white arse or anything, it's a giant rock hanging in the sky? But how did it get there in the first place?"

"How did the moon get there? No idea. Maybe they'd know at the Academy. Or the Temple of Selûne."

"Hmm. I think I might be about to blow Sister Velania's mind wide open. But anyway, the ruby. Typical cute tricks of a seer, isn't it? What does it do? Have they given you any other goodies? I certainly hope they're a kinder master than your Infinite patron."

"I'm... not sure yet. Orianna received one similar to this that let her speak to her Archwyrm, but I haven't tried."

Jaezred stares at Henri as he ponders the ruby. Whatever questions Henri is grappling with, he knows only Henri can find the answers to them. "Well, there's no rush," the drow says. "Your wyrm being a prophet, I'm sure they know when the right time would be and all that."

"Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. I have to get Throdrazz's key back from the Primordials, too, so that might be a good next step."

"Yes, indeed. Have you got a plan for that yet?"

"Of course I do! You think too little of me," he responds, giving Jaezred a playful shove. "I just need some details. Like where it is. And how to get there."

"Aha. Minor details." Jaezred chuckles. "So... You thought I brought you cake and flowers to congratulate you on your Heraldhood?"

"Well, no other reason comes to mind. Unless you've decided to make an honest man out of me?"

The chuckle turns into a laugh. “Why would I need a particular reason to give you flowers and treats? Oh, and by the way…” He grasps Henri’s chin gently and pulls him in for a long and deep kiss, letting Henri taste the sugar on his lips. “Congratulations on becoming a Herald. You’re going to be great.”

Henri's tongue flicks out to savour it through a small smile. "Thank you." His eyes saccade from lip to eye and back again. "So I am to take this as the norm, then? A spider to watch over me and a gift for no reason?"

"Is that so bad?"

"I.. suppose not." With a playful shove of his shoulder, he continues. "Though what would I get the man who has everything, in return?"

Jaezred takes a moment to think. Then his crimson eyes light up and a wicked grin slowly spreads across his face. Beatrice takes this cue to scuttle off his hand and tuck her small body into a hole in the wall.

“You know…” he says, pausing to kiss the back of Henri's hand. “If we can indeed walk on the moon, then surely we can fuck on the moon?”

Jaezred's grin is matched with one of Henri's own. "I am sure something could be arranged." Henri falls back onto the bed, pulling the drow on top of him, plate and forks hitting the ground with a clatter. "You've never tasted the delights of the Staircase, have you?"

"Not yet." Jaezred takes off his jacket, tosses it aside, pulls his waistcoat and shirt over his head, and tosses those aside too. "Do they taste as sweet as your nectar, I wonder?"

Henri grins in anticipation. "They taste like anything you'd like them to. The sweet fields of Elysium or the acrid wastes of Hades. That's the best part." With outstretched hands, Henri pulls Jaezred in, a hand on the back of his head and a hand on the back of his neck and his teeth on his ear.

"All it costs is a moment of your soul." He lightly bites down. "If you ask nicely, I'd pay it for you."

Jaezred pauses and locks eyes with Henri. "A moment of your soul? Gerhard talked about how dangerous it was but he never mentioned that. What does that mean?"

"It means that the wonders of the Staircase come at a price. It gives everything of itself, and it asks for a little of you in return." Henri's voice becomes a low, sad whisper. "And the more you give, the more you want to give, until there is nothing left."

Jaezred sits up, the uneasiness written clearly on his face. “I-I… Henri, I cannot ask that of you. Ever.”

Henri rises up on his elbows. From the corner of Jaezred's eye, threads of silver float lazily towards the two, until they come to wrap around Henri's hand. They squeeze, his pale skin turning whiter still under the gentle pressure.

He turns his eye to Jaezred, his grey eyes reflecting the silver, turning excited. "And you will not have to. The more I give, the more I become part of it and the more it becomes part of me. And you would be under my care."

“What the Hells…?” Jaezred growls under his breath as he looks down on the threads coiling and constricting around Henri’s hand. He clasps his hands on both of Henri’s cheeks and stares desperately into those silver orbs. “Henri, *enough!*”

The threads relax, and Henri's excitement is replaced with concern, and then confusion. "This is what I want, Jaezred. I will be eternal. Infinite."

“But you would not be you,” Jaezred whispers.

"You're right. I would be so much more."

The drow lord gets off Henri, staggering back to lean against the wall. He takes a moment to breathe in and out, whilst never taking his gaze off the other man. “You wish to be a powerful immortal?”

Henri slowly sits up, getting to his feet and slowly stepping towards Jaezred. His voice is steady, his eyes wide, his smile beginning to border on the fanatic. "It is what I deserve. It is what I am owed. I will take my place amongst them and I will be back in the embrace of the Staircase once more."

"Right. Let's say that happens. What comes after? You go to live on the moon and do what?"

"Whatever I want. Wherever I want. Whenever I want."

"Which is...?"

Henri stops mid-stride, his expression faltering in the moment it takes him to regain his composure. "What does it matter? I will do as the Staircase bids me."

"Of course it matters what you plan to do with such power. It seems you don't even know what you want."

Jaezred looks him up and down. "No, that's not quite right. You have no idea what to do with an Infinite's power, but that does not mean you do not know what you want. It means you're after something other than power."

The question hits Henri like a blow, forcing him to take a step back. "And what do you know of it?" His eyes search Jaezred for an answer to the question that brims in his mind: why this one has joined the cacophony of voices asking what he wants.

"What do you think I want, then, hmm? If power isn't enough for you. If station and title and..." he sputters, trailing off before he can continue the thought. "Tell me. I'd love to know."

“It could be any number of things. Recognition. Respect. Or perhaps you simply want to be part of the Infinite, a group bound together by something so unique that none can say you do not belong, no matter what.” Jaezred cocks his head to one side as he continues to study Henri. “In other words, a family.”

"I.." Henri stammers. The heat rises in his cheeks - for the calm in Jaezred's voice, for its absence in his own. For the truth in his words.

For the lies he tells himself.

"You know nothing of what I want."

Jaezred purses his lips. “Henri, I know this because you and I were not so different once.“

Henri jaw clenches. "Once. And now you've changed, have you? The great Lord Jaezred towering over me, extending his righteous hand."

He shakes his head. “No, it isn’t like that. I learnt, in the hardest way possible, that I did not need to give up everything of myself in order to be loved.”

The moment stretches into a pause stretches into a silence and Henri can think of nothing to say. He realizes he's holding his breath. He turns away, his head low, his voice lower. "You will not shake me from my path, Jaezred."

From behind him, he hears faint rustling sounds as Jaezred picks up his discarded clothes. Soon, the door creaks open.

There is another long pause. Another breath being held.

“Good night, Henri.”

The door quietly clicks shut.

Co-written with Jaezred Vandree

Last Edit: Apr 13, 2024 23:12:17 GMT by Henri Fitzroy

Character: Henri Fitzroy - Lvl 8 Variant Human Great Old One Warlock
Discord: Alex (he/him) | __scratch