As weeks roll into a month, and a month into two, Essek's laboratory comes together. He spends much of his time there, naturally, putting things in order and arranging them as he likes, shelves, furniture, and arcane equipment alike. Percival checks in at times, and Essek is happy--eager, even--to show him each new instrument as it arrives, to explain its function and offer a practical demonstration of his specific use for it.
They've gotten on very well these last couple months. It's impossible not to notice. Essek is introduced formally, and they spend a lot of time together between Essek's newly minted position on the council and beginning to share duties in the management of the castle itself.
But even outside of duty, the leisure time they spend in each other's company has increased exponentially from their previous nightly dinner meetings. They share space in the library often, both companionably quiet and reading or occasionally chatting about whatever topic strikes their fancy. Essek visits Percival's workshop for the first time, and then several times after, intrigued and impressed by his inventions. He even begins, entirely for his husband's benefit, to take riding lessons. He's hilariously bad at it, but at least it's amusing for Percy. They share interests and stories and bits of culture back and forth. Essek learns more about Whitestone and the de Rolo lineage, and Percy becomes privy to more information about the intricacies of the Kryn Dynasty and Xhorhas in general than any other human who hasn't seen it first-hand. Sometimes, after they've passed the morning or afternoon doing one or more of these things, Percival will walk Essek to his chambers in the afternoon just to tell him good night before he trances through the brightest hours of the day. Essek finds it very sweet, and has lately begun to do the same in reverse.
It's strange, but Essek could swear that Percival grows more handsome by the day.
Essek is arranging his personal library in his tower today, perched on the tallest rung of a ladder twenty feet tall and lifting each book individually from a trunk on the floor with magic, floating them up into his waiting hands to be placed where they belong on this topmost shelf. His cloak is tossed over the chair at his desk below, leaving him in the dark, well-tailored Xhorhassian-style clothes he typically wears beneath, fitted breeches and a tunic with a high collar and subtle geometric print.
The knock on the door comes as he's suspending a book midair. It doesn't so much as waver on its way up to his open palm. He and gravity have been good friends for a long time now.
"Enter!" He calls, pitching his voice to carry down the distance to the door. He knows already that was not a servant's knock, and he feels himself smile already in anticipation. It's certainly a little silly, getting excited to see someone he sees every day--the man he is already married to, no less. But he allows himself that slight giddiness with the excuse that it is better to be happy to see one's spouse than not.
The more time they spend together, the more he sees of Essek. Though the wizard can still be subtle in his expression, Percival is privy to smiles, to intelligent conversation and gentle debate, and more information about the Kryn Dynasty than he could ever have hoped to have without living there. Perhaps even then.
And he finds himself genuinely interested - and enthused - as Essek builds his workshop to his liking. Percy is fascinated by the tools of his trade, by what Essek can potentially do with them. It gives him a quiet thrill that his husband has taken to his position on the council with such interest. The others have been somewhat slow to come around, uncertain given how foreign the drow man is, but they have come around, one by one. As Essek proves himself serious in his role, the others have given him more leeway.
He finds himself in Essek's tower again. And Percy realizes, as he steps through the door, that he's here for no particular reason. He'd been walking, wondering, and his feet carried him here. He closes the door after himself and he smiles when he sees Essek on the ladder, a book floating to him. And, perhaps for a moment, Percival allows himself to admire this man he's married. The cut and style of the clothes Essek wears are flattering, and it always feels like something of a treat to catch his husband without his cloak obscuring him.
"How goes it?" he asks, absently taking a book from the trunk, curious about the volumes Essek has been bringing in. He gets reports about the money spent, but he has no reason to curtail the wizard's project. Nor does he feel the need to oversee it too closely.
He looks up at Essek again with a rather fond look.
"Try this one," Essek calls, and quirks a finger to lift the book Percy is currently examining out of his hands and replace it with another, which floats up to him from the box at his feet: On Dunamis and the Magnification of Gravity. Essek grabs the discarded book from the air and shelves it. "Part of my personal collection from home," he purrs--or near enough to it from twenty feet above. "You may find the concepts intriguing."
Rather than climbing down, Essek simply steps off the top of the ladder and drifts in a slow, leisurely drop. It brings him within a pace of Percival, the tips of his toes just barely brushing the floor.
"And as you can see, I have made a great deal of progress."
A sweeping gesture around them indicates a functional wizard's workroom. Mid-morning sunlight would normally be streaming in through the tall windows, but Essek's enchantment has cast them in perpetual night, much like the skies above Rosohna. Stars twinkle there in accurate alignment with the constellations above Whitestone at this time of year. Cool-toned mage lights drift in place of torch sconces around the room, and Essek's desk, a sturdy thing of striking red Vermaloc wood--quite literally a piece of home--is already covered in the work he has begun over the last month. The shelves are lined with books and arranged with strange and beautiful arcane objects, a cabinet on one wall holds a plethora of components, and a basic magic circle, a starting point for most spells, has been carved into the very stone of the floor. Essek has made the space his own both functionally and aesthetically.
"What do you think?" he asks. "A suitable use for a spare tower?"
Without issue, Percy lets one book go in favor of taking the other. He flips it open, skimming the first few pages curiously. He almost doesn't hear Essek as he continues, already sinking into what he's been offered. It takes Essek dismounting the ladder with spectacular effect to draw his attention back. He keeps the book open, fingers lightly on the page where he'd left off.
"I think it suits you," he says with a soft look. He looks up toward the windows, a bit thrown by the perfect rendition of Whitestone's night sky when he knows there is daylight. Still, the stars are familiar and he cannot help but smile. Everything about this tower is so different than his own workspace, and yet... it isn't. Percy has components and tools and all manner of things that he needs there. They just look different.
His gaze drifts to the desk, the rich wood that is almost foreign to him. He's never seen a whole piece of furniture made with it.
"And I am glad to see the tower getting use. It would be a shame to leave the space empty when it can serve a purpose." Percy wanders closer to the magic circle carved into the floor, mostly curious. He's seen things like it before, though he rarely took the time to actually look at them. Then he looks at Essek again.
Essek taps the edge of the book in Percy's hand with a single finger, a satisfied smirk curling across his lips. "Once you get past the forward you will need me to cast Comprehend Languages on you. Most of it is in Undercommon."
He drifts to the desk, where he settles himself in a perch on the edge of it, one leg folding elegantly over the other.
"Honestly, this was the most difficult acquisition. But I had to have it. The Vermaloc borders Rosohna, so homes and furniture are traditionally made with this wood. For my own space, it was...important."
Observing his husband's curiosity about the circle, Essek offers, "I will demonstrate that for you when I next have use for it, if you like. It is useful for casting and crafting spells that require a physical representation of the arcane diagram."
Entirely unbidden, Percy can feel a bit of heat creeping into his face when Essek so casually offers to cast Comprehend Languages. Memories of a certain pair of twins taunting him with their knowledge of Abyssal rushes to the surface and he can feel a smile threatening.
He clears his throat.
"Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you." Clearly he needs to start learning Undercommon sooner than later if this is something he's going to run into often. And, before he can think to stop himself, he says: "Though, casting would deny me the pleasure of listening to you translate."
It's a smooth, casual flirtation that he makes just before looking up from the book to meet Essek's gaze. There is a part of him that cannot believe he's just said that, but he also can't bring himself to try to take it back or apologize. It's true, after all. And... is it very wrong to flirt, just a bit, with his husband?
It is smooth, but equally startling. Pleasantly so. Though Essek has been deliberately avoiding anything of the sort himself, he finds it absolutely delights him to be the recipient of Percy's obvious flirtation this way.
"You have interesting priorities, Percival," he says, a bit smug and not hiding it. His chin tilts up a little, and he smiles enough to show a hint of fang. "This is a subject I could expand upon at length, if you wish." The words themselves may not be directly flirtatious, but the way Essek speaks them, gently amused, has certain implications. "Perhaps you have the right of it. Surely a translation from a native speaker would prove more accurate than a spell, and I do not mind taking this time with you."
Whether Percy is honestly interested in him is very much a matter for further deliberation and observation, and an intriguing thought worth some serious consideration all on its own. But even if this is just for fun, Essek is enjoying it.
"So I have often been told," he quips back, his own smile soon mirroring Essek's. It's rather nice knowing the wizard isn't opposed to - or offended by - the banter. And that he's willing to participate. The flash of sharper teeth is--well. Probably not a thought Percy should lingering on.
"A native speaker and expert in the field," he adds, eyes bright at the possibility. He quite likes the idea of learning that way, in part because it's an excuse to spend more time with Essek. And he's really come to look forward to every opportunity.
Percival closes the book and steps closer to offer it back to Essek, holding eye contact with his spouse as he does.
"I'll warn you, I'm a very dedicated student once I take an interest. Even if it's only in theory rather than practice."
"Mm," Essek agrees at a purr, practically preening with Percival's pointed praise. "So you should count yourself lucky indeed."
He accepts the book back with a slow blink and a carefully calculated brush of fingers. It's all in fun, and as Percy had started it, Essek can't see a reason why he shouldn't give him a little taste of how he behaves when he's flirting deliberately.
"Good. I would not consider teaching you if you were anything less."
That's entirely true, but also playful.
"I have ideas," he taps the cover of the book now sitting beside him on the desk, "for things the two of us might do together."
"I'm quite certain that you do, and I am ever at your disposal should you wish to share those ideas."
Percy keeps his gaze on Essek's face as he offers a polite bow. It's one thing to flirt; it's quite another to have the wizard flirting back, and he can't say he minds it. It seems to him that both he and Essek might have a propensity for brooding, and a bit of playful back-and-forth offers something far lighter. Percival's expectations of this relationship have been carefully managed since the outset, and this is a pleasant surprise, even if, in the end, it leads nowhere further.
"In detail, of course," he adds, daring a wink before he finally turns his attention back to the intriguing circle on the floor. He can't help it: he was curious about it before, and he still is, and he has questions--
"Is this used like a foundation? Simple enough that it can be built upon to support other spells? Or do you need to make changes to the circle itself ever?"
He imagines with chalk or something, adding to the lines and glyphs etched into the stone.
"The former. Its shape is basic, but can be used as a template for drawing more advanced sigils, typically with chalk enchanted for that purpose."
Essek slips off the table, and this time his feet actually touch the floor with a soft tap of the heel of his boots as he walks a few paces forward. He joins Percy by the circle, though not to aid his inspection. His expression is the sort of neutrality that passes as friendliness for him, and he stands by Percy's elbow.
"It is good that you have sought me out this morning, Percival," he says, clearly segueing to a topic that's been on his mind. "We are to appear together in Emon next week, and though our dancing lessons have been helpful, I thought it best that we iron out a few more significant details before we step out of our corner of the world and into Tal'Dorei's political scene at large."
While nothing about this topic embarrasses Essek--it's simply par for the course--it is understandably a little awkward to bring up out of the blue, and so he sounds slightly stilted in parts as he explains.
"Firstly, it has not escaped my attention, nor that of our peers, that while this marriage represents an incredibly beneficial alliance, it will not yield any heirs for Whitestone. I bring this up now only because I understand that humans tend to move rather quickly in these matters, and we are to appear publicly very soon. The position of your mistress will be a coveted and sought after one, as her children will become legitimized members of your family."
Essek says this casually and matter-of-factly, as though the idea of Percy having a mistress is a foregone conclusion, and he's never considered anything else.
"I know that most in my position would advise you to make an advantageous choice, or even demand to have a say in it. But I wanted to make it clear that I have no preference, and would be happy for you to choose a partner based on whatever traits you may consider most important to you personally. Whether that is a love match or something else, I have no wish to curtail you in any way. We are married, but I understand the nature of our arrangement."
Percy is thoroughly distracted by the possibility Essek describes and it takes a moment for him to catch up with the change in subject. He steps back from the circle and turns his full attention to Essek. This is a conversation that needs to happen, he knows that. Still, it isn't one that he anticipated for quite some time. He looks down, either to spare Essek's sensibilities or his own.
"There is no mistress to undermine you," he says first, as he thinks clearing that up is necessary. "And Cassandra is well-equipped to produce heirs to Whitestone, who would not need to be legitimized at all beyond recognition as my heirs as well as hers."
This is something he's made peace with. Percival never really thought he would marry after... everything. That Cassandra feels able to carry on the family name is a miracle as it is, and Percival sees no reason not to name a nephew or niece as an heir to the title.
"I've... honestly given no thought to children. Ever."
Not in a serious way. Once upon a time he'd assumed he would follow the same sort of path his parents did: marriage, children, a life in service to Whitestone in some way or another. But it was in the abstract, a thing far in the future. And he's quite aware that he is in that future now, but it still isn't something he has pursued with any intent.
"But I appreciate your candor on the matter." Percy stands straighter. "Was there another political matter you wanted to cover?"
Essek had started with firstly, which puts Percival in mind of having a list of subjects to go over.
There is more Essek would like to discuss, but Percy's response is clearly surprising enough to him to waylay that. "There is, yes. But...I am sorry to have presumed. The structure of a human noble family is very different from a Den, and I had assumed--"
He cuts himself off. What he had assumed clearly doesn't matter. If Percival hasn't thought about children, that is entirely his choice. "I apologize. If your sister is willing, the matter of an heir is resolved."
The room is quiet for a long moment, and it is all Essek can do to keep his feet anchored to the floor. He's spoken thoughtlessly, foolishly, and floating makes him feel less vulnerable. "I will add that should you ever wish to have someone in your life purely for companionship, I am not opposed. Perhaps that was implied, but for the sake of clarity: I do not consider you beholden to me in that way. I ask only to remain informed of close relationships."
Percy is feeling a bit on the back foot himself. He could have handled that better, but it had taken him off guard and that recovery was not graceful. It's difficult not to think of the way Whitestone used to be, to remember what it was like to share this place with six siblings. And to know how empty it is without them. Why shouldn't he want a family? It's clearly taken Essek by surprise as well.
"There is no reason why you shouldn't have presumed," he says, gentler this time. Really, Essek had the right of it. Were Percy a more typical noble, producing an heir would be a lingering preoccupation. A faint smile appears, not quite sad but... nearly there. "You had no reason to think otherwise."
As to the subject of companionship, Percival doesn't quite know how to say that he feels like he has found someone. Essek is intelligent, passionate, dedicated. His curiosity is charming and, even when he's smug, Percy finds himself quite drawn to his husband's company. An unexpected development, certainly, and perhaps one that Essek has either not noticed or not considered relevant.
He looks down at the etching in the floor. He rather wishes he hadn't given the book back, if only for something to do with his hands. Out of habit, Percy folds them behind his back.
"Of course," he says after a moment. Perhaps Essek is bringing it up because he is hoping for the freedom to pursue another? "And I should hope that you understand I would give you the same courtesy. If there is anyone you'd like to--if you should find yourself desiring or needing... someone."
Essek, equally out of habit, goes to steeple his fingers in front of him as he normally would beneath his cloak, but only half completes the motion. He isn't wearing it, and he feels very exposed. There's a grateful nod as Percy essentially excuses his social clumsiness, which is kind of him. But the cost is clear in the melancholy turn of his lips, and Essek--gods, this is why he's never even had friends until very recently. This is so difficult. He hadn't expected to genuinely care about Percival as much as he does.
"That is unlikely," he demures with a tight grimace, an attempt at humor. "I have always been a solitary creature. Still, it is reassuring to know that we are of the same mind."
Despite his words, part of him wants to touch Percy and seek a momentary connection, just something light and fleeting, a brush against his arm. He's done it before. But he doesn't have the resolve for it in the moment, so he remains still, hands pressed together in front of him.
"The time we have spent together has led me to believe that we likely share many of the same ideas. I have enjoyed it a great deal, and I would hate for any lack of communication to lead to resentment in the future. Of all the men I could have been sentenced to marry and shipped off to for the sake of an alliance, I am grateful that it was you. I feel...hopeful for a future here."
"I have as well," he says after a moment. "Enjoyed spending time with you, I mean. And I am grateful you don't find me particularly tyrannical."
He offers a smile then, something almost shy as he considers the drow wizard. It's likely good for him to be reminded that Essek is here as part of a sentence, basically, and not just a treaty. Percy still isn't wholly certain what he's done, but clearly it was serious enough for exile to be the most kind solution.
But it's good to hear that he has some sense of a future rather than a drawn-out decline.
"I know the circumstances around this aren't ideal, but we've both set out to make the best of it, I think, and I don't intend to give up on that."
Putting Essek up for a seat on the council had been both an exercise in his ultimate dominion and also democracy. It is his right to create new council seats, but the rest of the council has a say in who might fill them. If there were any intense objections, or if Essek had been unable to make a good case for his nomination, it might have fallen apart. But it didn't. And the fact that Essek is invested in his position gives Percy hope, too. Perhaps this isn't a love match, but they can at least build something good together.
Percy realizes he's gotten rather introspective and he offers Essek an apologetic look.
"Was there anything else you wished to iron out before we travel to Emon? I'm all ears, if there's anything I can do to put you at ease."
There will be no way to lessen the impact of Essek's presence - there simply aren't a lot of drow living openly anywhere in Tal'Dorei, never mind in the capital. There is a lot of mystery and dark rumors surrounding their civilization in the Underdark, some of which are entirely true.
"If anything, you have been the very opposite of tyrannical," Essek assures, though amusement leaks through in the subtle shift of his voice. That Percy might consider even for a moment that his behavior could meet that definition is honestly funny. He returns Percy's shy smile with one of his own.
He doesn't mind the quiet that follows in the next few moments, giving them both a little space to think. It's one of the things he appreciates most about Percy, actually. There's no inane chatter just for the sake of filling the air. When they're together, even when they're conversing, silence isn't strained. It's just part of existing in the same space.
"There are a few more pieces," Essek murmurs when Percy asks. His steepled fingers rise to press against his chin as he talks, looking up at the towering book cases rather than at Percival. He isn't avoiding his gaze, but just trying to keep his thoughts in order. "Our public presentation is one of them. Not only what we will wear and how that will coordinate, but how we intend to...exhibit ourselves, and our marriage, to others. How we talk about one another, talk to one another, body language, and so forth. We'll need to show solidarity. A united front."
He does look at his husband then, a spark of curiosity mixed with a cool shrewdness in the bright violet of his eyes, as though he's trying to pick the pieces of him apart the way he knows others will in less than a week's time.
"Personally, I believe an effort toward at least the appearance of newlywedded bliss would not go amiss. If we seem invested in one another, it will inspire confidence in our union, and therefore in this alliance. I also believe it will solidify my presence here much more quickly if my husband is known to genuinely enjoy my company."
Percy is grateful for the comfortable silences. He'd been a quiet child and that had carried into adulthood, prone to observation. And he appreciates the Essek is not afraid of the quiet. His gaze flicks up and Percy watches the wizard, a small smile appearing as Essek steeples his fingers. It's a gesture he's seen before, and he finds it rather charming.
The considerations he brings up are things that have crossed Percival's mind in passing, but there has not been a moment that would truly test them until now. Their public appearances had been few, though he thinks Essek's first one in Dawnfather's square was quite a success. This trip to Emon is building on that. He's quite aware of the power of appearance.
He's calm and still under Essek's scrutiny, and his suggestion brings another smile to Percival's face. It's actually a relief that his husband is politically savvy. This is not a position Percy ever thought he'd be in given that he'd been third in line for the title.
"I agree, but I think..." He trails off, considering what exactly he wants to say. "I think it's best if we do it our way."
Newlywedded bliss was all well and good, but Percy doesn't want it to seem like a performance. They are fond of each other, aren't they? And he is happy to build on that to set a more convincing scene. But he doesn't want to wander too far out of character for either of them.
"I don't want it to seem forced. I do enjoy your company, Essek Thelyss," he says. Percival steps closer and gently catches one of Essek's hands. He holds the other man's gaze as he brushes the barest kiss to Essek's knuckles, the picture of grace and civility. He stands straight again, holding the wizard's hand a bit longer than he needs to before finally letting go and giving his husband some space.
"But we are of the same mind on this, I think. I'll follow your lead as far as you want to take it."
He thinks it's important that a level of control remain with Essek. He was the one forced into an entirely new life. Percy doesn't want to sweep past any boundaries that Essek would rather keep.
Essek is grateful for the darkness of his laboratory for many reasons. One is that it helps to hide the way his cheeks have turned the color of a well shined plum as heat rises to his face. His husband only has a human's eyes, which means limited vision even with Essek's magelights illuminating the room. He draws the hand Percival had so gallantly kissed back to himself, and hardly realizes that he's cradling it to his chest.
"Yes, we are in agreement once again." Thankfully his voice remains steady, at least. "It is not my intent to do anything out of character. I...do not think it will be difficult to act convincingly fond of you, Percival."
That is certainly the clearest statement he's made about his personal feelings regarding their relationship, and instantly he feels nervous about it, even though Percy has just expressed a similar sentiment. But he has so little experience in being close to other people, and though he can look at their relationship objectively through a political lens and see it clearly, navigating the bond itself is so much more fraught. This matters to him, and not just because it concerns his future livelihood. Percival matters to him in a much more intimate way, similar to his friends. It's wonderful, but also confusing and nerve-wracking. He doesn't want to fuck this up the way he had with the Mighty Nein--with Caleb, particularly. He can't afford to.
The resolve he feels is powerful. He hopes it will be enough.
"Do you have any questions for me?" he wonders, at least partially to change the subject. "I may be new to this continent, but I am experienced in politics, which tends to be a somewhat universal language."
"We all received some education in political maneuvering. This title wasn't exactly my birthright, but it's mine now and I have endeavored to ensure that Whitestone will never be so isolated again."
Percy looks down for a moment, brows drawn together. He wonders--no. There is no point in looking backwards.
"It has been my continuing goal to ensure solid ties with the Republic. Things are good and I should like to keep them that way. But I also will not have anyone trying to take advantage of our resources. You know what we mine here, and you of all people know its worth."
Whitestone is isolated in terms of geography, though no longer so isolated politically. But it is known for its major export, the stone for which the city is named. Magic users from Xhorhas to Marquet seek it out, never mind the uses for the less magically inclined.
"That is part of our mission. To strengthen the ties we have, both economically and politically. I am not sure that I have any questions to pose, only... a hope that you will lend your expertise in this matter wherever you feel it relevant."
Essek's experience is a boon that Percival could not have anticipated, and he wants to believe that his new spouse is truly as dedicated to his new position as he seems to be. He is aware that the trust he is showing Essek could put him in a precarious position. But the only way to test it is to give it, and... Essek hasn't let the side down yet. Percival doesn't believe that he will, regardless of the concerns of others.
Essek understands, deeply, the trust that Percy is placing in him. He has every intention of proving worthy of it, and not only for his own sake.
It is still strange to think about the way the Mighty Nein altered him inexorably in less than a year when he had lived more than a century of his life as a stagnant, selfish being. Now that his heart has been opened, he finds it impossible to close again. That, he reasons, must be how Percival has gotten in. How all of Whitestone has, really. Essek feels a sense of duty to these people in a way that he rarely ever had to his own. It's a responsibility that derives not from the promise of self-advancement, but the simple desire to help, to improve the world around him after he spent so long disregarding the catastrophic consequences of his own actions.
He's glad for it. He doesn't think Percival would have liked the man he was before. Even aside from his treason and its effects, the Shadowhand was not a good person. But Essek, Essek as he is now, has the potential to be, or at least to do good with the time he has. And in life as in dunamancy, time and potential are the cornerstones from which everything is built.
"You can be assured that I will do just that," he says, and the way his smile reaches his eyes is almost soft. "Not only do I have a vested interest in our success, but I intend to make the value of my knowledge and experience very clear."
Essek reaches between them for Percival's nearest hand to clasp it with his, squeezing gently. A united front. "I am confident that together, we will have little to worry about. Truly, a smarter match could not have been arranged."
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They've gotten on very well these last couple months. It's impossible not to notice. Essek is introduced formally, and they spend a lot of time together between Essek's newly minted position on the council and beginning to share duties in the management of the castle itself.
But even outside of duty, the leisure time they spend in each other's company has increased exponentially from their previous nightly dinner meetings. They share space in the library often, both companionably quiet and reading or occasionally chatting about whatever topic strikes their fancy. Essek visits Percival's workshop for the first time, and then several times after, intrigued and impressed by his inventions. He even begins, entirely for his husband's benefit, to take riding lessons. He's hilariously bad at it, but at least it's amusing for Percy. They share interests and stories and bits of culture back and forth. Essek learns more about Whitestone and the de Rolo lineage, and Percy becomes privy to more information about the intricacies of the Kryn Dynasty and Xhorhas in general than any other human who hasn't seen it first-hand. Sometimes, after they've passed the morning or afternoon doing one or more of these things, Percival will walk Essek to his chambers in the afternoon just to tell him good night before he trances through the brightest hours of the day. Essek finds it very sweet, and has lately begun to do the same in reverse.
It's strange, but Essek could swear that Percival grows more handsome by the day.
Essek is arranging his personal library in his tower today, perched on the tallest rung of a ladder twenty feet tall and lifting each book individually from a trunk on the floor with magic, floating them up into his waiting hands to be placed where they belong on this topmost shelf. His cloak is tossed over the chair at his desk below, leaving him in the dark, well-tailored Xhorhassian-style clothes he typically wears beneath, fitted breeches and a tunic with a high collar and subtle geometric print.
The knock on the door comes as he's suspending a book midair. It doesn't so much as waver on its way up to his open palm. He and gravity have been good friends for a long time now.
"Enter!" He calls, pitching his voice to carry down the distance to the door. He knows already that was not a servant's knock, and he feels himself smile already in anticipation. It's certainly a little silly, getting excited to see someone he sees every day--the man he is already married to, no less. But he allows himself that slight giddiness with the excuse that it is better to be happy to see one's spouse than not.
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And he finds himself genuinely interested - and enthused - as Essek builds his workshop to his liking. Percy is fascinated by the tools of his trade, by what Essek can potentially do with them. It gives him a quiet thrill that his husband has taken to his position on the council with such interest. The others have been somewhat slow to come around, uncertain given how foreign the drow man is, but they have come around, one by one. As Essek proves himself serious in his role, the others have given him more leeway.
He finds himself in Essek's tower again. And Percy realizes, as he steps through the door, that he's here for no particular reason. He'd been walking, wondering, and his feet carried him here. He closes the door after himself and he smiles when he sees Essek on the ladder, a book floating to him. And, perhaps for a moment, Percival allows himself to admire this man he's married. The cut and style of the clothes Essek wears are flattering, and it always feels like something of a treat to catch his husband without his cloak obscuring him.
"How goes it?" he asks, absently taking a book from the trunk, curious about the volumes Essek has been bringing in. He gets reports about the money spent, but he has no reason to curtail the wizard's project. Nor does he feel the need to oversee it too closely.
He looks up at Essek again with a rather fond look.
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Rather than climbing down, Essek simply steps off the top of the ladder and drifts in a slow, leisurely drop. It brings him within a pace of Percival, the tips of his toes just barely brushing the floor.
"And as you can see, I have made a great deal of progress."
A sweeping gesture around them indicates a functional wizard's workroom. Mid-morning sunlight would normally be streaming in through the tall windows, but Essek's enchantment has cast them in perpetual night, much like the skies above Rosohna. Stars twinkle there in accurate alignment with the constellations above Whitestone at this time of year. Cool-toned mage lights drift in place of torch sconces around the room, and Essek's desk, a sturdy thing of striking red Vermaloc wood--quite literally a piece of home--is already covered in the work he has begun over the last month. The shelves are lined with books and arranged with strange and beautiful arcane objects, a cabinet on one wall holds a plethora of components, and a basic magic circle, a starting point for most spells, has been carved into the very stone of the floor. Essek has made the space his own both functionally and aesthetically.
"What do you think?" he asks. "A suitable use for a spare tower?"
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"I think it suits you," he says with a soft look. He looks up toward the windows, a bit thrown by the perfect rendition of Whitestone's night sky when he knows there is daylight. Still, the stars are familiar and he cannot help but smile. Everything about this tower is so different than his own workspace, and yet... it isn't. Percy has components and tools and all manner of things that he needs there. They just look different.
His gaze drifts to the desk, the rich wood that is almost foreign to him. He's never seen a whole piece of furniture made with it.
"And I am glad to see the tower getting use. It would be a shame to leave the space empty when it can serve a purpose." Percy wanders closer to the magic circle carved into the floor, mostly curious. He's seen things like it before, though he rarely took the time to actually look at them. Then he looks at Essek again.
"Have you been able to get what you need?"
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He drifts to the desk, where he settles himself in a perch on the edge of it, one leg folding elegantly over the other.
"Honestly, this was the most difficult acquisition. But I had to have it. The Vermaloc borders Rosohna, so homes and furniture are traditionally made with this wood. For my own space, it was...important."
Observing his husband's curiosity about the circle, Essek offers, "I will demonstrate that for you when I next have use for it, if you like. It is useful for casting and crafting spells that require a physical representation of the arcane diagram."
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He clears his throat.
"Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you." Clearly he needs to start learning Undercommon sooner than later if this is something he's going to run into often. And, before he can think to stop himself, he says: "Though, casting would deny me the pleasure of listening to you translate."
It's a smooth, casual flirtation that he makes just before looking up from the book to meet Essek's gaze. There is a part of him that cannot believe he's just said that, but he also can't bring himself to try to take it back or apologize. It's true, after all. And... is it very wrong to flirt, just a bit, with his husband?
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"You have interesting priorities, Percival," he says, a bit smug and not hiding it. His chin tilts up a little, and he smiles enough to show a hint of fang. "This is a subject I could expand upon at length, if you wish." The words themselves may not be directly flirtatious, but the way Essek speaks them, gently amused, has certain implications. "Perhaps you have the right of it. Surely a translation from a native speaker would prove more accurate than a spell, and I do not mind taking this time with you."
Whether Percy is honestly interested in him is very much a matter for further deliberation and observation, and an intriguing thought worth some serious consideration all on its own. But even if this is just for fun, Essek is enjoying it.
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"A native speaker and expert in the field," he adds, eyes bright at the possibility. He quite likes the idea of learning that way, in part because it's an excuse to spend more time with Essek. And he's really come to look forward to every opportunity.
Percival closes the book and steps closer to offer it back to Essek, holding eye contact with his spouse as he does.
"I'll warn you, I'm a very dedicated student once I take an interest. Even if it's only in theory rather than practice."
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He accepts the book back with a slow blink and a carefully calculated brush of fingers. It's all in fun, and as Percy had started it, Essek can't see a reason why he shouldn't give him a little taste of how he behaves when he's flirting deliberately.
"Good. I would not consider teaching you if you were anything less."
That's entirely true, but also playful.
"I have ideas," he taps the cover of the book now sitting beside him on the desk, "for things the two of us might do together."
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Percy keeps his gaze on Essek's face as he offers a polite bow. It's one thing to flirt; it's quite another to have the wizard flirting back, and he can't say he minds it. It seems to him that both he and Essek might have a propensity for brooding, and a bit of playful back-and-forth offers something far lighter. Percival's expectations of this relationship have been carefully managed since the outset, and this is a pleasant surprise, even if, in the end, it leads nowhere further.
"In detail, of course," he adds, daring a wink before he finally turns his attention back to the intriguing circle on the floor. He can't help it: he was curious about it before, and he still is, and he has questions--
"Is this used like a foundation? Simple enough that it can be built upon to support other spells? Or do you need to make changes to the circle itself ever?"
He imagines with chalk or something, adding to the lines and glyphs etched into the stone.
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Essek slips off the table, and this time his feet actually touch the floor with a soft tap of the heel of his boots as he walks a few paces forward. He joins Percy by the circle, though not to aid his inspection. His expression is the sort of neutrality that passes as friendliness for him, and he stands by Percy's elbow.
"It is good that you have sought me out this morning, Percival," he says, clearly segueing to a topic that's been on his mind. "We are to appear together in Emon next week, and though our dancing lessons have been helpful, I thought it best that we iron out a few more significant details before we step out of our corner of the world and into Tal'Dorei's political scene at large."
While nothing about this topic embarrasses Essek--it's simply par for the course--it is understandably a little awkward to bring up out of the blue, and so he sounds slightly stilted in parts as he explains.
"Firstly, it has not escaped my attention, nor that of our peers, that while this marriage represents an incredibly beneficial alliance, it will not yield any heirs for Whitestone. I bring this up now only because I understand that humans tend to move rather quickly in these matters, and we are to appear publicly very soon. The position of your mistress will be a coveted and sought after one, as her children will become legitimized members of your family."
Essek says this casually and matter-of-factly, as though the idea of Percy having a mistress is a foregone conclusion, and he's never considered anything else.
"I know that most in my position would advise you to make an advantageous choice, or even demand to have a say in it. But I wanted to make it clear that I have no preference, and would be happy for you to choose a partner based on whatever traits you may consider most important to you personally. Whether that is a love match or something else, I have no wish to curtail you in any way. We are married, but I understand the nature of our arrangement."
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"There is no mistress to undermine you," he says first, as he thinks clearing that up is necessary. "And Cassandra is well-equipped to produce heirs to Whitestone, who would not need to be legitimized at all beyond recognition as my heirs as well as hers."
This is something he's made peace with. Percival never really thought he would marry after... everything. That Cassandra feels able to carry on the family name is a miracle as it is, and Percival sees no reason not to name a nephew or niece as an heir to the title.
"I've... honestly given no thought to children. Ever."
Not in a serious way. Once upon a time he'd assumed he would follow the same sort of path his parents did: marriage, children, a life in service to Whitestone in some way or another. But it was in the abstract, a thing far in the future. And he's quite aware that he is in that future now, but it still isn't something he has pursued with any intent.
"But I appreciate your candor on the matter." Percy stands straighter. "Was there another political matter you wanted to cover?"
Essek had started with firstly, which puts Percival in mind of having a list of subjects to go over.
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He cuts himself off. What he had assumed clearly doesn't matter. If Percival hasn't thought about children, that is entirely his choice. "I apologize. If your sister is willing, the matter of an heir is resolved."
The room is quiet for a long moment, and it is all Essek can do to keep his feet anchored to the floor. He's spoken thoughtlessly, foolishly, and floating makes him feel less vulnerable. "I will add that should you ever wish to have someone in your life purely for companionship, I am not opposed. Perhaps that was implied, but for the sake of clarity: I do not consider you beholden to me in that way. I ask only to remain informed of close relationships."
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"There is no reason why you shouldn't have presumed," he says, gentler this time. Really, Essek had the right of it. Were Percy a more typical noble, producing an heir would be a lingering preoccupation. A faint smile appears, not quite sad but... nearly there. "You had no reason to think otherwise."
As to the subject of companionship, Percival doesn't quite know how to say that he feels like he has found someone. Essek is intelligent, passionate, dedicated. His curiosity is charming and, even when he's smug, Percy finds himself quite drawn to his husband's company. An unexpected development, certainly, and perhaps one that Essek has either not noticed or not considered relevant.
He looks down at the etching in the floor. He rather wishes he hadn't given the book back, if only for something to do with his hands. Out of habit, Percy folds them behind his back.
"Of course," he says after a moment. Perhaps Essek is bringing it up because he is hoping for the freedom to pursue another? "And I should hope that you understand I would give you the same courtesy. If there is anyone you'd like to--if you should find yourself desiring or needing... someone."
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"That is unlikely," he demures with a tight grimace, an attempt at humor. "I have always been a solitary creature. Still, it is reassuring to know that we are of the same mind."
Despite his words, part of him wants to touch Percy and seek a momentary connection, just something light and fleeting, a brush against his arm. He's done it before. But he doesn't have the resolve for it in the moment, so he remains still, hands pressed together in front of him.
"The time we have spent together has led me to believe that we likely share many of the same ideas. I have enjoyed it a great deal, and I would hate for any lack of communication to lead to resentment in the future. Of all the men I could have been sentenced to marry and shipped off to for the sake of an alliance, I am grateful that it was you. I feel...hopeful for a future here."
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He offers a smile then, something almost shy as he considers the drow wizard. It's likely good for him to be reminded that Essek is here as part of a sentence, basically, and not just a treaty. Percy still isn't wholly certain what he's done, but clearly it was serious enough for exile to be the most kind solution.
But it's good to hear that he has some sense of a future rather than a drawn-out decline.
"I know the circumstances around this aren't ideal, but we've both set out to make the best of it, I think, and I don't intend to give up on that."
Putting Essek up for a seat on the council had been both an exercise in his ultimate dominion and also democracy. It is his right to create new council seats, but the rest of the council has a say in who might fill them. If there were any intense objections, or if Essek had been unable to make a good case for his nomination, it might have fallen apart. But it didn't. And the fact that Essek is invested in his position gives Percy hope, too. Perhaps this isn't a love match, but they can at least build something good together.
Percy realizes he's gotten rather introspective and he offers Essek an apologetic look.
"Was there anything else you wished to iron out before we travel to Emon? I'm all ears, if there's anything I can do to put you at ease."
There will be no way to lessen the impact of Essek's presence - there simply aren't a lot of drow living openly anywhere in Tal'Dorei, never mind in the capital. There is a lot of mystery and dark rumors surrounding their civilization in the Underdark, some of which are entirely true.
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He doesn't mind the quiet that follows in the next few moments, giving them both a little space to think. It's one of the things he appreciates most about Percy, actually. There's no inane chatter just for the sake of filling the air. When they're together, even when they're conversing, silence isn't strained. It's just part of existing in the same space.
"There are a few more pieces," Essek murmurs when Percy asks. His steepled fingers rise to press against his chin as he talks, looking up at the towering book cases rather than at Percival. He isn't avoiding his gaze, but just trying to keep his thoughts in order. "Our public presentation is one of them. Not only what we will wear and how that will coordinate, but how we intend to...exhibit ourselves, and our marriage, to others. How we talk about one another, talk to one another, body language, and so forth. We'll need to show solidarity. A united front."
He does look at his husband then, a spark of curiosity mixed with a cool shrewdness in the bright violet of his eyes, as though he's trying to pick the pieces of him apart the way he knows others will in less than a week's time.
"Personally, I believe an effort toward at least the appearance of newlywedded bliss would not go amiss. If we seem invested in one another, it will inspire confidence in our union, and therefore in this alliance. I also believe it will solidify my presence here much more quickly if my husband is known to genuinely enjoy my company."
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The considerations he brings up are things that have crossed Percival's mind in passing, but there has not been a moment that would truly test them until now. Their public appearances had been few, though he thinks Essek's first one in Dawnfather's square was quite a success. This trip to Emon is building on that. He's quite aware of the power of appearance.
He's calm and still under Essek's scrutiny, and his suggestion brings another smile to Percival's face. It's actually a relief that his husband is politically savvy. This is not a position Percy ever thought he'd be in given that he'd been third in line for the title.
"I agree, but I think..." He trails off, considering what exactly he wants to say. "I think it's best if we do it our way."
Newlywedded bliss was all well and good, but Percy doesn't want it to seem like a performance. They are fond of each other, aren't they? And he is happy to build on that to set a more convincing scene. But he doesn't want to wander too far out of character for either of them.
"I don't want it to seem forced. I do enjoy your company, Essek Thelyss," he says. Percival steps closer and gently catches one of Essek's hands. He holds the other man's gaze as he brushes the barest kiss to Essek's knuckles, the picture of grace and civility. He stands straight again, holding the wizard's hand a bit longer than he needs to before finally letting go and giving his husband some space.
"But we are of the same mind on this, I think. I'll follow your lead as far as you want to take it."
He thinks it's important that a level of control remain with Essek. He was the one forced into an entirely new life. Percy doesn't want to sweep past any boundaries that Essek would rather keep.
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"Yes, we are in agreement once again." Thankfully his voice remains steady, at least. "It is not my intent to do anything out of character. I...do not think it will be difficult to act convincingly fond of you, Percival."
That is certainly the clearest statement he's made about his personal feelings regarding their relationship, and instantly he feels nervous about it, even though Percy has just expressed a similar sentiment. But he has so little experience in being close to other people, and though he can look at their relationship objectively through a political lens and see it clearly, navigating the bond itself is so much more fraught. This matters to him, and not just because it concerns his future livelihood. Percival matters to him in a much more intimate way, similar to his friends. It's wonderful, but also confusing and nerve-wracking. He doesn't want to fuck this up the way he had with the Mighty Nein--with Caleb, particularly. He can't afford to.
The resolve he feels is powerful. He hopes it will be enough.
"Do you have any questions for me?" he wonders, at least partially to change the subject. "I may be new to this continent, but I am experienced in politics, which tends to be a somewhat universal language."
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Percy looks down for a moment, brows drawn together. He wonders--no. There is no point in looking backwards.
"It has been my continuing goal to ensure solid ties with the Republic. Things are good and I should like to keep them that way. But I also will not have anyone trying to take advantage of our resources. You know what we mine here, and you of all people know its worth."
Whitestone is isolated in terms of geography, though no longer so isolated politically. But it is known for its major export, the stone for which the city is named. Magic users from Xhorhas to Marquet seek it out, never mind the uses for the less magically inclined.
"That is part of our mission. To strengthen the ties we have, both economically and politically. I am not sure that I have any questions to pose, only... a hope that you will lend your expertise in this matter wherever you feel it relevant."
Essek's experience is a boon that Percival could not have anticipated, and he wants to believe that his new spouse is truly as dedicated to his new position as he seems to be. He is aware that the trust he is showing Essek could put him in a precarious position. But the only way to test it is to give it, and... Essek hasn't let the side down yet. Percival doesn't believe that he will, regardless of the concerns of others.
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It is still strange to think about the way the Mighty Nein altered him inexorably in less than a year when he had lived more than a century of his life as a stagnant, selfish being. Now that his heart has been opened, he finds it impossible to close again. That, he reasons, must be how Percival has gotten in. How all of Whitestone has, really. Essek feels a sense of duty to these people in a way that he rarely ever had to his own. It's a responsibility that derives not from the promise of self-advancement, but the simple desire to help, to improve the world around him after he spent so long disregarding the catastrophic consequences of his own actions.
He's glad for it. He doesn't think Percival would have liked the man he was before. Even aside from his treason and its effects, the Shadowhand was not a good person. But Essek, Essek as he is now, has the potential to be, or at least to do good with the time he has. And in life as in dunamancy, time and potential are the cornerstones from which everything is built.
"You can be assured that I will do just that," he says, and the way his smile reaches his eyes is almost soft. "Not only do I have a vested interest in our success, but I intend to make the value of my knowledge and experience very clear."
Essek reaches between them for Percival's nearest hand to clasp it with his, squeezing gently. A united front. "I am confident that together, we will have little to worry about. Truly, a smarter match could not have been arranged."