From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
As Sam leaned into Amun, he leaned into the bookmaker as well, though they were still only touching a little bit. Still, the potter's smile deepened. It stayed on his lips as the other man read. When the redhead paused and pointed out the illustration, the guild master lifted his free hand. It hovered over the art, tracing over the lines and curves of it.
With that same hand, he pointed his index finger at Sam. Then Amun pinched his fingers together, as if they were holding a quill or brush, and mimed drawing. He ended with a shrug, eyes fixed on the bookmaker's.
Sam felt himself growing comfortable, even without the warmth or exact feel of the cushions or Amun behind him. It was peaceful, to be able to sit and relax with someone and read; so different from doing it himself: occasionally he would glance back to see Amun's reaction to a certain part, or to explain a word or phrase that was now out of use.
He was pleased to see Amun touch the picture too, thinking that feeling the crust of the old ink next to the smooth paper was as much a part of the experience as hearing the words. "Oh, do I draw? Not really...I can copy things well, but I've never been too gifted with creating my own images." When it came to illuminations in manuscripts he usually only needed to restore damaged art or copy over ideas between scripts, so he had not had much practice in crafted his own images.
"Can you draw? After all, you make such beautiful pottery..." He asked, turning to face Amun, a little surprised by how close they were once he did but not moving away.
Amun was definitely reacting: oooing and aahing where appropraite (sounds like that thankfully weren't affected by the curse), smiling, gasping, everything that the story called for. After he noticed Sam glancing at the potter every now and then he made sure to do it even more. It helped that the story was so engrossing.
Cocking his head to one side at the bookmaker's words, the guild master made the drawing motion with his hand again. Then he did a broader movement, more like a paintbrush going up and down a canvas. Finally, he put his two hands close together, palms less than an inch apart. Grinning at the compliment, he dropped his hands and nodded.
Sam watched Amun's motions carefully, hoping that over time he'd be getting better at interpreting them. "You draw...and paint." He spoke over the charades, raising an eyebrow to see if he got it right. "The two are closely related?" Less sure about this last bit, he frowned, hoping he wasn't frustrating Amun with his incorrect guesses. While it was definitely making the date harder, Sam had actually been surprised by how easy it had been so far, how comfortable, even with Amun unable to speak.
Going back to the book, he continued to read the tale of love, deception and hardship, finding that the longer he went, the more confident he was in adding inflections like more emotionally toned narrative, or putting on a slight voice for certain characters. More than anything else, Sam was having fun.
There was one thing he was a little embarrassed about, know what was to come in the story soon. Turning the page slowly Sam tried to continue to read flatly and solidly, but it was likely obvious in the slight pauses and quiet laughs that he was struggling to keep his composure while reading such steamy words as:
Now the knight possesses all he wants, when the Queen voluntarily seeks his company and love, and when he holds her in his arms, and she holds him in hers. Their sport is so agreeable and sweet, as they kiss and fondle each other, that in truth such a marvellous joy comes over them as was never heard or known. But their joy will not be revealed by me, for in a story, it has no place. Yet, the most choice and delightful satisfaction was precisely that of which our story must not speak. That night his joy and pleasure were very great. *
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* This is an edited paragraph from Lancelot, or Knight of the Cart by Chretien De Troyes
Grinning as Sam got the gist of the meaning of Amun's gesticulations, he nodded. Gesturing between the two of them, pointing between himself and the bookmaker, the potter made the painting motion again. Then he raised an eyebrow and held up his hands in a question.
Settling down as the other man returned to reading, the guild master's fingers crept towards Sam's knee again. Amun squeezed it, though he kept his gaze trained on the book. Smiling at the section where the book faded to black, he chuckled and shook his head. Glancing up, the potter cocked his head to one side as he gauged the redhead's reaction.
"...You'd...like to paint..with me? Or...a picture of me?" Sam responded, tilting his head with an amused smile. "I think the former would be horribly embarrassing for me...actually, they both would be. I'm not a good artist and I'm certainly no model." Breathing out a quietly laugh, he self consciously tucked some hair behind his ear, unable to quite imagine it.
When Amun squeezed his knee Sam shuffled a little closer until their thighs touched, trying his best not to make too much of it, just casually readjusting as if he were anywhere else. It was not until recently he'd considered Amun as much more than an acquaintance, but as they inched closer he found his heart swelling in his chest, not helped by the embarrassment on his cheeks from the most recent section of the book.
Yet, rather than doing the smart thing and just dropping it, he felt the need to share some knowledge. "You know...the author was so embarrassed after writing that he had to give up the book to someone else."
Amun held up one finger at Sam's question. Then the potter cocked his head to one side, brow furrowing. Grinning, he held up his other hand at the same time with two fingers. As he did, his gaze swept over the bookmaker's body. The guild master licked his lips, before his gaze flicked back up to meet the other man's.
Pressing their thighs together as well, Amun's hand slid upwards a few inches to curl around Sam's thigh. Snorting at the information about the change in authors, the potter shook his head. He held up his free hand in a questioning gesture, though his eyes were already trained on the book again.
Sam stared at Amun for a moment after he'd finished his charade, both unsure of his interpretation and rather embarrassed by it, if he was correct. "You...you want to...paint me...without...clothes." The words came slowly and quietly, Sam knowing he'd be mortified if he'd made the wrong assumption; there was another cause for concern there too, instant worry in his chest; he sighed. "Before we do anything like that, there's something I'd have to tell you."
With the hand going towards his thigh, it was ever more a pressing matter. Still, reading would help to calm his nerves, and Amun wanted him to continue; Sam cleared his throat and started anew at the next paragraph, which thankfully left the heroes bedroom and once again resumed the adventure at hand, much easier material to read aloud.
Laughing at Sam's question, Amun shrugged. Lifting one hand, he made it wobble back and forth. Nodding, he paused before repeating the gesture he'd started with: hand pointing back and forth between them, following by the painting motion. Hesitating, he reached out and grabbed the bookmaker's hand. Holding it, the potter would make them both do the painting movement before releasing the other man.
The guild master's fingers didn't creep further up. Instead, they stayed where they were, stroking at Sam's thigh. Neither of them got physical pleasure from it, but Amun didn't stop. After a bit, he found that his strokes were in time with the cadence of the bookmaker's words. The potter smiled and glanced over at the other man to see if he'd noticed.
"You want to paint together. But naked. But...?" Clearly confused by now, Sam laughed and shook his head. "Maybe it's time for you write something on the notepad...um, but I do think I should tell you..." Taking a breath his lungs didn't need to prepare himself, Sam shifted his eyes away from Amun and looked out into the Atheneum; it had been in the back of his mind the entire time, and it was best to be disappointed early, if he was to be. "I'm not...entirely the same as other men. Um...The Voice helps me look and sound like I do, but I don't have...I mean I'm not entirely the same, in my body. As you. I'm missing...a certain part." Hopefully that was enough to get the point across.
He'd stopped reading, looking up from the page nervously to gauge Amun's reaction, his mind for the moment distracted from the hand on his thigh (though he feared it would soon be snatched back). "If that bothers you, we can just...forget this."
Whining a bit, Amun nodded at Sam's suggestion. The potter took out his journal and began sketching. Although he tried to work as quickly as possible, it still took an embarrassingly long time. Eventually, though, he flipped the notebook around for the bookmaker to see. On one page, there were two men standing side by side with easels in front of them. Both of them held paintbrushes and both of them were fully clothed.
On the other page, there was only one man with an easel and paintbrush. The other man lounged on a couch, draped over it. There was only a sheet on this man: other than that, he was naked. Hesitating, the guild master waited for the other man to look before closing the book.
Frowning, Amun pointed at his crotch. Then he shrugged. Opening his mouth, he flicked one of his fangs with his fingers. The other hand slid down Sam's leg to squeeze the redhead's knee.
Sam laughed at the whine and shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry! I've been doing well so far, but this one has confused me." He watched closely as Amun drew his pictures, at first embarrassed as it seemed that nothing about being naked had been suggested...then the second image came into play. "Oh. Paint together....and you paint me. I see." It would certainly be a new experience for the bookmaker, just like this had been, and he found he didn't mind the idea of trying it with Amun.
He followed the charades that came after his admission closely. "It doesn't matter, because we have fangs." Sam nodded, a relieved smile spreading over his face. "I'm glad you think so; I was scared you'd not want to see me again." With that hurdle passed and the scandalous part of the book through, he was happy to continue reading now, gently leaning into Amun as he spoke softly and evenly through the rest of the story, finding he enjoyed it this time more than he had before.
