Private Tales Fresh Prince of Vel Anir

[Isla]

Her face softened when Lynus finally began to talk- talk to her like a person. It had been a long time since someone had. Isla would cherish the rare moment of humanity. She listened, quietly taking in the details of him for the first time as he spoke of his childhood.

He slouched slightly, as if his shoulders were being held down by some invisible burden. He didn't look old, but appeared troubled beyond his years. Faint lines etched on his face told her of his weariness and despair. A darkness beneath his eyes spoke of restless nights and, for a moment, Isla wondered what haunted him. Though his lips twitched into a smile, his gaze seemed so distant, so sad. So detached, lost in a spiritless world of his own making.

His laughter startled her as she stared a little too deep into his distant gaze.

She refused to answer his question aloud, but accepted the half-hearted offer as well as the drink as she sat beside him.

"Were you a knight?" She broke an extended silence, one he'd probably looked forward to after their tense meeting.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus let out another quiet laugh at her guess, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. "No... I wish I was," he replied, his voice tinged with a distant longing. Things would have been much simpler..

He shifted the conversation, diverting it back to her, intrigued by her story and the mysteries she held. "How'd you end up here?" he asked, the question coming out a little more bluntly than he'd intended, causing him to wince slightly at his own lack of tact.

"I mean... You may not be wealthy now, but your family weren't poor... Not with a piano and sheet music." he pointed out, raising a curious eyebrow in her direction as he swirled his drink and took another long draw from his glass.

 

[Isla]

Isla had wanted to probe for more information, wanted to ask just was he if not a knight? A mercenary perhaps? An assassin? No, he did not appear to be very light on his feet when he came trudging in the establishment. Not everyone was gifted in the element of stealth. Unfortunately before she was given an opening to ask, he had moved on. And boy had he decided to pick a sore subject.

And with such little tact and so much judgment in his tone.

"You are correct. I was not born into...this..." She gestured around her, some of the amber liquid splashing from her glass onto the couch and Lynus' cheek. "But I have been here for a long while. Ten years, if I remember correctly." The hint of bitterness in her tone matched the way her lips twitched downward. "My father was a merchant here in the city, actually. When I was a child at least. We had a manor, servants, and the most beautiful ebony piano imported from Elbion. Ohh..." The bitterness faded and was replaced by something akin to awe as she spoke of the instrument. "It was huge and so glossy you could use it as a mirror. I doubt they have anything close to its beauty anywhere else in the city- even in the palace.

"You asked about my past, though. Not my mother's pride and joy." She took a sip and shuddered at the burning in her throat. "Yes, my father, he was a merchant. And a colossal idiot who let whatever polluted his mind to be spoken far too loudly. People had no interest associating with a lunatic and without business..." She shrugged. "He died. Drank himself to death. And my mother never quite recovered from any of it. Sent me here the day I turned eighteen so that I might provide an income to take care of her and my two younger brothers."

Of course, she omitted, they had never spoken to her again after the day she left.

"Money was good at first. Though I'm not sure if it was because people wanted to sleep with a noble girl or a final 'fuck you' to my father." She tipped her head back, emptying the glass completely before going for a second.

"Your turn."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus listened in silence as Isla recounted her past, her words painting a vivid picture of a life torn apart by unfortunate circumstance.As she spoke of her father's downfall and the subsequent hardships her family faced, Lynus couldn't shake the feeling of remorse gnawing at him. It was as if he had opened a wound that he had no business touching and her bitterness was palpable. The splashing of the drink onto his cheek went unnoticed as he remained lost in thought, grappling with his own discomfort at the situation.

As she turned the conversation back to him, he felt a familiar reluctance settling in his chest. The alcohol had loosened his inhibitions enough to ask probing questions, but it had not yet granted him the courage to share his own struggles. He had no desire to burden her further with his own troubles, especially after what she had just shared. But he also couldn't bring himself to lie or deflect the question entirely.

"Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he met her gaze. "I didn't mean to pry. I..." He trailed off, his words faltering. His gaze dropped to the glass in his hand, the swirling amber liquid a silent reminder of the numbing effect of alcohol. Taking a slow sip, he gathered his thoughts.

"My past would bore you.." He offered her a small, apologetic smile. "My parents are.. overbearing. Controlling. They don't agree with my current choice of lifestyle.. I can't seem to fucking escape." he snorted quietly. Until now.. If they'd known where he was right now, he could only imagine their.. upset.

"Woe is me, right?" he glanced at her and took another drink, his eyes growing drowsier as the room started to shift. He laughed under his breath. "I sound like an entitled prick.."

 

[Isla]

"It is fine." Isla's smile was pained and her words laced with bitterness that proved anything but. "I suppose it was almost cathartic to recall my old life." Almost. Or maybe not at all, for only a moment after spilling bits and pieces of her life to the stranger, she wanted to vomit. Vomit at the pain of old wounds torn open once again to reveal all the horrid, disgusting things she to herself in order to provide for the people she loved. The people who abandoned her.

She needed his voice to distract her from her own self-loathing, but would find it short lived and disappointing. She would not accept it. Not after he left her strip herself down to nothingness in front of him while he remained an armored, guarded fortress.

"I did not ask if your past was boring." She took a sip from the glass, a pale pink lipstick stain left at the rim as she set it back on the table. Having to reach over for it every time she yearned for a way out would slow her down. "If you think your parent's disappointment in you makes you an entitled prick, than that would make two of us. Do you think my mother is proud of me? My lifestyle?"

She did not answer, but she gave him a moment to stew on the question. "You've given enough gold to keep the room for the day and night if you so wish, but you will not be sleeping until you and I are even." She grabbed the glass again, moving closer to him in the process. So much for moderation. "So, if you were not a knight, then what were you? A mercenary?"

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Cathartic. He wished he could find it cathartic, but his pain was too recent, his wounds too raw, still bleeding out. All he could do was try to forget, addle his mind with whatever he could and lose himself in the blissful unreality of sleep until next he woke to start over again.

His head fell back as the relentless woman badgered him further, a huff thrown from his lungs and his resignation evident in the slump of his shoulders.. "Yes. Yes, I was a mercenary. Alright?" he turned to look at her, his eyes wandering lazily over her pretty face.

"Told you, boring. Nothing much to talk about so we might as well drink."

 

[Isla]

Ha! She had been correct!

She celebrated in her head, a smug grin on her face. As if she weren't just going through a mental list of occupations she knew involved the use of a sword. Occupations she'd learned the names of based on her own clientele.

"I knew it!" She moved to shove his shoulder, it was a clumsy movement that sent her hand just barely making contact with his arm and her entire body jerking forward and almost into his lap. She stopped herself just short of it. More of that amber drink spilled from the glass. The warm feeling in her stomach and the buzz in her head made the pinkness of her cheeks brighter, hotter. Staring up at him, her eyes seemed to glow from whatever morsel of happiness had remained after all the years.

"It isn't boring at all. You must tell me all about it!" Her stare didn't leave his own eyes. "But we will need more to drink. Care to try anything different? I will grab whatever you like."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus tensed slightly as Isla's clumsy shove sent her body lurching forward, though he couldn't help but chuckle at how happy it seemed to make her to be right, or at least, to think she was right. A faint smile played on his lips as he watched her cheeks flush with warmth.

"It seems you've got a talent for guessing," he remarked, his tone light as he held her gaze. Her smile lit up her face with a kind of infectious joy that was long forgotten and hard to resist. Her eyes, he realised, were a striking shade of blue - not of a morning sky, but a mid-summer's night. Such a beautiful thing to have been forced into such a life, he thought with a twinge of sadness, and suddenly the mere thought of lecherous men all over her caused his jaw to clench.

"I'll drink anything," he replied with a wry smile, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Surprise me."

 

[Isla]

"I knew it!" Isla repeated herself a few times, no sign of her excitement fading. The parts of her that hurt, mentally and physically had been pushed aside for such a small and insignificant moment of joy. Still, she practically glowed with her eagerness to hear about his life as a mercenary when she would return with another tray or two of drinks.

She had met plenty of mercenaries, many who'd paid for a moment or two of her time while passing through Vel Anir. But she had never been able to coax a story from any of them. She had truly never actually had a conversation with many of them. Things progressed quite quickly when time was money, and money was scarce. The most she'd got out of most clients was the talk of her pretty face before she tuned it all out.

"Anything is a dangerous choice, you know." The smugness had been mixed with a sly, feline sort of smile as she disappeared through the doors. She was gone for ten minutes this time and Lynus would have likely heard the Madam shouting at Isla to get back to work. A threat or two. Isla seemed remarkably unphased by it all as she returned with two trays. Drinks of varying colors on each. Some purple, some navy with a shimmering blue dust and some that same amber as before. Glasses of varying sizes also separated a few mixed drinks from straight alcohol.

She panted as she plopped back down beside Lynus, legs crossed, and picked up a purple one. "It is probably sweeter than you are used to, but it is a favorite of mine."

 

[Lynus Anireth]

As Isla commented on the potential dangers of drinking anything, Lynus chuckled softly, the sound tinged with a hint of self-deprecation. "I've been known to take my chances,"

As she left him alone, Lynus couldn't shake the twinge of guilt that gnawed at him. Isla's excitement over his supposed past as a mercenary had seemed genuine, and here he was, perpetuating a lie for the sake of preserving some semblance of anonymity. He hadn't expected her reaction, nor had he anticipated the guilt that would accompany it and the thought of disappointing her, even inadvertently, left a sour taste in his mouth.

He had never seen such colourful drinks before, and he gave the woman a dubious look as she handed him something purple. Well, he had said he'd drink anything, and he was surprised. It wasn't lost on him that she'd made an effort to do so, either.

"Surely, i'm sweet enough.." he answered with a dry smile and a look that said he knew well enough that he was anything but. He drank, and narrowed his eyes.

"It...tastes like purple."

 

[Isla]

"Yeah, sure." She rolled her eyes and clinked her glass to his before taking a large sip herself. It was a flavor so sweet, yet a hint of bitter and sourness lingered behind it. It was the first flavor of alcohol she tasted, the first drink she'd been offered when she began her work. An expensive drink at that. One that the Lady nearly threatened to take a finger for when she snuck a second and third glass of it a decade ago.

It tastes like purple.

She stared at him, blinking as she tried to process. Then she erupted into laughter. "It is Parma violet!" That and some dragonfruit, mango, and another fruit that gave it the characteristic purple hue. "The Lady nearly took my head off when she saw me leaving with it." She giggled, sniffing the sweet aroma. "It is reserved for wealthy clients only, but I think you have more than earned a glass of it."

Her face still glowed with her smug excitement and, perhaps against her better judgment, she leaned into him. This time, rather than a fist, her head pressed against his shoulder and she remained there. Sipping the drink quietly, she was sort of...happy. "So go on then, tell me a story of your mercenary adventures." Her head tilted, she looked up at him, waiting.

 

[Lynus Anireth]

Lynus studied what little remained of the parma violet drink in his hand. It certainly went down easily, he thought as he drank the rest of it. A little too easy. He licked the taste of it from his lips. "I feel like i've just gotten in touch with my feminine side." he rasped a quiet laugh, but the amusement on his face faltered briefly.

"And what makes your Lady think I'm not a wealthy client?" he asked, a hint of amusement colouring his voice. With an arched brow, Lynus regarded Isla as she nestled against his shoulder, her presence offering an unexpected sense of comfort. It had been an eternity since someone had rested their head just so, and although a weight settled in his chest, he found himself unwilling to disturb her. She seemed quite content sipping her purple, her gaze meeting his with a charming sincerity, and he felt quite content to let her.

Mercenary adventures.. Right..

Lynus sighed deeply, trying to think of some truth that he could tell her rather than growing the lie he'd already told. His lips curled into a boyish grin and he nodded, deciding on his story.

"When we were younger, and new to that sort of work.." he began, a nostalgic glint in his eye, "My comrade and I were tasked with bringing in a small band of thieves. We hunted high and low for days, traversing towns and villages, following every whisper of their misdeeds."

He paused, shaking his head.. "We decided that we'd earned a night off to indulge in the warmth and camaraderie of a local tavern. We drank, we laughed, we made friends. And we play cards.. Arryn was quite the cardsharp, winning us a tidy sum of coin and a few trinkets to boot."

As he continued, the laughter in his voice belied the impending twist in their tale. "Little did we know, our newfound companions were none other than the very thieves we were meant to apprehend. So, imagine our surprise when we awoke the next morning, lying on the cold, wet road with nothing more than a headache and our undergarments, robbed of everything we had. The horses too." he recounted, shaking his head incredulously. "Swindled by the very men we had set out to capture."

Despite the ordeal, there was a fondness in Lynus's gaze as he recalled their foolish escapade. "And to add insult to injury, we had to trudge back to the city in the early winter chill, with not a thread on our backs nor a coin for a hot meal.. We were bedridden for days with flu." he sighed wistfully.

 

[Isla]

From that comfortable space between his arm and his chest, Isla stared up at him. Just stared with a face full of awe and eyes...Eyes that showed a sort of innocence that seemed so foreign in the room designed for the filthiest desires. Each word, no matter how true or untrue, seemed to linger in the air for Isla to savor. And she did just that, letting through a part of her that had not seen the light of day in far too long. A part that died the day she turned eighteen.

She interjected with an 'oh!' or some laughter throughout the story. Not because it was her job to entertain the clients, but because he allowed that little light that lingered within her to come forth- the part of her she thought had long since stopped dreaming.

By the end of his story, her smile was practically beaming and it may have been partly due to the alcohol, but Isla had eaten up every morsel of it.

She would blame the alcohol entirely for what she did next, for Isla reached up and placed a hand on his face- briefly lingering as she felt the prickly hairs- and placed her lips on his.

How odd! She thought, feeling another mans' lips on her own. A sensation she had felt hundreds of times before. A sensation she had grown used to many years ago. How odd, when it was a kiss given with her consent. To hold such power over something so small, so often disregarded. It was like Isla had awoken yet another part of her she had suppressed. The part of her that could feel.

The kiss was over as soon as it began and Isla faced away, slinking back into that space between his arm and chest. Her face, hot and pink, didn't dare stray from looking straight ahead. Away from him and back towards the glasses of liquor.