for @citer

[cashewlater]

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[cashewlater]

[ cyno chuckles. in some ways, tighnari is very predictable, now that cyno has grown close with him. ]

It'll be a good way to unwind.

[ the noise of sumeru city heralds their arrival, much, he's sure, to tighnari's chagrin, and together they walk dalir and hanan toward the stable site nearest to the akademiya. the gala is being held in one of its many grand halls, a second floor area with marble terraces that overlook the city below, choked by clinging ivy and kalpalata lotuses. a familiar enough sight for both of them, as it were.

with the horses successfully stowed, cyno shrugs off his traveling cloak at last. beneath it he is swathed in black silks and shimmering gold, his nails lacquered black, his eyes lined in kohl, with flecks of gold leaf peppering his eyelids. his wild hair has been somewhat tamed, bound into a heavy, elaborate plait down his back, tied with a glinting golden clasp in the shape of a jackal's head. it's more muted than his ceremonial garb had been when he and tighnari had first met, and seems to fit him more comfortably, even if the golden collar and necklaces are a bit more opulent than is customary. plain golden rings glimmer from his half-gloved hands as he reaches to help tighnari with his own cloak. ]

Are you ready?

[citer]

[ he is, in fact, not ready. the night is clear enough that even the minute sound of a maître d' collecting a champagne flute carries with it is crystalline clink. tighnari can hear it as if he were standing next to it. the swell of the crowd and gala-goers wash over him like a tide as he steps off dalir's back, reluctant to part. his cloak is collected. beneath, he shimmers, like something silverine, the knot of his lashing tail collecting at the base of his low, low v-shape plunge of his rear window. it is, the attendants had said, gravely, the current fashion in the city. he is valuka shuna. the sages will be in attendance. there are expectations. his ears weigh heavy with ornaments, his sleeves parted to reveal long, lean lines of golden paint.

heads politely swivel, eyes downcast with curiosity. tighnari ignores them as he wends his way back to cyno's side. he breathes in, and the night air is all the more cool for it. ]

No, but shall we get this over with? Didn't some valuka shuna in some tale or another tear off his lover's ear for infidelity? I will amuse myself tonight by imagining the partygoers' concerns over whether or not I'll bite, and where.

[cashewlater]

[ with his cloak removed, tighnari is an absolute vision. cyno knows full well how beautiful he is, he witnesses it nearly every day, but he is dressed now to impress, to allure, and cyno has eyes. there's a moment before he answers where his shoulders tense, his gaze sweeping down tighnari's arms, but he's quick to snap his eyes up again. tighnari is not his to stare at, he is more than a beautiful prize, and cyno with respect that, even if he needs to force himself to look anywhere but at the dazzling valuka shuna by his side.

he clears his throat. ]

I look forward to seeing the looks in your eyes when you snap your teeth.

[ and then, he's offering his arm. ]

[citer]

[ cyno, steadfast, stands there like a monolith betwixt an uncertain sea. the dark paint of his eyes casts something grave upon his expression. tighnari slips his arm in his, and he can feel the shiver of gazes as they work to mind their own business - it is, after all, the general mahamatra. anyone with a guilty consciences would look away.

tighnari breathes out. he smiles. ]

You will have front row seats. I promise you that much.

[ they ascend the steps leading to the akademiya. the maître d' bows them in; there is no need, after all, to check cyno's invitation. they step in to a stream of delicate murmurs. tighnari adjusts an earring with an annoyed click of his tongue. ]

They put on too many of these. I feel as though I'm carrying a treasury on my head. Is it crooked?

[cashewlater]

[ on his arm, tighnari will feel cyno's body tense just so, just enough that only those who know him closely would notice. he's as uncomfortable here as tighnari is, having to put on a show of himself, to be the general mahamatra, and leave cyno behind, for a handful of hours. ]

Yes.

[ and, reaching up, he carefully adjusts the earring. ]

Take them off, if there are too many.

[citer]

Did they happen to sew pockets into your fancy get-up?

[ he can see your entire stomach on display, cyno. your entire stomach, and most hip. ]

[cashewlater]

[ wow, don't complain about the view?? ]

I can tuck them in my sleeves.

[citer]

They'd poke you all night. I wouldn't subject you to that. [ but here, tighnari sighs. ] Don't mind me; I'm being fussy.

[cashewlater]

You certainly are. [ he's teasing. ] Let's get some food in you, maybe you'll feel better. We'll stay only as long as we must.

[citer]

[ the buffet table is terribly opulent, and the scent of its various platters of food overwhelming. there's a swathe of salad shirazi carpeting its centrepiece, allowing guests to meander through and past it with their plates as if harvesting from a field. circling it are various stews - tighnari smells eggplant, the mouth-watering scent of herbs and spices, the little acrid tinge of tomato stewed in a khoresh bademjan. above, there is a sumpterbeast turducken still fresh on its spit, layers upon layers of perfectly roasted meat dripping their fats down a bed of rosemary flatbread.

tighnari's ears prickle past the obvious stares as he and cyno make his way to obtain plates. there's a wide moat around them. it's one of the few times that tighnari is inwardly thankful for cyno's ability to strike fear in those who know nothing about him. his appetite, however, is wan as he studies the overly spiced foods on display, perking up only when he spots a neat pile of dolma. ]

Those look edible. Come.

[cashewlater]

[ cyno, meanwhile, has no such aversion to spice, his nose being not so keen as his companion's, so he's content to fill his plate with flatbread and meats, as well as a small helping of zereshk polo. ]

Find something to your tastes?

[citer]

Barely. [ he filches a few of the dolma, and then a few slices of carved meat that look edible. and, for good measure, he dips into a surprising mushroom roast untouched the corner. ] Ah, I knew I smelled mushrooms.

[ then: ] Don't look, but Grand Sage Azar is looking this way.

[cashewlater]

[ cyno exhales a gruff noise, his free hand settling against tighnari's back. with the plunge of his clothing, his callused fingertips brush warm skin. ]

Mm. Let's sit.

[citer]

[ it calms the prickle of his skin, cyno's touch. it is enough. tighnari breezes along until they come to their table. the perk of his ears is still. ]

It's been some time since I've seen him. I'm afraid I won't know where to hold back my tongue. He doesn't deserve it, but it's a pain otherwise.

[cashewlater]

I didn't know you capable of holding back your tongue.

[ the slight slant of cyno's mouth says he's teasing. he's ready to tell tighnari to speak his mind however freely or controlled he prefers, when he hears azar's telltale footsteps behind them. not even a moment's rest to eat before they're forced to socialize..

cyno's expression flattens beneath his helm. work face is on.

Why, General Mahamatra, I see that you've seen fit to bring a most esteemed guest with you tonight.

whether he's being genuine, or whether it is a jab, is up for debate. ]

[citer]

[ tighnari isn't. not really. but instinctive fear is a different matter altogether. azar's voice floats across the hall, and the noise in the room seem to dim to accommodate it. tighnari stills, and his tail curls around him, the prick of his ears watchful. he does not lower his head; he does not, however, look at him.

that azar would not deign to speak to a valuka shuna is a well-known rule, and tighnari has had all of his existence to learn it. ]

[cashewlater]

[ tighnari's subtle reaction is noted, and a knife of anger stabs through his ribs.

cyno does what he can to keep the conversation brief, and to the point, though he does not miss the way azar glances.. appreciatively at tighnari the entire time, like he's nothing more than meat on a dish to be slavered over. beneath the table, he reaches for tighnari's hand, squeezing.

yes, he's happy with his companion. yes, he looks beautiful tonight. yes, cyno thought it entirely appropriate to bring him, to allow tighnari to experience something new. he's a person, not a possession. at that, azar laughs lightly, derisive, as if cyno has told a grand joke. ]

If you'll excuse us, Grand Sage, our meal is growing cold.

[citer]

[ he is a person, not a possession, and azar laughs. tighnari knows the cadence of that laugh. it says the burning of books and the uprooting of plants, the inexorable destruction of links to a chain leashed to a collar. he is not wearing his collar today, has not worn it since the day he met cyno, but he feels its weight nonetheless against the curve of his collarbone.

tighnari spends the conversation with his eyes elsewhere - the hanging plants, the overflowing fountains. but his hand in cyno's squeezes back, hard enough that his knuckles whiten. azar's gaze rakes across him, and tighnari, how has never made himself small for anyone, wishes that he were so.

the conversation ends. the man departs, his footfalls carrying him across the gala towards other pastures. around them, the noise seems to regain its volume. a string quartet in the corner begins to play a tune. tighnari's ears flicker, once - and remembering himself, he lets go of cyno's hand. ]

... did I hurt you? I'm sorry.

[cashewlater]

[ tighnari does an excellent job of playing his part, of course, of keeping his counsel and never looking azar in the face, but his tension is clear in the way he squeezes cyno's hand like a lifeline. it aches, a little, but it's hardly anything worth apologizing over; cyno is quick to shake his head. ]

I'm fine. I apologize, for that.

[ cyno can't help but feel.. sorry, almost cowardly, for not saying more than he had, for allowing etiquette and the chain of command to still his tongue. tighnari deserves better. he deserves someone willing to stand up for him. cyno's jaw is tight, his appetite diminished. he's already formulating ways to right this wrong. ]

He shouldn't bother us again, but others might.

[citer]

[ tighnari's ears prick. indeed, the grand sage's appearance and subsequent conversation seems to have provided permission to the other members of the gala. the dance floor fills. chatter rises, and eyes, one after another, fall upon the set of cyno's shoulders and the exposed line of tighnari's back. concealed question turns to open curiosity. the grand sage himself has acknowledged it, has he not? what else did anyone have to fear?

tighnari, who, to date, only fears one person, raises a brow. ]

I can't say I'm bothered much by others. Ah - [ he stretches the tips of his ears, all the down to the flex of his toes. tighnari feels better, he finds. ] if he never comes back, perhaps today will be salvageable after all. I'm going to eat these; he paid for them, so I will get his money's worth.

[cashewlater]

[ cyno can feel it, the eyes on them, the weight of their stares, he can hear the soft whispers and giggles, but he does what he can to pay it no mind. this much, at least, he is accustomed to all on his own. ]

Fair point.

[ and he was raised in such a way so as to know better than to waste food. they begin to eat. ]

Do you know how to dance?

[citer]

[ tighnari, with a dolma in mouth, considers the question. ]

No. [ he says, and chews thoughtfully. ] There wasn't much in the way of that in the libraries of the Akademiya. Do you?

[cashewlater]

I do. I've had to attend my fair share of.. these. [ gesturing. ] Would you like to learn?

[citer]

Hm, is that so? Before I answer that - who did you dance with at these?

[cashewlater]

Only those who were brave enough to ask. A few esteemed researchers. One of my matra, once. Why?