" what? i did say your form was all over the place. i was simply showing you how that can be dangerous, " artemisio said, giving himself the pleasure of a soft laugh, which still echoed within his sacred building. he could have been a little more gracious and helped them up, but every once in a while, he allowed himself some amusement. and seeing them flat on their ass was truly funny.
" i told you i can still fight, " he continued once they had caught their breath. under the vaulted halls of the bathhouse, his footsteps echoed as he walked closer, reaching a hand out to help them up. " do you want to go another round, or should we take a few minutes to recover? "
" such an impressive ship, sire. if i didn't know better, i would have assumed you were overcompensating for something, " artemisio said in jest. he chuckled as he approached the port with arms open in greeting, beholding the massive vessel that seemed a bit too large for their harbor. while visitors were never a rare occurrence in their kingdom, dignitaries from other lands usually had their own telltale ways of entering the capital: those from lysain arrived in carriages that glinted like gold under a dusting of sand; those from kaleris came with mounts breathtaking in their beauty and craftsmanship; and those from vissai arrived upon dragons that could shroud the sky with their wings.
ships were typically associated with the watery kingdom of ritrinc, so it was quite a surprise to see the banners of vissai instead. it was a welcome surprise, nonetheless; they were guests, and it was his role to receive them. " i hope the seas of our country have treated you well, captain. are you here on official business, or simply stopping over to resupply? "
according to the legends of lysain, the elusive and mythical sidhes of the sand are located in the heart of the al'shara desert, the vast expanse of sand and dunes that surrounds the kingdom. according to various accounts of their sighting, they either live in a hidden city beneath the sand or use their magic to hide within the mirages formed by the high sun. whichever version of the myth you believe matters little, because searching for them has proven futile, often requiring sacrifices that could cost you your life.
it is said that, when you are within their territory, the sidhe will not hesitate to use magic to trick or test you, employing hallucinations or traps to see if you are worthy of their presence. if they deem you unworthy, the sidhe might trick you into returning home or let you wander the desert until your last breath.
but if they believe you have proven yourself worthy, it is said that you will be welcomed into their realm as a valued guest and treated as royalty. they may grant you three wishes or ensure the fulfillment of your life's greatest desire: wealth, titles, love, or longevity. they provide anything you ask as a reward for your perseverance.
king segun of lysain was one of the few who survived this pilgrimage, and it brought him both his queen and the heir to his throne. though the nobles in his court remain skeptical of this claim, they are forced to accept it, as they can find no other possible explanation for such a miracle.
" if you are looking for any of the princes, they are not here. you are quite a distance from the sunspire. " artemisio chuckled as he waded through the warm water of the pool, his thin purple robe clinging to his wet skin as he did so, which left little to know coverage for his nakedness underneath. he would have provided a more welcoming presence had he been informed of their arrival; typically, the king’s squires would have sent word beforehand of any guests or dignitaries that would visit him or the throne. had that been the case, he would have been in the throne room to receive them, as befitted his duty to the royal council, rather than spending his day basking in the warmth and silence of the baths.
but alas, he never received any word of their arrival. and it would be even ruder if he asked them to leave for another time. as the silence began to grow awkward, he let out a soft sigh and offered the sweetest smile he could muster, raising a hand in welcome. " or perhaps you are here for my services instead? are you not feeling well? perhaps i can offer you a potion or a salve? " he continued, motioning for them to take his hand. “ welcome to the sacra balnea. come on, then—join me, while the water is still warm. ”
the sacra balnea is artemisio’s personal sanctuary, sanctified by a divine well buried deep within the foundations of old varlinnis. following his appointment as grand maester, artemisio was granted the freedom to choose his own place of office. he scoured the kingdom for three days until his instincts led him to a small hill on the border between the academic district and solmyra. there, he declared that a sacred well lay hidden beneath the earth, demanding to be freed. while his duties often keep him by the side of the royal family, he is most frequently found here, as the bathhouse serves as both his official residence and his center of power.
the bathhouse functions as a reception for those seeking the services of the royal healer, but artemisio also maintains it as a place of joy and communal pleasure, reminiscent of the world before the war.
the corridor: the halls are constructed from the finest marble, with vaulted ceilings reaching forty feet high. the corridor is adorned with lush rugs and silken curtains dyed in the royal colors of varlinnis, creating an atmosphere of imperial grandeur.
the reception and waiting area: this is where artemisio greets his guests. to ease the burden of their travels, visitors are traditionally offered food, drink, and a warm, shallow foot bath—a gesture of hospitality meant to soothe the spirit before business begins.
the recovery and healing room: patients requiring rest are brought to this sanctuary. the floors are heavily padded with rugs and soft bedding, and the stone underneath is magically warmed to a cozy temperature to facilitate faster recovery and deep relaxation.
the main bathhouse: the heart of the complex is divided into two distinct pools: one steaming with restorative heat and the other bracingly cold. both are fed by the ancient, sacred well beneath the hill, each serving a specific purpose in artemisio’s ritualistic and medicinal arts.
alexander skarsgard, homosexual, cis male + he/him → is that not artemisio laurentis? i have seen them bearing the crest of kaleris / varlinnis, their loyalty worn plain upon their garb. they are said to have lived for 45 winters and are of the sorcerer folk, shaped by blood and custom alike. by birth, choice, or circumstance, they walk the path of a grand maester, a place they now hold in the world. those who speak of them name them both alluring and persuasive, though not without flaw, for they are likewise lustful and stubborn.
look closer still, and you will find their tastes laid bare: his nude form basking in the sun, calloused hands swaying in the air, a stack of unfinished paintings — small signs of who they truly are.
the grand maester of varlinnis.
name : artemisio laurentus.
nickname : art.
titles : crown prince of kaleris ( former ), the grand maester of varlinnis.
species : sorcerer.
castle and kingdom : the gilded plume, kaleris ( former ). the sunspire, dawnreach.
orientations.
gender : cisgender, male.
romantic orientation : homoromantic.
sexual orientation : homosexual.
sexual temperament : switch, mostly submissive.
sexual position : versatile, bottom lean.
relationships.
parents : king estorio laurentus ( father ), queen artemilla sionis-laurentus ( mother ).
siblings : lancelot laurentus ( crown prince of kaleris ), edwyn laurentus ( second in line prince ), third in line prince, and the youngest prince.
acquaintances : devansh arcanis ( mentor ).
partner : none
children : none.
biography ( placeholder )
before the revelation of his destiny, artemisio lived the life expected of him: the crown prince of kaleris. although it was a role he never truly desired, he performed his duties with grace, determined to uphold the traditions of his realm. he was a true polymath—a swordsman and a dancer, a painter and a scholar. his people looked upon him with both love and awe, seeing in him the absolute security of the laurentus bloodline.
that changed on the day artemisio unexpectedly announced his abdication and his intent to travel to varlinnis. it was a decision that broke many hearts and raised a litany of questions. as far as the court and the country were concerned, there was no reason for him to leave; there were no rivalries, no conflicts, and no threats to his succession. even the king had shown his full support, confident that his son was the perfect heir.
what, then, could drive a young prince to surrender his crown for a distant land? some called it folly, but for artemisio, it was destiny. it was a calling that had haunted his sleep, his art, and even his dance—a path overflowing with a magic a mysterious voice claimed he was capable of wielding. it was a power he knew he could never fully harness if he remained behind.
he fought against the impulse until he could ignore it no longer. his departure was grueling, and his heart ached throughout the long journey from kaleris to varlinnis. his transition from royalty to sorcery was no easy feat, either. yet, through tireless dedication to his new path, he overcame every challenge, eventually rising to the prestigious rank of grand maester of varlinnis.
at the seemingly apparent shift in vibe between the two of them, devansh decided to close the door behind him and step inside of the room. if this were to be a casual conversation, then they didn't need prying ears listening in on them. they would just get in the way of something.
the high priest did remain a respectable distance. he only made it a couple of feet in before deciding to rest his body against one of the small tables in the room.
“ you'll find a lot of capable people here to do that. we were once a great epicenter, which is a fact that can still be felt. ” as he studied the crown prince, he crossed his arms over his chest. for most, that was being closed off. for him, that's how he showed he trusted them. “ be careful with that one. a nomadic elf that can charm the pants off of the strongest man around. ”
a wicked smirk formed on his face, knowing what some of these needed. “ perhaps i should leave you here with the new staff who can help you get ready? ” a brow rose at the question.
" oh, i have never doubted that, sir. i’ve only been here for a few days and i have already experienced the ... abundance of your people’s hospitality. " samras’s voice carried a distinct lilt now, and his smile was a shade naughtier than before. he bit his lip as he watched the man finally close the door and step inside. there was still a lingering sense of respect in the distance between them, but the mere fact that they were finally alone was enough for the prince.
at the other’s warning, he laughed softly. " please, that is nothing. i have been with many elves before and, though they act high and haughty, you simply need to learn which buttons to push. it is quite fun to see them fold and crumble. "
seeing that the atmosphere in the room had shifted, samras felt very little shame. " but you said i had more time ... " he murmured, letting out a low moan as he pressed himself back against the bed. he made a show of absentmindedly running a hand over his chest and belly, following the trail downward until his hand was dangerously close to the edge of the sheet—leaving no doubt that he was wearing nothing beneath it.
" but i won’t stop you if you are truly busy, " he added, his eyes locked on the man. " do you really want to leave? "
malik listened more than he spoke — he often did. there was something steady about the way samras spoke of his people, of purpose, that malik had always found a little disarming. not intimidating, exactly. just… certain. the kind of certainty malik rarely carried for long.
his gaze followed the necklace when samras lifted it, light catching in the gem. for a moment the colors danced across his eyes — red, gold, something warm and alive. not unlike flame trapped in glass.
“it suits a king who values stories,” he said quietly. “it looks like something people would gather around.”
his fingers lifted, not quite touching the stone, just letting the faintest ripple of moisture in the morning air settle against it. the surface gleamed a little brighter for a heartbeat before he withdrew again, as if nothing had happened.
“your people will like it,” malik added, softer. then, with a small tilt of his head, “though i suspect they would like whatever you chose, regardless.”
the mention of books drew a more genuine spark of interest from him. malik’s expression warmed in a way that was less careful than before. “books are a dangerous gift,” he murmured. “they tend to stay with people longer than gold does.”
his eyes drifted briefly in the direction samras had pointed, toward the academy district, before returning to him. “varlinnis will pretend it was unnecessary and then quietly treasure them.”
and then, lighter again — the familiar ease slipping back in.
“though i am relieved to hear you are not merely wandering markets in search of me.” a pause, faint amusement touching his voice. “i was beginning to think i had become terribly important overnight.” that would be a new one.
he glanced back at the stalls, thoughtful, almost idly circling the edge of the moment samras had opened. “do you often choose gifts yourself,” malik asked after a beat, “or is this one of those duties that follows crown princes wherever they go?”
" i’ll take your word for it, then. my father isn't as fond of stories as he was when he was young; hopefully, this would spark something, " samras said with a jest, before handing the necklace to the delighted merchant and continuing his browsing. as he did, it was his turn to be silent at the other prince's words—just for a moment.
to be considered a miracle for his kingdom was a blessing, yet it remained a tightrope he had to navigate every day. in a den of snakes, poison, and whispers in the shadows, being loved was not always a good thing; many secrets could be hidden under a smile.
" books can only be dangerous in the hands of dangerous men. much like magic, or swords ... or a pretty smile, " he said, pausing on the last word as he cast another purposeful glance at malik. he tried to maintain his air of playfulness but failed, breaking into a smile as he saw the other’s face warming up. " and isn't that the truth about knowledge? to stay with people and to share it with others. there should be no fear or worry in that. "
was it naive of him to think so? according to some, yes. unfortunately, he was also stubborn.
" well, i wouldn’t say i wasn't wondering where you were as well. perhaps you have been incredibly important to some people, " he continued, his full focus now on the prince. “ i have so very few friends here, so it was disheartening not to find you when i arrived. ”
he let that hang in the air for a moment before answering the question. " not really, though i did have a say in it most of the time. lately, my father had relied on me a lot for the choice of gifts. and do you usually hang around markets and places far from your castle during special events? "
“ i do hope that you're able to speak freely if when there are less people around. it's okay to admit he wasn't being a good guest. ” it's not like speaking ill of the man would have been speaking ill of the crown, so no one would have bat an eye. yet, devansh knew that he was offered certain social privleges. one that ansegar could have also gotten if his history was known. which reminded him to stop looking at the younger man and his bird as if he knew that. the high priest wondered if that was a bit creepy, but he couldn't help it. his mother was a great student after all. he shifted the focus onto his own chalice, going back to the contents in it.
his gaze never left the other man's though. he wanted to ask him probing questions like how was the watch treating him. how did his abilities manifest, if at all. yet, he kept that all at bay for the moment. devansh made sure not to give too much away at first.
“ i hope that it's at least an exciting trip then. ” he offered him a small smile. a sign that he wasn't spooked easily. “ do not worry about me. she's the perfect guest and i wouldn't do anything ot get her to scare me. ”
ansegar was quiet for a moment, offering only a light chuckle at the man’s words. right—he remembered now. varlinnis wasn't a kingdom of humans like himself. there were those here who could see through a feeble mind, reading thoughts even before a man could decide what to do with them. was that why he felt so uncomfortable? the knowledge that this stranger could read him like an open book without even trying?
but then, what could a man like this read from someone like ansegar? he had lived his entire life at the watch and didn’t even know his own story. he felt like a child only just granted freedom from a nursery, armed with nothing but the fragmented images of a dream.
" it has been ... revealing, to say the least. i’ve only ever dreamed of what varlinnis looked like, and it is certainly much more than that in person, " ansegar said. he was still unsure how he felt about walking these streets. he knew the city was connected to him, but whether he was ready to face that connection was another story entirely.
" go on, girl. i’ll be fine. " giving gunna one last stroke over her head, he clicked his tongue in command … and the eagle flapped her wings and soared, heading for the heights. " hopefully she won’t bother anyone else. my name is ansegar, by the way—since we’re discussing manners and all that. "
as one of the high priests of the land around them, it was his duty to be well acquainted with the royal families. he knew of samras and the lysain clan quite well. princes that seemed to enchant even the broodiest of folk with their natural beauty. one that even devansh had to call attention to from time to time. he could not deny the fact that they were most fortunate when it came to appearance. something that he assumed they were all aware of. so he was glad that he could at least make the crown prince's company once during his stay.
hearing that the man wanted someone to wait on him wasn't a shock either. yet, the elder of the two just rested his back up against a wall. he wouldn't provide that satisfaction. “ i'm sure i can grab a service person or two. what's your type? ” his brows knitted together as his mind flashed pictures of the staff. “ now i'm curious who you ran into. ”
he shook his head slowly, almost sad that he had interrupted the man's beauty sleep. “ your duties, the breakfast, don't start for another hour. i just wanted to ensure you were in good condition to make it. ”
his attempt at a princely demeanor vanished as quickly as it had arrived the moment he realized the visit was not a formal one. though he was in brighter spirits now as their conversation went on. perhaps this high priest was unlike the others he had met; most, even those back in lysain, were dreadfully dogmatic and never any fun.
languidly, he sank back into the plush mattress, letting out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan. he couldn't suppress a smile when the high priest inquired about his "type."
" unlike other princes, i am not so difficult to impress. i only want someone who can keep up with me, " he mused, his voice taking on a sing-song quality as he looked up at the man. “ hmm. if my memory serves, he was lithe but well-built. brown eyes, curly hair ... perhaps new to his role in the palace? am i narrowing it down at all? ”
his gaze never left devansh as he nodded, acknowledging the confirmation of his schedule. his eyes were inviting—challenging, even. " that’s good, then. though, since i am awake now ... i’m not entirely sure how i should spend the next hour ... "
Could his eyes roll harder, they would've tumbled from his skull and bounced across the cobblestone. The boy's obsession with this festival escaped him. However, it wasn't like Hush could fault Anse for being curious of the world protected by the Wall. It wasn't until he became a man that he had seen anything outside of Feranthor. There wasn't much he could do about Ansegar's curiosity, nor would he want to change him. However, this obsession only became more consuming once the Sentinel discovered his origin. Hush made him promise not to tell anyone in the city before they arrived..
"Were it my decision, you would still be at the Wall. You have Feranthor’s Hand to thank for seeing this monument to disaster."
It was his decision, but his Hand had quite a way with words... and guilt-tripping. Perhaps he was being too overprotective of a grown man, free to make his own decisions. Viewing Ansegar as someone that needed to be hidden and protected should stop but old habits died hard. Even more difficult to forget was his distaste for this kingdom.
“We tolerate the nobility. You enjoy yourself while you can; eat, drink, fuck - just stay out of trouble.”
the more he walked the streets of varlinnis, the more his smile wavered as the memory of his dream resurfaced. even now, ansegar remained unsure of what that dream meant for him. but he recognized the voice that had been singing within it, and now that he was physically here, he was certain this was the place he had seen. though the images in his mind were only hazy fragments, the city felt familiar in a way that unsettled him. varlinnis held the keys to his past.
part of him argued that he should be happy; he could finally piece together his origins and discover the parents he had never known. this city was a riddle waiting to be unraveled. and yet, a cold fear lingered in his heart—it felt like picking at a long-dried scab, risking a wound that might bleed all over again.
" are they truly that bad? the nobility, i mean, " he asked, sounding like a child still clueless about the inner workings of the world. in many ways, he was; his reality had always been defined by the harsh, cold life on the wall. “ we knew some of them in the watch, and they were kind ... brave. not at all the egotistical royals people keep telling me about. ”
" and what will you be doing while we are here, anyway? are you not even going to join me for my first drink outside of the wall? "
a look of surprise spread across kaelen's face as he heard the other man's words. “have the maesters taken a look at you?” kaelen asked with concern lacing his voice. he may not know the other man, but he definitely did not wish death. especially in some place where they were gathered to keep the peace. but then the other man cleared it up as a joke, and kaelen's mouth almost comically fell open for a moment before he huffed. “not a very funny one.” he grumbled and playfully and lightly whacked the man on his arm.
and then the other mentioned how his father would be ashamed if he had introduced himself like that, and kaelen coulnd't stop the soft sigh. he supposed he was a little out of practice formally introducing himself. not having had to do it for so many years. at the other man's request, kaelen smiled and nods his head. “my name is kaelen sylvaris. the third prince of umoria.” kaelen introduced himself with a nod of his head.
“as for why i'm here, my parents implored me to get out and reintroduce myself to all of the royals and high nobles. it's… been quite some time since i've gone to any of these formal affairs. not many remember my face.” kaelen says with a chuckle and a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“little did i know that i would be approaching a talking corpse waking up from his beauty nap after drinking wine.” kaelen jested back with a small smirk.
" not for you, perhaps, dear prince. i, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed that. you should have seen your face just now. " samras chuckled, biting his lower lip as he looked at the prince once more. but what he said was true; even he—who was expected to know every royal from the neighboring lands—was having a hard time placing the man before him. it was quite embarrassing, really, considering their kingdoms shared a common border and have a healthy trading relationship.
the only memories he possessed of the prince were fleeting glimpses: brief snatches of conversation and shared tables, both of which were little more than background noise in the crowded mind of a crown prince. perhaps this moment was a blessing, then—a chance to finally meet and know one another more intimately.
so far, he loved what he saw. the other royal possessed the ethereal beauty common to the elves of umoria, tempered by a raw, human touch that only a 'spare' prince could afford to keep.
following the other's introduction, samras offered a respectful nod and sat up further in bed. " thank you for that introduction, your highness. i am unsure if we have ever truly been formally presented, but i am samras shal’venar, crown prince of lysain. "
he attempted a seated bow. " i would stand to greet you properly, but alas ... " he gestured pointedly to the bedsheet draped around his waist—his only concession to decency. " ... i am hardly dressed for the occasion. "
The half-elf had watched what had transpired, seeing the eagle moving to attack some individual in the streets, and it had him curling a brow as he watched the bird's... friend quickly move to collect it. With his own ability to form bonds with animals, he was able to tell from the way that the eagle preened under his touch that she was far more than just a pet, and even more than just a friend - they were bonded. Maybe not quite in the way that Arix was able to bond with animals, but in a more human way.
It was enough to have the half-elf approaching the other man, curious and calm as his tiger walked by his side, her flank pressed against his calf as they walked - as it usually were. "Interesting," he started as he approached the other, admiring the bird for a few brief moments before his eyes shifted back to the other male, a warm amber that seemed to shine with curiosity.
"Not very often I see that a non-elf is able to bond with an animal, but I suppose... One can always see new things, mm?" the prince questioned before he brought a finger up close to the bird, not quite touching her yet but close enough that it was apparent that he was asking for her permission, not the human's.
"Beautiful creature you are," he stated, admiring the bird for a few more moments before his attention shifted back to the human that held her. "Ah, but where are my manners? I'm Arix, prince of Umoria... And who might I have the privilege of knowing?"
" i don't think there is much mystery to it, sir. i’ve raised her since she was a chick, and we have never left each other’s side. she's been my best friend and most loyal companion. " ansegar said, to which gunna replied to with a playful peck to his head, as if trying to groom him. he couldn’t help but laugh softly, though he didn't pull away. " as one of my brothers from the wall says, some connections don't need to be magical or superhuman. sometimes, you just need love and companionship. "
when the man approached and sought gunna’s permission to touch her, the bird simply eyed the stranger's hand and leaned away with a soft but firm chirp. ansegar realized that if they were to spend more time in cities, he would definitely need to work on her socialization. however, when the half-elf mentioned she was beautiful, gunna straightened her posture in a display of smug pride.
" alright, that’s enough out of you, my lady. i will call for you when i need you, okay? " ansegar said. with a quick click of his tongue, he launched gunna into the sky. her golden wings glinted in the sunlight as she took flight.
" it is an honor to meet you, your highness, " he said, bowing in respect just as his brothers had taught him. with his head still lowered, his eyes fixed on the tiger circling the man's feet—a detail he hadn't even realized was there until now. " i am ansegar of the watch. and... there is quite a large cat at your feet, sir. is he a friend of yours? "
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