Why Our Hearts Have Beats ~ Leon/Llyr
changingthelights:
It wasn’t often that Andel found talent he enjoyed enough to try and add another member to their troupe, but when he did Leon was the first to know. Usually at times that were convenient for Andel, but not necessarily for Leon.
That was how Leon had been roused from sleep the previous evening, jolted awake as a familiar weight suddenly splayed over his chest.
-
With a grunt, Leon cracked an eye open to find his employer straddling his chest, grinning from ear to ear. This particular gleeful expression from Andel, while rare, was one Leon had grown accustomed too. What followed were rarely bad ideas. Part of Andel’s own personal magic, Leon assumed. The demon was strangely adept at acquiring what they wanted, but never in ways that harmed those undeserving.
“I have an idea,” Andel purred, and his dark, pointed tail flicked excitedly behind him.
Leon sighed, returning to sleep was not in the cards, and one hand patted Andel’s thigh. The other rubbed over his face to chase away the remaining fog of sleep.
“Oh? And what would that be?” he yawned as he placed his hand on Andel’s other thigh and gave both a playful squeeze. Then he folded his hands casually behind his head and waited for Andel to continue.
“Well, I met a lovely, lovely musician about an hour ago,” Andel started, and his amber eyes sparkled with excitement. “I think he’d be a perfect addition to our band of merry performers!”
“We already have completely capable musicians, Andel. Do we really have reason to add more?” Leon’s brow arched skeptically. What was so special about this guy’s music that Andel wanted to employ him?
“We have musicians, yes, but we don’t have an actual signer, Leon. I found us a man with a little… supernatural talent. There was a sway to his voice- I found myself wanting to offer the man more coin than I’d normally consider tossing to a bard. Not to mention he was gorgeous, but that aside, he could easily hold a crowd as background to one of our acts. Or- I think- he could hold his own with the band as an opening act! Set the tone for the show, or have a separate show just for music and dancing! There’s unlimited possibilities, if you really think about it!” Andel clapped his hands excitedly together, earning an amused chuckle from Leon.
“It’s your ship, Captain. If you want this bard as a part of our show, who am I to stop you?” Leon shrugged, and he glanced up to catch the eye of a large fruit bat hanging from the rafters of his room. A single eye poked from beneath leathery wings, and he bit back a smile as his familiar’s disdain was suddenly felt, like a foreign pressure against the back of his mind.
“Well I figure I should consult my First Mate before making these types of decisions,” Andel hummed, “especially since I suspect, if he does show up, it might be during our last performance tomorrow, before we set sail.” Andel’s smile widened, and Leon knowingly groaned.
“You want me to greet him and show him in. Show him what we do,” Leon sighed, and moved his hands from behind his head to slide up Andel’s thighs. “Why must I do it?” Leon pouted. “There are plenty of others on this ship who could show him around, and you know I hate doing more work than is necessary.” He squeezed Andel’s waist, and, knowing it was one of Andel’s weak points, let his thumbs press along the V of Andel’s hips. The demon squirmed, and quickly batted Leon’s hands away.
“Well, this is necessary, Leon. And stop trying to distract me, that won’t work,” Andel gripped Leon’s wrists and slid his hands back down Andel’s thighs. “I’d rather you do this. I trust you to handle this carefully, and not scare him off if he seems uncertain.”
Leon groaned again, but he couldn’t resist the hopeful pout that had appeared on Andel’s face.
“Alright, alright. But you owe me an extra day of leave at the next port.”
“Deal!” Andel squealed, and Leon rolled his eyes as the demon nuzzled into his neck.
-
So here he sat, leaning patiently against the railing a few feet from the gangplank as he waited for their guest to arrive.
Thankfully it was a chillier evening, so Leon’s long tunic with loose sleeves and multiple layers weren’t uncomfortably warm. He was dressed in his best in an attempt to impress their guest, a sight not often seen considering Leon rarely wanted to make the effort to do so.
His black, finely polished, knee-high boot tapped idly against the deck, tight dress pants tucked easily into those, and a forest green vest, decorated with with intricate silver embroidery, defined the angles of his chest, down to his waist. A dark green sash with similar embroidery wrapped around Leon’s shoulders and tucked into the belt at his hip, the opposite of which held a small maroon bag cinched and tied with a gold cord.
Next to him, balanced perfectly at his side, was a wooden staff with various herbs and trinkets tied and dangling from the end. Above those arched a branch, few inches above Leon’s head, in a large crescent shape. From the top of the crescent hung a living fruit bat who seemed undisturbed by the gentle sway of the staff.
[He’s here.] Rudi’s voice echoed through Leon’s mind, and he turned to look down the gangplank at the man approaching.
[Andel didn’t mention he was hot…] Leon thought in return, and he heard an audible snort from Rudi beside him. Leon could practically see Rudi’s eyes roll in his mind.
The witch straightened from where he leaned against the railing and re-positioned his staff at his side. His signature grin followed, a soft, charming smile that eased over his lips, and honey brown eyes sought the attention of their new guest.
Up close, Leon could see the others features more clearly, and he was struck my the other’s soft curls and even softer eyes. This bard was beautiful, handsome in a way that made Leon wonder what voice might match that face, and the witch had to reign himself in. His natural inclination was to flirt, who wouldn’t want a man like that in their bed, but now was not the time. He’d promised Andel to be on his best behavior… but that didn’t mean he couldn’t flirt later, right?
“Welcome, to Felicity’s Garden of Earthly Delights! You must be the bard Andel mentioned,” Leon finally spoke once the other boarded the ship. “He asked me to greet you, if you showed. I’m Leon,” the witch bowed politely, and when he straightened his eyes nearly sparkled, perhaps a trick of the faerie lights above. “He asked me to show you to our final performance tonight, but he failed to mention your name. Might I ask what it is?” Leon gestured towards a set of stairs leading to a lower level of the ship, from which the faint sound of music and cheering could be heard.
Llyr jumped slightly as he was addressed. He’d seen the man there, of course - noted him - but hadn’t expected a conversation. “Aye… suppose I am,” came his soft reply. Most of the lilt from his homeland had faded decades ago, but there was still a slight hint of brogue now and then. He wasn’t surprised Andel had told someone to expect him - a man with that kind of confidence… of course he’d expected Llyr to show.
He eyed the other with a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. Handsome… and tousled? Was it possible to make oneself look like that intentionally? Or maybe it wasn’t intentional at all…? The selkie blinked. Had he just seen the man - Leon’s - eyes twinkle?! Magic… The unease was back - the conviction that he was, once again, making the wrong choice - but he forced it into silence. Magic was a tool, nothing more, and could be used for good or for ill. There was no reason to think this man (or anyone else aboard this ship) had malicious intentions. He refused to let that woman’s mere memory entrap him even after her death.
Still clutching his bag tightly, the selkie offered a small smile. “To be fair, he might not’ve gotten my name. Seemed in a bit of a rush.” It had all happened so fast, he really couldn’t remember if he’d even offered it. “I’m Llyr.” Even if he’d had a last name to offer, he probably wouldn’t have. Names had power, after all.
He moved in the direction Leon had gestured, but still kept himself behind or beside the man as he followed him further onto the ship. And his grip on the bag in his arms never faltered. As long as he had it, he was safe. No one could ever imprison him again. Llyr knew he should probably be making small talk, but social niceties weren’t something he’d ever really learned. Then he thought of a question that seemed tame enough in theory (and one he was actually interested in knowing. “Can I ask what you do aboard the ship?”
