Manus is still passed out by the time they get back.
They find him exactly where they left him—still in the same position, in fact, which the brunette finds odd: usually Manus tosses and turns in his sleep if he’s not wrapped around someone else—lavender still in the air (which they both agree is very impressive; whatever soap or detergent they use here is really something…). But, it makes sense, Jarl thinks, as it’s only been a few hours since he left. Even if he’d gone to bed instantly, which the priest doubts (surely he would have eaten first?), Manus would have only slept two-three hours.
Add to all that the fact that he’s also searching for answers…
Jarl’s certain he won’t be up and about for quite a while.
~
Deciding not to disturb him, Jarl and Áesta quietly drop off their things (id est: Jarl’s now too warm jacket) before heading back downstairs to grab a cup of tea and… well, waste time, essentially.
Jarl winces at that thought, hating it. As much as he knows they need sleep—especially Manus, their mage and literal form of transport—he can’t forget or ignore that, every second they spend not moving forward, Jasey is kidnapped and held hostage in the Devil’s Cavern--not SAFE and HOME where he SHOULD BE.
“Come ‘ere.”
The priest blinks as he’s pulled out of his spiralling thoughts. There’s a too warm (too soft) hand in his, now, careful and gentle as it begins tugging him along. Áesta smiles up at him, seeming excited, as he guides him out of the hotel’s lobby and into the attached bar he remembers seeing from the outside that afternoon.
It’s warmer than the outer view implied.
It looks like an ocean, in fact, with fog for chairs and a ceiling made of stormy skies. Jarl’s actually reminded, for a moment, of a play they used to host in the church’s halls for the parents of their Sunday school children: 40 Days and 40 Nights; the story of Noah and his ark—when God flooded onto the Earth to clean it of filth after telling one man to rescue (preserve) one member of each sex of every species.
Jasey was once in it. (Of course; he was in Sunday school, too).
He couldn’t talk, of course, so they didn’t give him any lines; but, they found he didn’t really NEED them. Jasey’s ability to convey his emotions with his face, body, and actions alone were enough for everyone. Father Liam even rewarded him with a pingin for his stellar performance, saying he might be the best actor they’ve ever had in the church!
Jasey loved that pingin.
He never actually used it. Not even when they were struggling for money after their parents died.
And Jarl never asked him to.
He couldn’t. It meant too much. To both of them, sure, but mostly to Jasey.
To know that his disability didn’t ruin his performance and his determination to not let it made it BETTER…
How could he ever take that proof away from him? He’d rather build things until he breaks than do that…
“Earl?”
Jarl blinks his memories away, blinks back the tears and smiles and ILY signs, to look at the present—at Áesta—and then nods both his head AND his hand. He blushes immediately after. “Ah… y-yes?”
The daemon glances confusedly at his hand, appearing to not understand why he nodded it too, before gesturing to their side (Jarl’s left and Áesta’s right) where a nervous man stands unsurely, “Order?”
“O-oh…” Right. Of course. They’re in Olecastle—Ye Ole Castle House’s BAR—and he should get something… “Um… some tea, please. Gold Blend, if you have it."
“Bewley's or Lyons?”
“Bewley’s, please.” The young man nods, writing that down, before leaving them with a hesitant smile (directed mostly at Áesta, Jarl thinks). The priest glances between the two of them a bit suspiciously before sighing tiredly, “Did you feed from him or something?”
Áesta gapes (and Jarl can’t tell if it’s dramatic or not), “hWat???”
“The waiter,” Jarl gestures after the boy discretely, feeling bad for a moment for not having gotten his name. “Did you feed from him? He looked… expectant?” The priest isn’t entirely sure that’s the right word for it, that… expression the young man had—but it’s the best he can come up with that isn’t overly insulting.
So he thought: “T’e only one expectant ‘ere is ME; or ‘ave ye forgotten our talk earlier ‘bout me feed?”
~
“T’e important t’ing is t’at ye feed me… ye feed me by feelin’ fer me, not getting’ or lettin’ ot’ers ta feel.”
~
Jarl winces as Áesta’s biting words from back then echo in his ears. He understand that now, his duty to him; but… “I haven’t. I just…” The priest sighs, trying to sort out what he means in his head and how to SAY it, too. While he does this, the young man comes back—smiling mostly at Áesta again—and sets down a saucered cup with a spoon on the side and additives still on his serving tray. He finally turns his smile on Jarl.
It’s tight, “Would you like some sugar or milk, sir?”
“No, no; thank you; I’m fine.” Jarl smiles just as tightly and tries to convince himself it’s normal politeness. He’s sure anyone watching can tell he’s irritated.
But not with the boy.
Once the waiter leaves, Jarl sips his tea calmly. It’s good. “What I meant was that the boy seems… interested. In you. Romantically.” He sets the teacup down at stares into bemused green eyes.
He really doesn’t understand.
How… endearing? But also, honestly, annoying. He gets mad if Jarl pawns him off to someone else for a meal but then doesn’t see anything wrong with leading people on if he decides to feed off others on his own???
It’s… childish.
And he should know. This kind of inconsistent and overly needy behaviour is exactly how Jasey was as a teen: he’d critique Jarl for trying to replace their parents after they died but then ask him for parental love.
Of course, he GAVE it—as much as he could—but still.
Jarl sighs, seeing—again—uncanny similarities between his baby brother and pandemonic pet.
(Unbelievable.)
~
“Áesta…
“You can’t go around flirting with people—even if you’re hungry. We’re HUMANS. We don’t understand you and how you eat. Even I don’t and I’ve had it EXPLAINED to me half a dozen times by numerous people now! And I still don’t fully get it because, to us, making those kinds of advances…
“That’s romance; that’s LOVE.
“And to love someone, even just a little, only to have them leave you in a day… You’re just leading people on, Áesta, and that’s gonna hurt them—all of them. Because they just don’t understand… They CAN’T because you literally can’t TELL them you’re a daemon: they’ll never know the truth and see it’s not their fault…
“Take Cael!
“You flirted with him a LOT—both in the boat and as we left. He probably thinks you like him like THAT, now, and he’ll be hurt when he finally understands that you don’t—that you were just USING him to get a meal. And he’ll be hurt WORSE if he finds out by seeing you flirt with another the SAME WAY you flirted with him.
“Like you’re doing with that boy.
“He’s looking specifically at you to see if he has a chance—to see if you two can have some kind of romance. And you’re making him THINK he has that chance by flirting back and leading him on—by setting him up. And even if you’re okay with hurting the random humans we meet or humans that DESERVE IT like Mariti…
“I don’t think you want to hurt the humans you’ve come to like.
“… Back in Bailenac’ringy, I promised you I’d protect you—from Mariti or anyone else who’d try to hurt you; even the church if I have to—but I’m a priest, Áesta, and I have to protect everyone ELSE as well… so… please, if you’re hungry, let me do as I’m SUPPOSED to do: let ME feed you—no one else; just me.”
Comments (0)
See all