makinglies | The Moon in the Sea

City of Deismyr, The seat of power for the Northern Coast of the Moonsea. A port and foundry city, rich in trade and exports of manufactured goods. Predominantly human population with mixes of dwarf, tiefling, elf, halfling, and others.

The emblem of a lighthouse with a feather wrapping around it emblazons the flags and the shoulders of the city guard. A storm rages over the Moonsea itself and casts the day in a dark haze for how close it is, but the working day isn't over, despite whatever ruckus might disturb the pattern of city life.

Near the northern-center section of the city stands a tall keep that looks more like a manor house at first glance, were it not for the fortifications and the single tower at one corner, a clock and balcony at it's top. The flag of the city adorns it along side another emblem: a set of feathers, crossed at their ends, a cluster of three six-pointed stars nestled between the spread pinions.

If the city is the seat of the Northern Coast, this keep is the seat of the city, and where particularly noticeable troublemakers are brought, lead through the long main hall with it's doors and halls stretching off it, under the balcony of the second and third stories overhead, and into the main throne room. There's no other word for it when four city guards line the walls and a large throne rests on a dais at the head. A Large desk can be seen against the far wall behind it where a man stands from it and moves to take his place in his oversized chair. The runner had said it was urgent and while the Ardri doubted it was truly more important than what he'd been working on, it was also a break from pouring over tedium.

Dressed in blacks and deep greens of a regally-styled outfit, the Ardri settles back, leg crossed over the other and an elbow braced on the arm of the throne to support his chin as he waits for this errant 'intruder' his guards had found in the city.

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"I hope we don't do anything that brings the guards attention to him." Jacob says, much preferring to be outside of their notice than known and left alone. But he supposes that now he's a friend of the king, a close friend at that, there is risk involved. It didn't look like the city was suffering from the effects of war, but even in peace times a monarch is in danger. Jacob knows that well enough from his own efforts to protect Victoria over the years. And perhaps he can help do that here, look after Chris with skills that others here won't necessarily have...

But he doesn't even get the chance to offer that because Chris is offering to protect him, and Jacob can only smile in return, this expression tender. Chris no doubt can protect him, find a place for him here. It might be necessary too, depending how long returning them might take.

"Chris-" He begins as Chris begins to kiss his wrist and it sends a flare of warmth through him, from his wrist all the way to his toes, and his cheeks heat too. Especially because he too can see the plates being filled and brought this way.

"You're terrible," He says with a soft laugh, because how can he fail to be anything but flattered and worked up by those promises. "And here I was about to ask if there was some way I could serve you. Seems like you already have a few ideas."

Serve me? Hmm...yes, I can think of a few things. I'll be happy to share them later." He offers with a pointed smile as the plates are Placed before them with a nod from the chef. The kids, meanwhile seem to be getting their own, elevated place at a stretch of counter no more than a couple feet from their guardians (and safely out of the way of the staff.) Aliyah cheerfully babbles om about the food and the garden even as her new friend turns to catch Jacob's attention. Chris' smile is fond, even if their conversation lingers between them for the pause.

It gives Chris a chance to listen and watch the man across from him...and think on a more serious answer for him. How he might serve Chris. Was there an answer that didn't just serve the crown? He didn't want that for Jacob. The years had clearly been hard on him. didn't he deserve some rest? Chris didn't want to break what peace he might find while stuck here.

That wicked little smile leaves a heat in Jacob that he can't rightly explain, not after so long, not after years of not remembering, not knowing the man sat with him. And yet it comes back to him in a rush that is familiar and welcome, both in his cock and in his heart. He laughs, feeling that heat work its way to his face as food is set down in front of him. He's not been served by servants since he was living in his own father's home, but at least they're in the kitchen, not in some high hall. That makes this all a little more familiar - Jacob's housekeeper, the woman who helped raise Sammy when Jacob had no idea what to do - takes her meals with them, as a member of the household and a friend.

That's why now Sammy seems to be watching the kitchen staff here, waiting for them to sit down before he eats, and looking at his father when they don't.

"I think they've probably had breakfast already," Jacob tells him gently, "Go on, eat before it gets cold. You've had a real adventure this morning."

Calling it an adventure clearly catches Sammy's imagination, it seems clear that the little boy longs for the adventures he believes Jacob has, and the fact they've been on one together here makes him smile from ear to ear. When Aliyah suggests playing in the garden, Sammy immediately starts setting out an idea for a game- escaping the imaginary guards of the evil fortress.

Jacob lets them talk, hopefully not forgetting their breakfast, and begins on his own, his attention moving to Chris, unusually quiet.

Not for the first time, Chris is reminded just how good a father Jacob seems to be. Calling it an adventure, the gentle way he speaks with the boy...it reminds him of Ra'ah, not made for it as Kallian clearly was, but trying his best...and proving fairly successful. At least in the ways that mattered.

It looked good on him.

He could remember thoughts, now seemingly long past and part of a fever dream, but quiet nights lay in some of them. Vigorous fucking had led to quieter moments of dozing and Chris would sometimes wake up just to trace Jacob's face with his eyes, if not his fingers. He'd indulged in thoughts of what a child between them might look like. Impossible and something he'd kept to himself, especially after it became impossible, but he can see it clearly now. Another life.

Enough so that when Jacob looks back to him, Chris stares at him a moment too long before jerking back to himself as color flares over his cheeks. How silly of him, he could be imaging all sorts of tawdry things he wanted with the other man and he's here daydreaming about a quiet life he couldn't ask of Jacob, no matter how much he loved him still.

He looks down to his food. "My apologies, I was thinking you look good like that: being a father. Suits you well." He shakes his head a bit and spares them both. "When we're through, we can go to the gardens while they play or leave a couple staff to mind them, if you need rest?"

He can't know what Chris is thinking, but while he slowly eats and takes sips of the drinks that they've been given, he watches the other man's face. He seems... calm, relaxed, thinking of something far away or maybe just daydreaming. He looks happy, even if there's a slight tightness that appears at his jaw- as if he regrets something, maybe?

Jacob can't think of what. Chris seems happy here, woth his lovely little girl and his menfolk, even if they are away right now. He has his city and his people, which was something he had cared about so much when they had first met. What could his life be lacking?

A little selfish thought in Jacob's mind says me, but he privately scoffs at the thought. He's here now, and while he might well have to go again, that seems like it will take some time to arrange. Likely months, if not more. And while Jacob can't imagine what people in London will do if he's away that long, he can't do much about it than help Chris as best he can. Which might not be at all.

When Chris seems to return to the here-and-now, and makes his observations about Jacob as a father, he feels his own blush return.

"I'll take the compliment from a man who is himself a good dad." He replies, nodding towards the two little ones, making up their games. "I know neither of us thought we'd be in this position, but we seem to be doing something right."

He reaches out then, to touch Chris' wrist. He doesn't say anything, nothing needs to be said, it's just a gentle, brief little touch that says... a great deal, truth be told. I missed you. I'm proud of you. You deserve happiness. and all manner of things besides.

But then he removes his hand, picks his fork back up.

"The garden would be nice. Let them run around and tire themselves out, and we can talk."

The Moon in the Sea

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