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odderancyart · 6 years

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On a Never Resting Sea

Chapter XVI: Visitors

First Last Next

AO3

Summary: Razz, the heir of the Beobyrian Empire, is on his way home from a diplomatic mission as his ship gets attacked by pirates. Suddenly he finds himself taken as hostage, and it doesn’t seem like the pirates are planning to exchange him for a ransom anytime soon. How annoying.

Warnings: violence, death, blood, hostage holding, kidnapping, prostitution

The brothel was eerily quiet. There was noise, but it was too distant to actually make the hallways feel less empty, less foreign. Some faint noise came from inside a room or two, but nothing loud. In fact, the loudest noise was Razz’s heels clicking against the floorboards as he walked. The sound echoed over the walls, making the hallways seem even emptier. Studying his surroundings, he found another few of the portraits he had seen when he and Red visited. More whores in positions meant to seduce. He wasn’t going to deny that many of them were attractive. Beautiful, even. It was a comfort.

There had been few beautiful things since he left Waeldé, going home from his diplomatic mission. The sunlit ocean had been gorgeous. Carai Zalû had been lovely. The star sky and colourful sunsets had been enchanting. Red had been beautiful. But it wasn’t like home. Like the castle and the city streets and the fields filled with yellow canola.

Lost in thoughts, Razz didn’t realize at first that he had reached the end of the hallway. He was standing in front of a door. Here the noise wasn’t quiet anymore, laughter and talking filling his ears. He reached out a tentative hand, sliding the door open. The sight that met him was unexpected. He wasn’t in the bar, but rather in a dinner room. It was filled with monsters and humans, who had to be both prostitutes, guards and other staff, and they were seemingly having a merry time. Muffet was sitting at the head of the table.

Most of the ones who had to be whores and staff had bowls of porridge in front of them. Some ate better. The brothel madam, of course, ate best of them all. The smell of it reached Razz, and he felt his stomach hurt. He hadn’t had fresh meat in ages. Pirates didn’t eat very well. The room gradually fell silent as their gazes found him and he straightened his back.

“WE’RE HUNGRY,” he announced loudly. He had already been assured that food was, in fact, included in the price of the suit. Muffet giggled, and stood up. She was smiling widely at him and gestured vaguely toward some staff-members.

“Well then, my dearies,” she said. Her voice was high-pitched, like a child’s, as she continued. “We can’t have that, can we. Someone fetch the good sir his food. And Blueberry?”

She addressed Razz as she asked the question and he nodded stiffly. Muffet seemed slightly surprised, judging from how her eyes widened, but smiled sweetly. “How nice of you, sir. Now-“ she clapped her hands together. “-who will take care of this?”

A scratching noise made Razz wince as a chair was slid away from the table. The owner of it, a guard judging from the clothing, stood up. They looked tired, but held up a hand, their porridge seemingly forgotten.

“i’ll do it, madame. if you’ll allow me,” they said quietly but clearly. For a short moment, Muffet looked thoughtful before she nodded shortly.

“Of course, Stretch dear. Just behave.” The last word was said with a surprising sharpness. The guard only nodded tiredly. Razz wasn’t sure what he had just witnessed, but frankly, he didn’t care. It was none of his business. Muffet turned back to him. “If you wish, you can go back to your room, sir. Stretch here will deliver the food as soon as it’s done.”

“GOOD. THANK YOU.”

When Razz came back to his suit, Blueberry had almost fully mended the dress. The other still seemed a little pale because of the blood – even though Razz could not understand why – but smiled at him as he announced that the food was coming. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Razz picked up one of the books from his trunk and sank down into the armchair again. Whilst browsing through it he came upon something that made his soul sink. Some scribbles. They’d been made by Slim when they were kids, and Razz had been so angry that he wrote in her book.

His brother. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten. Or rather, that he had supressed the thoughts of Slim because they made him hurt. More successfully than the thoughts of Red, too. His soul began to beat hard as he thought about what might be going on in the castle. With Slim on the throne. The thought was frightening enough that he felt his breathing harden and he gripped hard on the book. Its leather-bound cover dug into his hands. Then a concerned voice broke him out of his near-panic,

“M’lord?”

Closing his eyes, Razz took a few moments to calm down. He slowly let go off the book. Once he looked at Blueberry, he found that the other was wide-eyed in worry. It was strange that the other worried about him, but he found himself appreciating it. Slowly, he forced himself to smile.

“I’m fine, Blueberry,” he sighed. For a moment, he thought of brushing it off. The other wasn’t going to question it. Razz shook his head. No. “Do you- do you know anything about what is going on in Beobyra? Especially at the royal court? With Sl- Pr- King Slim on the throne, I mean.”

The words were painful, especially to call his brother ‘king’. Yet he had to be careful with his wording. Razz wasn’t entirely sure what would happen if someone figured out he was the missing queen, but he didn’t want to take the risk of being unable to return home. He trusted Blueberry, strangely enough. Just not that much.

To his relief, Blueberry nodded. He smiled as Razz relaxed. “I do, m’lord. We do get a lot of news here; customers talk. Especially after a few cups of Aellwynian mead. That stuff is strong.”

Blueberry put down the dress on the table before turning. That way he now faced Razz directly. Razz curled together in the armchair, clutching the book slightly. Only waiting for the other to speak. The book was quite soft, since the leather was old and well-taken care of. His roommate gave him a confounded gaze, but spoke.

“I can’t promise everything is accurate, of course,” Blueberry warned. “It comes from thieves and pirates, and have travelled a long way through hearsay. I’m sure you understand that, m’lord. But from what I’ve heard, Beobyra seems to be as strong as ever. There were some messy things going on after the assumed death of the Crown Princess – but he’s alive, he was spotted here in port soon after you left the Parlour – but it seems to have gone well. Prince Slim, I think, was doing horribly until those news reached the capital. He’s better now, it seems. Is that to your satisfaction, m’lord?”

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Razz nodded. Thank the Mother, his brother wasn’t in too bad a situation. At least according to hearsay, but that was the only source of news he had now so he’d have to trust it. He stood up, smiling gratefully at Blueberry. Razz walked over to the table, studying the rip in the dress. It was practically invisible.

Just as he praised the other, it knocked on the door. The food must be here. Blueberry looked at him questioningly, and he nodded again. The other went over to open the door. In the opening the guard stood, carrying a tray. Stretch didn’t even look Razz’s way as he stepped in. He only had eyes for Blueberry.

Razz studied Blueberry, saw his eyes light up as he opened his door. Saw a loving smile appear on his face. They only stood there for a few moments, the taller studying Blueberry in worry and the shorter frowning as his eyelights travelled over the huge bruise on the Stretch’s cheek. Blueberry threw Razz a gaze before gesturing for the other to come in. Stretch immediately did so, setting the tray down on the dinner table. He quickly eyed Razz suspiciously but bowed his head in a show of respect. Razz nodded in reply.

“M’lord,” Blueberry eventually said, after the room had been awkwardly quiet for a few moments. “This is my brother, Stretch. Brother, this is Lord Razz. He’s been very kind to me, don’t worry.”

At Blueberry’s words, Stretch’s shoulders sank and he appeared less stiff. He glanced up for a second at the word ‘lord’. Razz studied him curiously. So this was the brother he had heard about? Hm. Then the scent of the food began to spread around the room and he felt his stomach ache again. Taking the few steps to the table, he studied the food. Wonderful.

Meat and potatoes and sauce and jelly. Better than anything he’d eaten in weeks. Or months, perhaps. He blinked.

“WHAT DATE IS IT?” he asked, and Blueberry quickly replied.

Woah. He had been at Sarynthia for four months. It was two months after the winter solstice. In warmer countries, spring was on the way. Not in Beobyra and Aellwyn, though. Not for another three or four months. Fucking stars, he’d been away from home for half a year, the trip to Waeldé included. It wasn’t strange he ached in homesickness whenever he came to think of Thyragård or his family.

His thoughts didn’t linger, however, as he breathed in the smell of warm, fresh food. Throwing a glance toward Stretch, who still was anxiously regarding Blueberry, he sighed.

“CARE TO JOIN US FOR DINNER, STRETCH?” he asked, causing them both to stare at him. First in amazement, before Blueberry’s face paled. He shook his head violently.

“I-I-“ he stammered, raising his hands nervously. “I can’t eat this, m’lord. I can’t afford this. Especially not for both of us. Porridge or nettle soup is fine, and cheap.”

Both brothers looked almost scared and it was the weirdest thing Razz had been through lately. Which didn’t say a little. Did they think he was going to force them to eat and pay for it? He laughed in disbelief and shook his head.

“I’M PAYING,” he stated. Their eyes widened even more, and Stretch’s mouth fell open slightly. Raising his eyebrow, Razz snorted. It was quite amusing to see. “YOU’RE WORKING FOR ME RIGHT NOW, BLUEBERRY, AND I INVITED YOUR BROTHER. TO NOT PAY FOR YOUR SUBORDINATES’ FOOD WHILE THEY’RE WORKING, AND EVEN MORE NOT TO PAY FOR YOUR GUESTS’ FOOD, IS SIMPLY BAD MANNERS. NOW SIT DOWN AND EAT. I’M NOT GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER LONELY MEAL AFTER ALL THE ONES ON THE SHIP.”

Without another word, the other two obeyed almost automatically. They didn’t seem to know what to say. Razz, on the other hand, had quite a few well-chosen words he wanted to tell their boss. What kind of employer didn’t include food in the salary for this kind of work? For workers who most likely lived on their place of employment? That was nothing but being a cheapskate and exploiting others. Even his father had fed the Peosani forest workers they’d had to cut down the Forest of Tamyr. Despite them rebelling every other day.

Those thoughts quickly disappeared as he took his food. The moment he put some meat and potatoes in his mouth, they were gone. Seal, it seemed. The food melted on his tongue and he had to keep himself from moaning. The wine served with it was rich. Not the same trash he’d gotten when he’d met Blueberry. He was going to savour this.

Blueberry and Stretch, it seemed, had no such restrictions. Without more than the most basic table manners they scarfed down the food. Razz snorted. They still had better manners than the pirates. He watched in amusement as the food disappeared quicker than he’d ever seen food being eaten before. Though he supposed both only rarely – if ever – ate quality food.

Once their food was gone and they seemed content, Razz decided he could start a conversation. It hadn’t been much use earlier, he was sure.

“AM I RIGHT THAT YOU’RE A GUARD, STRETCH?” he asked curiously. He took another look at the other’s clothes. Leather boots, brown trousers, a simple tunic. A leather belt by his side, on which empty knife and dagger sheathes hung. Stretch nodded, wiping some sauce of on his sleeve. A protesting noise and disgusted expression came from Blueberry, making the corners of Stretch’s mouth twitch for the first time.

“yep, m’lord,” he confirmed. His voice was low, drawling, a little hoarse. Razz wondered if he smoked. “part o’ the security here. to make sure no one leaves without paying or does somethin’ dangerous with the workers.”

At the end of the last sentence, his voice had become dark. Almost furious. Razz didn’t as much as blink. He could understand why, though, seeing how Blueberry appeared to be a popular choice here. ‘One of the best’, he’d said himself. Razz couldn’t even imagine how he’d felt if it had been his brother. Strangely enough, as Stretch’s voice turned dark, Blueberry hushed him quickly.

“HM,” was all Razz replied. As he finished his meal, the conversation continued. It was mostly him and Blueberry who spoke, while Stretch seemed to prefer to keep his mouth shut unless directly spoken to.

Eventually, they moved over to the couch. The food was eaten, but they still had wine left, which they took with them. The conversation was pleasant, if shallow. Razz and Blueberry talked about clothes and music and a show Razz had seen at the Royal Theatre before he left home. Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. After receiving a ‘come in’, the person at the door opened it. Another guard stood there.

“Excuse me, sir,” they said to Razz, before looking toward Stretch. “Madame wants you to come with us to find some suitable orphans today, Stretch.”

Whilst Razz tried to figure out what that meant, Blueberry’s and Stretch’s expressions grew colder. Their mouths were set as Stretch stood, quickly followed by his brother. Glass clinked as one of Blueberry’s hands bumped into the wine pitcher. The sun reflected in the red wine as it swayed. It fell. Razz’s soul stopped beating as he saw it falling toward his still open chest. Toward all his things. Clothes, documents, books. The ground closed in on him as he dove toward it.

Seconds before it got crushed against the metallic edges of the chest, his hand closed around cold glass. Pain shot through him as his fell onto it instead. It was nothing. Not compared to what Alphys put him through every time he trained with her Elite. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was holding the pitcher tightly. It hadn’t destroyed anything. Razz closed his eyes shortly.

When he opened them again, he looked at the brothers. Blueberry’s eyes were wide and his hands pressed hard against his mouth. Stretch stood still as a statue, and wore less expressions than one. As soon as Razz began to sit up, Blueberry was quick to offer his hands to help him up. His face was pale.

“I-I-I-“ he stammered, eyelights flickering wildly. Razz put the pitcher down on the table again, far away from the edge. “I-I’m so sorry, m’lord. I did-didn’t mean to. M’lord, I- I’m sorry-“

Razz dragged a hand over his sockets. Sighing, he shook his head tiredly. Normally he would’ve yelled at a servant who’d done something like that. Had he been home, or at another royal or noble court. Yet, he couldn’t. Blueberry seemed absolutely terrified, in a way no servant he’d met had ever been.

“IT’S FINE,” he said, rubbing his elbow. It had taken the biggest hit. Stretch didn’t seem to believe him, and Blueberry didn’t seem to hear him. He just kept muttering apologies. “BLUEBERRY. SHUT UP FOR A SECOND.”

He immediately fell quiet.

“IT’S FINE,” he repeated. He did his best to keep his voice soft. “NOTHING WAS DESTROYED, ACCIDENTS HAPPEN. MY ELBOW GOT SCRAPED BUT THAT’S NOTHING TO CRY OVER.”

The brothers stared at him for a moment, before Blueberry’s entire body seemed to relax. He trembled slightly as he sank down into the couch, staring up at Razz.

“Y-you’re not going to punish me, m’lord?” he asked faintly. Razz shook his head, frowning slightly.

“NO, I WON’T. OF COURSE NOT.”

He wouldn’t even punish his own servants for something like that, even less someone like Blueberry. Someone without training and someone who’d obviously been treated badlys. Razz wasn’t sure what kind of punishment the workers at Muffet’s brothel got for messing up, and he honestly had no wish to find out. He twitched slightly as the sound of knocking came. The new guard looked slightly awkward where they were standing, but glanced meaningfully at Stretch.

Stretch, who had relaxed slightly, sighed and nodded. Blueberry flew to his feet, hugging him tightly. Razz watched Stretch pet the other’s head before leaving. Once the door had clicked close, he turned to Blueberry.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” he wondered, and received a nod. Blueberry laughed quietly. He was still trembling.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “I am. But I might need a moment, m’lord.”

Nodding shortly, Razz wandered over to the other side of the room, granting the other some space.

“YOU KNOW HOW TO PLAY THE VIOLIN?”

The two of them were sitting on the suit’s only bed, which was Razz’s – Blueberry was fine with sleeping on the couch and said it was more comfortable than his own bed. Razz’s instruments were spread out before them. The room creaked and squeaked slightly as the old floorboards moved. It was otherwise quiet. He had been cleaning his flute, the violin lying on the bed, as Blueberry came with the surprising comment that it had been “years since I played the violin.”

Razz blinked, raising an eyebrow. “YOU CAN PLAY?”

As he rubbed the cloth over the cold metal and snowy patterns of the flute, Blueberry nodded. That was interesting. Obviously poor people played too. Yet he hadn’t expected the other to know how to, for some reason. Blueberry smiled at him.

“Not a lot, m’lord,” he said. His eyelights moved over the violin and he looked almost reverent. Smirking slightly, Razz grabbed his arm and moved his hand to the instrument. He hadn’t seemed like he dared to touch it, despite wanting to. Which was understandable, really. The violin had been a birthday gift, so he wasn’t sure how much it costed, but it was definitely worth more than Blueberry earned during a whole year. The other smiled, caressing the shiny surface of dark, polished wood. “But I did play when I was little, yes. Before my brother and I ended up at the streets. Dad thought it would be a good skill to have.”

Within moments after Blueberry had finished speaking, Razz smiled widely. Moving the other’s hand to the violin’s neck, he nodded as the other’s sockets grew wide.

“PLAY.”

If the other was bad enough to destroy the violin, however that would work, it wasn’t too big a catastrophe. Flute was his primary instrument anyway. Once he got back to the castle – whenever that would happen – he could get a new violin. Blueberry looked tentative, but as Razz nodded again, he inhaled deeply.

“It’s been years,” he warned. Razz only shrugged in response. As Blueberry put the bow on the strings, he braced himself. The first tones rarely sounded good for someone unused. Wincing, he nodded to himself as an ear-splitting shriek went through the room. Blueberry blushed. Yet he continued as Razz waved him on.

Eventually, a simple melody floated through the room. It wasn’t perfect, certainly not. Razz smiled widely anyway. Not perfect, but pretty. Blueberry’s face was scrunched up in concentration. He couldn’t recognize the tune, as it suddenly dove to the lower notes. It was probably an Aellwynian, or southern Beobyrian, folksong. The melody was slow, either because it should or because of Blueberry’s inexperience. It wobbled a little as the musician hesitated. Yet, as Blueberry took the bow of the strings, Razz’s palms hurt a little as he hit them together in applause. Blueberry was smiling despite how his cheeks were still flushed slightly blue.

“Was it very bad, m’lord?” he asked, holding out the violin for Razz to take. His voice was unbothered and he was grinning. Razz shook his head and took it.

“NOT AT ALL,” he replied, and the other’s grin widened. “IT WAS SURPRISINGLY GOOD, ACTUALLY.”

Blueberry seemed to sit a little straighter at the praise, and his grin turning into a sincere smile. Then he pointed between the violin and the flute. “Could you play something for me, m’lord? I’d like some other music than the pub songs downstairs.”

Without a word, Razz grinned and put the violin he was still holding between his jaw and shoulder. The bow floated over the strings into a song which had been popular at the Court when he left, and he began to play. The tune danced through the room.

And even as he looked at the smiling Blueberry, he could almost hear the rustle of movement and clinking of glass and metal as the Court dined together while a singer held concert in the background. See the stone walls filled with banners depicting their history to keep the warmth in and the hearths which burnt constantly through the long winters. Razz let the bow fly, and could hear the Court singer’s voice, making the lyrics ao beautiful they almost could’ve been sung by the Mother Herself.

I dreamed once About a beautiful land I dreamed once About a lovely town I dreamed once About a home for me

And guess what? I found it here

It’s big and cold and full of wolves It’s icy, and a fight to live through midwinter It’s freezing, I know, but that’s how life can be And once I didn’t even have that and I was bitter

But guess what? I found it here

I found life here

In the lovely Beobyra…

Pleasant, light conversation flowed easily between them. Razz lied on his back on the couch next to Blueberry. He was almost purring as the other’s hand stroked his head. He was very good at this. Knew exactly how and where to press. Blueberry could probably become a masseur if someone would give him the chance. As he thought that, the beginning of a thought took form, but he couldn’t quite realize what it was. He shook it off.

They spoke about more fashion. About their lives, although both knew the other left a lot out. About sports. Blueberry seemed to enjoy listening to Razz tell him about glorious battles he had participated in, and watched. Razz truly enjoyed telling the other about them, so that worked out fine.

Just as he was telling Blueberry about how he’d almost lost a battle during a Royal Tournament and gotten eliminated (“IT WAS CLOSE, BUT JUST AS MY OPPONENT SWUNG DOWN THEIR SWORD TO DEFEAT ME, I SAW THE OPENING. I THREW MYSELF UNDER THE SWORD, ROLLED, STOOD AND-“) it knocked on the door. Razz fell quiet, turning his head toward it. Blueberry made a move to stand and go open it, but he shook his head. Blueberry stayed.

“COME IN,” he yelled instead. It immediately swung open, and the shape of the brothel’s owner appeared. Muffet was smiling. When was she not? The hand on his skull stilled for a moment before the stroking continued.

“Madame,” Blueberry greeted. His voice was soft and respectful. She didn’t acknowledge him as she grinned at Razz. His stomach squirmed at the gleeful expression on her face.

“You’ve got a visitor,” she said.

Before he could demand to get to know who it was, she stepped aside. Razz’s sockets widened. He felt his entire body freeze and his soul stilled momentarily. The hand on his skull stopped once again. He hardly noticed that, though, as he stared at the skeleton in the door. At the now very familiar leather coat, the wide grin, and the brightly burning crimson eyelights. Red.

Red raised his hand in a tiny wave. His shoulders were hunched and his grin awkward as he looked straight as Razz.

“hiya?”

#on a never resting sea #swapfell #underfell #underswap #sf sans #us sans #underfell muffet #us papyrus #uf sans #nrs pt. 16 #my writing #hey look who's back #about time huh

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