The Rose and the Azalea - Chapter Seven

• Posted by The Sunflower Manual May 20, 2018 - Filed in TSC: Long Story - #Harrow  #Sabina  #Rose/Azalea  - 1,174 views

  

   

   

  

   

   

   

   

  

  The Imperial Battlemage Zurin Arctus has reportedly taken down an entire fortress in minutes by explosively accelerating the growth of a climbing rose sprouting from a crack in the castle wall.
  

   

   

   

   

  

   

   

   

   

                  ‘How are the repairs for the south-western den going?’ I asked, feeling a headache begin to pound in tune with my pulse.

   

                  ‘Slow,’ Rhansan said in his dead voice. ‘It would proceed much quicker if we could hire an outside contractor.’

   

                  ‘It would also be more expensive,’ Denholm objected, his lips protruding outward, petulant, pouting. ‘With respect, Lady Flavana, our recent endeavours, first and foremost among them the peace settlement with the Iron-Tooths, have cost the family a great deal of coin. Our foot soldiers can double as labourers of our own. Let them do the construction work.’

   

                  ‘I can supply a dozen or so slaves right away,’ S’hni suggested, bouncing happily on the spot. ‘I wouldn’t even mind if you worked a couple of them to death, m’lady!’

   

                  Of course you wouldn’t. My temples were covered by my helmet, so I was – rather frustratingly – unable to rub them. I settled for shaking my head, which didn’t help at all.

   

                  ‘Well, that den is the only one we have in the south-west quarter. The people there might not be rich, but one often finds the most addicts among the poor, anyway. I’m sure your own records will show, Denholm, that that particular den is one of our most lucrative businesses. The sooner we get it back up and running, the sooner we start making that gold back,’ I said, resisting the urge to wince as my words boomed back at me, echoing underneath my heaume, and stung at my skull. ‘Unskilled labour would only drag things out. Father always had a few specialists listed in his books who’d cut him good deals. We could go to one of them.’

   

                  I pulled out my desk’s drawer and unfurled the list of connections that my father always kept around the Flavana Manor office. It had proven useful several times already.

   

                  ‘Let’s see here. Borgum’s Bricks, Harfmann Masonry, Merotim Stoneworks…’

   

                  Denholm grimaced with each firm that I mentioned.

   

                  ‘Problem?’ I growled, feeling my headache intensify. Come on, if we could just get the day over with already.

   

                  ‘Having any of those specialists take on the job would mean dumping tens of thousands of septims into this already costly disaster.’ Denholm looked as if the idea was causing him physical pain.

   

                  ‘What if we asked the Nords to pitch in? It was an Iron-Tooth… former Iron-Tooth who torched the den,’ S’hni suggested.

   

                  ‘Out of the question,’ I said immediately. ‘We paid Fjorn’s clan barely a month ago, asking them for money right now would weaken our image.’

   

                  ‘I could go and post a cheap open contract in the Cyrodiil Mason’s Guild this evening,’ Rhansan said. Denholm seemed slightly less pained by that idea.

   

                  I considered for a brief moment, then nodded. It was a skooma den, not a luxury suite. We didn’t need anything too fancy. ‘Fine. So long as whoever takes care of it gets it done quick and doesn’t knock the place down. If there’s nothing else…’

   

                  My three underbosses took the hint and Edwin showed them out of my office. As soon as I heard the mansion’s gates slam shut I plucked the helmet from my head and jammed my palms into my eyes, trying to ease the throbbing behind them.

   

                  ‘Ach…’ I mumbled. Edwin marched back into the room and I looked up. ‘Prepare the coach.’

   

                  ‘Seeing Azalea again?’

   

                  ‘Do you even need to ask?’ I said tiredly, raising a hand. ‘And I’ll hear no more about-’

   

                  ‘You do look like you need some rest,’ Edwin said. ‘A visit to the Bouquet could be good for you.’

   

                  I blinked. ‘Eh?’

   

                  ‘You seem much more relaxed… no, you seem happier whenever you come out of that bedroom, Lady Sabina,’ Edwin shrugged. ‘I still don’t much trust that boy-whore, but then, I don’t much trust anyone.’

   

                  ‘Glad you understand, old friend,’ I smiled, reaching around my back to take off my armour.

  
  

   

                  Azalea’s hands were not strong, but they were firm and their motions smooth. I tried my best not to cry out as his thumbs pressed into a particularly tight knot of muscles on the back of my neck. His fingers dug deeper, and the pain continued to build, along with a strange sort of pleasure.

   

                  When it became almost unbearable, there was a deep pop and the feeling of something loosening, and all of a sudden I felt the pressure bulging inside my skull spread throughout the veins on my body and dissipate like a morning mist. The relief was so great that I let out a shaky, breathless gasp.

   

                  Azalea giggled, moving his hands to my shoulders and soothing my flesh with a far gentler massage. ‘Wow. You must’ve been really pent up.’

   

                  ‘You have no idea,’ I said, enjoying the sensation of his skin on mine. Neither of us were wearing any overclothes.

   

                  ‘No?’ Azalea whispered teasingly, the single syllable dropping slightly and then lilting up into a sultry purr, his lips less than a quarter-inch from my ear.

   

                  I hissed and turned around sharply, taking him by his arms and pushing him down. He let out a delighted squeak as I grabbed his legs and lifted them onto my shoulders. The flesh on each slender limb was cool to the touch. I ran one hand down the inside of his soft thigh and felt him shiver against me.

   

                  ‘No,’ I grinned, slipping two fingers into my mouth and wetting them. ‘You have no idea at all.’

   

                  And so for the next thirty minutes, I showed him.

   

                  ‘Funny,’ I said, sucking on my fingers again when we were done. ‘It doesn’t taste like… well…’

   

                  Azalea was curled up sideways, cheeks flushed, biting his lower lip in the bashful expression that he wore every time we finished. ‘It sees… a lot of use, so I clean it as often as I… umm…’

   

                  ‘Oh, aren’t you just the cutest little thing,’ I growled, clambering over him again and nibbling on the groove between his neck and collarbone.

   

                  I played with him for a few more minutes, then left him lying in bed mewling and trembling as I stood and put my shirt back on. I’d paid for a full night in advance, and we still had hours left to kill. Should let him recover a bit first, and then we can get to the dancing. In the meantime… I licked my lips. I’m thirsty.

   

                  I went over to the dumbwaiter and wrote an order slip, sending it down to the kitchen for a bottle of Dupuis Pâle. Reds and whites were all well and good, but there was nothing like a good chilled rosé in the heat of summer.

   

                  When I turned back to the bed, Azalea was wrapping his Akaviri robes back around his body.

   

                  ‘Well, Miss Sabina,’ he beamed as he slipped his toes back into his salon slippers. ‘Whatever shall we do next?’

   

                  ‘Now we rest a bit,’ I sighed, sitting down on the bed. ‘Share a drink… and maybe some stories too, hmm? I want to hear how you came to work in this… place.’

   

                  Azalea brushed his hair behind his ear with his ring finger, a gesture he would make whenever he was feeling shy. ‘I’m… not that interesting, really-’

   

                  ‘I disagree,’ I said, patting a spot next to me. ‘Now come here...’

   

                  The dumbwaiter’s bell rang. ‘Hold that thought,’ I said, going over to the serving tray. The rosé had come with a bucket of ice water and two glasses. ‘Well, that was quick.’

   

                  I took the wine out of the bucket and uncorked it, filling the bedroom with a sweet, rich fragrance.

   

                  ‘A Dupuis vintage?’ Azalea tilted his head to one side curiously. ‘Such a luxury! I’ve always wanted to-’

   

                  ‘I’ll let you try it…’ I said, slinking closer to him and rubbing a finger over the rim of the bottle. ‘But only if you let me feed you.’

   

                  ‘Okay!’ And with that happy exclamation, he knelt, leant forward, and raised his face to me, opening his mouth.

   

                  I touched the moist lips of the bottle to his and slanted it just enough for a small sip of rosé, watching the tiny, delicate bump of his throat move up and down as he swallowed.

   

                  ‘Mmm,’ he said, his tongue sliding out to catch a dewdrop of pink wine on the corner of his mouth.

   

                  ‘Is it good?’ I teased, running a finger over his lips.

   

                  ‘Mmm,’ he said again, tickling me with a smile.

   

                  I took the bottle and poured myself a glass, then handed him one as well. ‘To luxuries,’ I said. Our drinks tinkled, and I raised the glass to my lips.

   

                  There was a startlingly loud crash as Azalea fumbled, dropping the glass. It shattered on the floor, spilling the rosé everywhere. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry- I- uhm… Oh, that’s strange…’

   

                  He blinked slowly, then brought his hands up to look at them. ‘I feel… numb… I-’

   

                  Winter found its way deep into my spine, driving all thoughts of pleasure and lust from my mind. Shit.

   

                  ‘I can’t… feel- my lips…’ He was slurring. He never slurred.

   

                  I was already moving, flinging the wine away from me and rushing towards him. Shit!

   

                  Azalea twisted and keeled over, clutching at his stomach with a strangled cry. Tremors rocked his body. Tears and drool ran from his face. Shit shit shit shit no!

   

                  ‘No, no, no,’ I said frantically, placing a hand under his jaw. His heart was going wild, the beats rapid and irregular. ‘No, damn it, come on, hang in there.’

   

                  ‘Hurts,’ Azalea sobbed, clutching at my hand with stiff fingers. My gut wrenched. ‘Oh gods oh gods it hurts…’

   

                  I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Losing my nerve wouldn’t help him here.

   

                  ‘All right,’ I muttered, running to open the door. ‘We need a healer.’

   

                  I placed one hand on Azalea’s back and another under his legs, then barged out of the bedroom. He was even lighter than I’d thought – it almost seemed as if he was made of air.

   

                  Edwin was waiting outside, wearing an expression of shock. ‘What-’

   

                  ‘Poison,’ I snapped. ‘We’ll discuss this later.’

   

                  ‘My lady, your trousers…’

   

                  I looked down. I was still only wearing my shirt, and my legs were fully exposed. ‘Never mind that,’ I said impatiently, then raised my voice as I ran out into the common area. ‘Healer! Is anyone here a healer? We need help!’

   

                  It took five agonising minutes before the panicked brothel staff finally found one, a balding, middle-aged man slightly shorter than me and seeming slightly drunk. He took a single look at Azalea and immediately sobered, reaching out with his hands as he peeled back his eyelids and took his pulse.

   

                  ‘Not good,’ the healer murmured as he put an ear to Azalea’s back, listening to his lungs. ‘Poisoned wine, you say? These muscle tremors… I have a general idea what poison this is, and I don’t know any healing spells with a deep enough effect to-’

   

                  ‘Can you help him or not?’ I yelled, growing more desperate by the second.

   

                  The healer looked up, his eyes sharpening. ‘I will try, of course,’ he said immediately. ‘My clinic is nearby. Bring him there, along with the bottle of wine.’

   

                  ‘Zelly…’

   

                  ‘Oh, no…’

   

                  ‘What happened?’

   

                  ‘He’s not dead, is he? He’s not dead!’

   

                  Hushed, worried whispers floated in the air as I carried Azalea out of the Bouquet. His fellow working boys and girls had formed a corridor around me, their hands to their mouths.

   

                  ‘Sa…bi-’ He could barely speak.

   

                  ‘Shh. Hush now. Everything will be all right.’ I tightened my grip around his petite frame, feeling a surge of determination fill my chest.

   

                  I said it, didn’t I? I’ll protect you!

  

   

  

  The azalea species most commonly grown in modern Tamriel all originated from Akavir, as Akaviri azaleas are evergreen - nowadays, such flowers are a popular symbol of eternal youth and beauty.
  

   

   

   

   

   

                   ‘“More information”,’ Master Haruka said glumly. ‘After near a month of deliberation, that’s all they could come up with?’

   

                  ‘That’s all they saw fit to share with us, perhaps,’ I suggested. ‘I’m sure the Empire and the Count’s court discussed a great deal of political matters.’

   

                  ‘Most likely just the officials, each trying to take for themselves the least amount of responsibility and the greatest amount of power and gold,’ Shi said. ‘One does wonder how the Imperial bureaucracy manages to get anything done at all.’

   

                  ‘More information…’ Sho tapped his chin. ‘Perhaps we will have to start putting some pressure on Sabina Flavana? She keeps nothing with her when she visits, so a tail, then? Infiltrating her household may prove difficult, however – I believe Flavana Manor is fortified with magical defences.’

   

                  ‘Does she look like she’ll be asking you for a house call any time soon?’ Haruka turned to me.

   

                  ‘No,’ I frowned. ‘She seems content so far just coming here to see me. Should I begin hinting at having me visit her instead?’

   

                  ‘Do that,’ Haruka said decisively. ‘Sabina Flavana remains our closest link to the inside of the organisation, and as she is the head of that organisation herself, she is our strongest link as well. We would do well to take advantage of this opportunity to gather more intelligence.’

   

                  ‘Understood,’ I said, and left the office. Shi and Sho proceeded to change out of their janitor outfits and into standard-issue Tsukikage tunics. Both of the twins pulled a cowl over their faces and belted a wakizashi onto their hips, then left the brothel through Haruka’s secret passage. They had a target of their own tonight; a corrupt fur trader near the north end of the city. No doubt we would be hearing about a tragic accident, or murder, or disappearance in the morning, and the immediate government ‘appropriation’ of that trader’s assets.

   

                  I watched a timepiece on the wall tick by until I heard the signature spoked wheels of her coach roll to a stop in front of the brothel. Her visits were becoming consistent; routine.

   

                  Excellent, I smiled.

  

   

                   ‘Funny’, Sabina said, suckling on her fingers. ‘It doesn’t taste like… well…’

   

                  Of course it doesn’t, I thought while making up some excuse about cleanliness. My mutated digestive system renders the large intestine practically redundant. I have not produced solid waste in the two years since Rendanshu.

   

                  My response seemed to arouse her again, and she tussled with me for approximately six more minutes before she got off me and wrote down an order to the kitchens for a rosé.

   

                  They sent the wine up abnormally quickly – the first sign something was off. Shi and Sho weren’t anywhere near the kitchens tonight.

   

                  I pretended to lean forward in curiosity, examining the bottle as Sabina took it out of the ice bucket. The bottle was a legitimate Dupuis, and unopened… but as she tilted it to the light I saw a very, very small hole in the cork, almost imperceptible due to the sponginess of the wood itself. Produced by some long, thin object. A needle? The cork was sealing itself already.

   

                  Sabina uncorked the wine, and in addition to the rich aroma of fermented grapes, I detected an undercurrent of… something heavy. I took a deeper sniff but couldn’t place the scent. As always, I found myself lamenting how far my sense of smell was from a Po’ Tun’s.

   

                  ‘A Dupuis vintage?’ I said, feigning interest. ‘Such a luxury! I’ve always wanted to-’

   

                  ‘I’ll let you try it, but only if you let me feed you…’

   

                  I tasted the pufferfish liver immediately as the first few drops of the wine touched my tongue. I slid the fluid around in my oral cavity for a second and managed to identify several other reagents, no doubt prepared by a skilled alchemist in order to speed up the absorption and subsequent effects of the tetrodotoxin. I swallowed, relieved that I had gone first. Sabina Flavana was tough, healthy and incredibly athletic, but even she would not survive a mouthful of this wine, and I needed her-

   

                  I needed her-

   

                  I needed her alive, because she was my best connection to the Flavana crime family. Nothing more, nothing less. I had no personal stake in this.

   

                  Sabina poured out two glasses of the rosé, handing me one, and I was momentarily stumped. The bottle was out of my reach, and it wouldn’t make sense for me to leap forward and snatch her drink, either. I saw only one way to stop her while still maintaining my cover, but doing so could complicate matters.

   

                  She raised her glass to her lips and I had no more time to consider, only to act. My immunity to poisons and diseases meant that I wouldn’t express any symptoms at all, but there was no reason I couldn’t do a passable imitation.

   

                  I dropped my glass. It shattered on the floor and I adopted a flustered tone, while also injecting the beginnings of a slur into my voice. One of the symptoms of tetrodotoxin poisoning was impaired speech. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry- I- uhm… Oh, that’s strange…’

   

                  I blinked slowly, then brought my hands up to look at them. Another symptom was lethargy and gradual paralysis. ‘I feel… numb… I-’

   

                  Sabina got up, realisation dawning on her face.

   

                  ‘I can’t… feel- my lips…’ I slurred as she rushed to my side as quickly as she could. Severe paraesthesia, indicative of nerve damage. Tetrodotoxin was a neurotoxin.

   

                  I contorted my torso and and my face, suggesting intense agony, and began clutching at my stomach to imitate the abdominal pains that would follow next. Hypersalivation was yet another symptom, so I expelled an ample amount of drool from the corners of my mouth.

   

                  ‘No, no, no, no, damn it, come on, hang in there,’ Sabina said frantically, placing a hand under my jaw. Concentrating, I forced my flow of myaku to accelerate at a nonuniform rate, creating an intense, irregular heartbeat.

   

                  ‘Hurts,’ I choked, grabbing for Sabina’s hand. Tamriellians often invoked vague deities as expressions, so I called upon them now. ‘Oh gods oh gods it hurts…’

   

                  The young head of the Flavanas remained impressively composed, reacting with the quick, steady judgement that must have landed her in her position in the first place. She picked me up with almost effortless ease and charged out of the bedroom, shouting for a healer.

   

                  I was less sure of my chances of fooling the healer. I no longer perspired naturally and there were also subtle abnormalities present in the structure of my skin and skeleton, which a learned and observant professional might be able to detect. I was going to have to rely on the urgency of the situation as a distraction.

   

                  With that in mind, I squirmed and convulsed under the healer’s hands as much as I could. It seemed to work. He performed a perfunctory examination, evidently determined the poison in question, and hurried out of the brothel along with Sabina and her bodyguard.

   

                  ‘Shh, hush now,’ Sabina soothed, rocking me in her arms as she carried me into her coach. ‘Everything will be all right.’

   

                  The horses neighed and set off, their driver whipping them into a frenzy. The healer was sitting outside next to him, giving directions to his clinic. Edwin Lysanders sat opposite his principal and me, staring straight at me with an inscrutable expression. Sabina laid my head on her lap, one hand stroking my hair as she glared forward, her proud, regal brow creased in worry.

   

                  Only then, as the carriage barrelled down the streets of Anvil, did I find myself beginning to wonder if I might have taken things a little too far.

   

                  As I performed a small, errant twitch of my neck, I jerked my head around to the window and saw them. Three lithe shadows, flickering past the torchlight on a nearby rooftop. They were moving in the same direction as us… away from the Bouquet.

   

                  They were not shinobi, I was sure enough of that. Their movements were efficient, but too slow, too rigid, lacking the grace and fluidity of any operative trained in Tsukikage, and no shinobi would ever willingly fling themselves into a light when trailing a target from a rooftop, no matter how briefly. No, not one of us… but someone in the same line of work.

   

                  I let my head sink back into Sabina’s lap, which was still bare. She hadn’t had time to put her trousers back on and her skin was pleasantly warm.

   

                  Lovely. Now I have rival assassins to deal with.