@quaggan
Lord Aleksander Saroian leaned his head into his hands and sighed as he stared down at the reports scattered across his desk.
He's getting bolder.
The vampire gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to sweep the papers off his desk, sitting back in his chair with a long, drawn-out sigh. He needed more information, someone who may have an insight, or would be able to get one-
The girl.
Well of course. It was obvious. Why hadn't he done this before?
Because she's only just arrived, she's scared, and you don't want to be a complete
asshole, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him. Ah, right. Of course. That was why.
He'd need to be delicate about this then. Perhaps...
Getting to his feet, Zander crossed to the door to his office and opened it a crack, leaning out to speak to one of the guards. "Fetch Sharrow for me, would you? Tell him to come as soon as he can."
"Again."
The elderly armsmaster gave a sigh and aimed with the bow. The arrow whizzed past Sharrow's ear, plinking off the stone wall. "You weren't aiming at me" the young man complained. "How am I supposed to learn to deflect arrows if they're not even flying at me?"
"Son," the old human sighed deeply "if I aimed at you, you'd be shot now and I would have to explain to Lord Saroian why there's perfectly drinkable blood being wasted on the floor. Look at this whole situation this way: if you are suddenly needed, you'd have to work while injured - that can't be good for... efficiency."
That was an argument Sharrow couldn't counter. The armsmaster was right - while keeping his skills sharp and learning new things was important, it was a secondary concern. "You're right, sir" he admitted. What should he do with himself then? Perhaps he could find an encyclopaedia of Hyoitian tundran plants - he's never been there, but if there ever was a need for him to visit the place, being acquainted with the local flora could be useful.
He headed for the door, but before he reached for the handle, he heard footsteps. It was probably just one of the guards - there was clinking of armour accompanying her stride, and she walked with ease of one accustomed to the place and her duties. Still, it was no excuse to lower his guard. He stepped away from the door and rested his hand on the hilt of a nearby weapon.
The door opened and no assault came. "Is Sharrow here?" the guard called. "Master Saroian wants to see him."
"I don't know why would anyone want to see that ugly mug of his" the old armsmaster commented. "I'd far prefer to stare at something pretty."
"I'm here" Sharrow responded, coming into view. He recognized her and it didn't look like an illusion, so it should be safe to follow her. He could hear the armsmaster sighing behind him, but he didn't care. If paranoia was the price he had to pay for efficiency, so be it. No matter how unlikely it was that some infiltrator managed to sneak into the castle, it was better to keep a watchful eye on his surroundings.
He followed the guard all the way to the office. She stayed outside, taking place at the door near the other guard. Sharrow knocked on the door, waited for permission to come, then entered and dropped to one knee in a show of respect.
Hmmm.
Zander eyed his vassal carefully over his desk.
Perhaps this will be more difficult than I thought...
"Sharrow, please stand." He smiled at the human, folding his hands beneath his chin. "I appreciate your adherence to duty and deference, but you don't have to do that every time you see me. Particularly if we are alone."
Despite himself, Zander held a certain amount of affection for the pickpocket he'd plucked off the street- perhaps not all that surprising, considering he'd practically raised the boy.
Which made this request all the more awkward.
"How have you been, my lad?" he asked as he stood from his chair, meandering around the desk to pick absently through a bookshelf. Debating how best to approach this subject. "Old Derclin says you've been training. Vigorously." He arched an eyebrow. "The man is fifty-seven years old, can't you give him a break?" he joked lightly.
Of course. He quickly picked himself up from the floor, arresting the reflex to dust his trousers. The cleaning staff was doing a good job, there was no need to to doubt their work. "My apologies" he responded. "The guard didn't tell me if you were alone." The possibility of some secret guest coming into the castle was low, but he preferred to be prepared.
Was this a hint of some kind? Perhaps a warning - the last thing he wanted was to overdo it the way the old armsmaster described. Perhaps he should focus on studying something less dangerous, like politics or poisons. Granted, most of those were not efficient against vampires, but the least he should do was to learn about it.
"I will do so, then" he agreed.
"Always so serious," Zander chuckled as he turned to face the younger man. He frowned a bit and strode forward to look Sharrow over. "Really, how are you? I haven't seen much of you these last few days."
His schedule was rather full, and he seemed to always be dealing with one minor crisis or another. It left little time to check in on his personal relationships.
"I've been... keeping myself busy" he admitted. Had he said the wrong thing again? He worked so hard to keep himself useful, capable of repaying even the slightest bit of grace that was shown to him. Perhaps rather than train his body, or educate his mind, he should turn his attention to etiquette and the art of speech.
"I've mostly been training, and learning whatever I can from the library" he added. "It's quite expansive, I'm impressed." He doubted that he could read everything in his lifetime - but this wouldn't be a factor to an immortal vampire.
"Sharrow." Zander smiled kindly as a laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder. It wasn't entirely clear if the knowing glint to his eyes was from some vampiric ability, or simply a result of how long he'd known the once-pickpocket. "You know I value your work," he said softly, giving his shoulder a quick, affectionate squeeze before he released him. "You needn't be so formal with me, so on edge."
It was a conversation they'd had at least a thousand times. Most days he would have stressed the point more, but unfortunately there just wasn't the time today.
"I'm afraid I must ask a favor of you," the vampire lord sighed. "Have you met the girl who came to us some days ago? Gwendolyn- tiny thing, red hair, temper like a cornered terrier?"
'Met' would be an understatement. Sharrow was aware that she has arrived to the castle, and did his best to sound the staff out. He avoided encountering her directly - he wanted to have plausible deniability, just in case. And it was an interesting exercise, to see how much could he discover without even seeing her once.
"I know that she's here" he replied. "I didn't meet with her, however. I assume you had a reason to bring her here?"
"I did. Though I'd be lying if I said I brought her." The vampire pursed his lips. "She...came to us, as a matter of fact. She is the first vampire Lorian has turned in quite some time, and she was seeking protection."
He sighed quietly- he'd explained who Lorian was in rather vague terms to Sharrow, but he knew that his vassal would understand at least that he was an enemy of the Council.
"She is, unsurprisingly, rather wary. She doesn't trust us. I need you to...convince her to."
He nodded, putting the pieces together. So she was another vampire progeny of Lorian - just like Lord Saroian was. Perhaps they should rename the High Council to Victims of Lorian Support Group, but he kept it to himself - the other lords and ladies might not share this sense of humour.
"Do we know why he turned her?" he asked. His suspicion led him to conjure various scenarios - what if she was a servant of Lorian, one sent here to assassinate the High Councillor, or sabotage his plans? "What do we even know about her?" Perhaps it was his task to learn all this information.
"Very little," Zander huffed. "And she is, rather understandably I suppose, wary of her own kind. I thought perhaps a friendly human face might help her open up." He raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Would you be comfortable doing that?"
The true shape of Lord Saroian's plan began to take shape in Sharrow's mind. There was no better proof of the values this High Council stood for than his existence here. If he couldn't convince the girl, it was doubtful that anyone else could. It was a task he was proud to undertake.
"It will be my honour" he began. Or was it too formal? "I mean, yes!"
Aleksander sighed quietly, relieved he didn't have to do too much convincing, and nodded to the younger man. "Thank you," he said with a quick smile. "She's staying in one of the guest rooms in the east wing. Perhaps you could attempt to invite her out? I believe she had a particular knack with horses, in her mortal life. Perhaps show her the stables?"
He nodded, slowly formulating a plan in his head. "That's a good idea, thank you. I will begin at it. Oh" he realized, "Does she have any power to detect lies or dishonesty?" He knew little - too little - about vampires and their abilities, but that was the foundation he needed to begin his work. It would be very shameful for him to fail because of a lie easily perceived.
Zander frowned. "She is young, and other than an ability to hear an increase in your heart rate, no, she should have no such gift. Though I do hope you won't need to lie to her."
Was there something wrong with lying? He wouldn't be telling lies to Lord Saroian, of course, but other people seemed fair game - as long as he could keep his stories straight. But if that one was to be an ally, perhaps building a long-term relationship on a false foundation was... unwise. "I was hoping for the opposite, actually." At least this was true. "My words would have additional weight if she had a means to confirm that they are true with her own power."
The vampire sighed quietly and shrugged. "Well, if nothing else she'll have the same ability to smell fear and hear a pulse as any of our kind. Perhaps your demeanor will convince her, more than anything else."
Did he make a mistake again? Was there a different approach he was expected to take? If wielding the lies and wielding the truth were equally frowned upon, what was the path he should take to achieve this result?
But he was getting ahead of himself. His priority was the success of this assignment, the method he chose was not as important. He doubted he had the luxury of picking and choosing at this stage. "Then, with your leave, I will be going. Unless there's something else I should know?"
Better to go now than to fuck up again.
"No, that's alright. Thank you for your service, Sharrow," Zander said with a small smile, clapping his vassal on the shoulder again. He was obviously tired, but there was some genuine affection in his eyes.
"There's no specific time limit on this particular...ah, mission, but the sooner you can get her to open up the better, no?"
"I will do my best" he promised. No, his best was not enough, as clearly evidenced. "I will succeed, I promise."
Upon leaving the office, he headed to the stables first. He was aware of roughly where the guest was housed - if only for information's sake - but he decided to act upon the small hint Lord Saroian provided.
"Which of the horses is the one our guest came on?" he asked one of the grooms. While he spent quite a long time in the castle and was familiar with it, it didn't quite extend to knowing all the horses.
"This beautiful percheron over there" the groom explained. "She's been quite feisty for the last few days. I think she wants to get out and get some exercise, but I don't think she'd let one of us ride her."
That was just perfect: not only did it provide him with an excuse to speak to Lord Saroian's guest, but also a way to invite her out to a ride in a way she was unlikely to refuse. Satisfied with his preparations, he finally headed to the guest chamber she was given. He hoped that she was there - Lord Saroian did not have a habit of imprisoning his guests, after all. He brought his hand up and knocked.
Gwen froze, one leg thrown over the window sill. She stared at the door, then quickly scramble down to stand in the room.
Well fuck.
"Uh, who's there?"
"My name is Sharrow, but I don't know if it tells you anything, and it doesn't even lend itself well to knock knock jokes" he sighed. He could hear some sounds from behind the door, so he decided to play it safe. "May I come in?" He liked the 'are you decent' line better, but didn't want to bet on their guest's morals.
"Yeah, um...sure." Gwen quickly darted toward the massive four poster bed she'd been giving to sleep in- seriously, what was with this place?- and jumped up to perch on the edge of the mattress, trying to look like she hadn't just been testing how easy it would be to make an escape out the window in an emergency.
Emboldened by his small success, Sharrow cautiously entered. The woman was sitting on the bed - perching on it would be a more apt description. Her narrowed eyes and tense posture brought to mind a comparison to a hunting predator, waiting to pounce on her unsuspecting prey. He did his best to put the idea out of his mind - after all, Lord Saroian didn't have the habit of starving his guests, and no human servants were attacked, so it was unlikely that she would pounce upon him to suck his blood.
His gaze flicked towards the open window. "If you were attempting to get some fresh air, may I suggest an alternative? Your horse has been quite energetic, the grooms think taking her out on a ride would be a good idea."
The fledgling blinked. That...was maybe not the last thing she'd expected, but it was very low on the list.
"Um...sure?" She couldn't really think of a reason to tell him no that wouldn't possibly offend her host. And while she wasn't sure she wanted to stay here, she wasn't sure she wanted to burn that bridge either.
She started to stand, then hesitated, scenting the air. "Oh." She blinked again, a little startled. "You're human?" She'd thought dhampir, maybe- she hadn't actually met a full human servant here yet.
"I am" he confirmed. There was little point lying to her, especially about that - she could smell the blood coursing through his veins with every breath she chose to take. She was eyeing him with suspicion - probably a well-warranted one, he would have assumed the same attitude in her place. "Are you thirsty?" he asked. He was about to suggest that they stop by one of the castle stores, but stopped himself. It was unknown whether she would be an ally, but she certainly wasn't one yet, and showing her what was where in the castle could be problematic.
She could probably sense his suspicion, and he knew they wouldn't get anywhere if they kept being on guard. He could make the first move. "Shall we go?" he began. "I can answer your questions, if you have any."
If she could have blushed, she would have. Scowling, the young vampire glanced away and muttered almost petulantly, "No."
She sighed and stood from the bed, shoulders hunched and eyes still flickering warily. "Look, let's just go to the stables, if that's where we're going. Not really much for small talk," she grumbled.
He nodded and turned around, opening the door and leaving through it. He hoped to hear her follow - according to Lord Saroian, she was newly turned, so perhaps she wouldn't be able to walk completely silently. Perhaps it would be smarter to just turn around and check, but from what little he saw of her, he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate being monitored.
That was another problem. Perhaps it would be hypocritical of him to find her attitude an inconvenience - should he find himself in a similar situation, he would have approached it from the same angle. Pressing at this point would only worsen the current state of affairs - she was to be an ally, the least he could do was to respect her boundaries. But he couldn't fail. He could only hope that a ride would put her in a better mood, one more suitable to having a discussion.
Gwen huffed quietly and followed the man at a safe distance, eyeing his back warily. Yep, definitely human.
Weird.
"What are you doing here?" she asked abruptly. "How'd you get mixed up in all this vampire nonsense."
How should he approach this situation? The vampire appeared to be highly cautious and independent, probbing her with inane questions would only make her dislike him. He should be patient, but he probably didn't have the time to just wait. He wanted achieve success, to finally be useful and- Oh. She was talking to him.
Most of the time, he'd react with suspicion - information was power, and while there was nothing in his past really worth hiding, he wasn't so arrogant as to think that a clever enemy wouldn't be able to find something damaging through his lack of caution. But Lord Saroian wanted her to be an ally, and Sharrow would never forgive himself if he turned her into an enemy instead.
"I was brought here by the master of this castle. In a way, I'm just a part of this place's staff - a human part. How about you?"
She snorted under her breath and looked away. "He brought you here? What, kidnapped you?" she asked, avoiding answering his own question.
He noticed that he didn't get an answer to his question, but it was good enough that he got a reply at all. "I wouldn't say, 'kidnapped'" he quickly followed up to amend his wording. "I can't recite the word's definition off the top of my head, but... It wasn't exactly unlawful, as I'm pretty sure all the Thanati government would do was to thank him for removing an Untouchable off their soil. And it wasn't against my will - not exactly. I might be a fool to just follow a stranger into the unknown, but the way I saw it, I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I know - human children aren't exactly the titans of intellect."
Gwen paused, her eyes widening a bit. "Wait-- you were a kid? And you just, what, decided to go willingly with a vampire, a monster?"
Did human kids change so much between those years? Or did she come from a place that was so different from the gutters? "What kind of a kid wouldn't go on an adventure with a cool person? I thought I had the opportunity of a lifetime. Is it so strange? I agree, I might have lacked... foresight back then, but I think I'm better off here than being caught by law enforcement, ending up in a gang, or starving on the street. Maybe I have unusually low standards, but I think I got a good deal."
"But-- but he's a vampire!" Gwen exclaimed, incredulous. "How could you just..."
She shook her head, exhaling sharply. "Madman," she muttered.
Sharrow chuckled. "I am glad that my life choices are at least amusing. And well, back then I didn't even know vampires existed, let alone what they were. And if I did, I doubt that would deter me. My thought process was pretty simple, 'hey, this guy looks rich, if I manage to steal something from him, I will get to eat for weeks'. This whole vampire stuff would go over my head. But I'm happy with the choice I've made, and I suppose this is what counts."
"So he doesn't..." She paused, debating how she should ask the question, then barreled on, "He doesn't feed on you or anything, does he?"
Ah yes, here was the question. He supposed he should expect it, it was coming since she realized he was a human. "Not from me" he responded. He would be fine with it - it was the least he could do, and it wasn't even such a huge sacrifice to make - blood was blood, it would regenerate. But he had a feeling that if he explained it, she would just give him a look and think he was even crazier. Best not to make a potential ally doubt his sanity even more.
"I don't think I would have anything to fear anyway" he continued. "I never saw or heard of him feeding from someone who didn't agree to it."
Gwen huffed and dropped her eyes, falling silent again. She just didn't get these people.
"Alright, just-- whatever. Let's go to the stables if we're going."
Looked like what his rhetorics teacher called an 'agree to disagree' outcome. He supposed it was better than turning her completely away from the idea of an alliance, but it wasn't a success, either. He really should work harder - this morning was just full of failures. If that kept up, she would just hop on her horse, flee, and never be seen again.
He couldn't afford to dwell on his failures when he still had an assignment to complete. He led her through the courtyard to the stables. "I believe your horse is... over there."
Gwen caught sight of the mare easily, and visibly relaxed. She moved toward the animal, clucking low in her throat, and the horse lifted her head and huffed at her in a friendly sort of way.
"Hey, pretty girl," she murmured, stroking the massive creature's neck.
Sharrow decided to give her some space with her horse. Was she the kind of person who got along with animals better than people? If so, he should introduce her to the cook's fat cat... or perhaps she was just in a castle full of strangers, and this horse was the closest actual thing she had to a friend. Either way, he should give them some space - and not just because he needed to saddle his own.
One groom finally decided to take some mercy on him and help, another approached Gwen. "I'm glad you're taking her out on a ride - she's so antsy, I was worried she might just kick down the door and charge away!"
"She can be like that," Gwen replied absently, stroking the horse's neck and letting her nuzzle into her shoulder. She glanced toward the doors of the stable.
"You could probably keep her outside, if you lot have a paddock. She doesn't like being cooped up in a stall all day, not used to it," she murmured as she stepped back, leading the horse out into the aisle.
"Easy, Teirna," she soothed when the Percheron tossed her head. "We're heading out to stretch your legs-- would you like that?"
"She won't leave if we do that?" Sharrow asked. "The stablemaster considered putting her in the paddock we have, but was worried about her breaking free." The last thing they wanted was to get on their guest's bad side by losing her horse.
Gwen shook her head. "She shouldn't. We've been together a while-- I'm her herd, she wouldn't go anywhere without me unless she had to."
"Must be nice to have friends" Sharrow remarked. He would have to tell the stablehands. Of course, there was always the possibility of a lie that he always tried to consider, but he doubted that it was the case. There was no benefit to lying in this case - all she could gain from it was losing a horse. He didn't like trust - trusting more than one person was dangerous, could lead to inevitable conflicts of interest. He didn't want to put himself in that situation.
"Shall I call stablehands, or do you prefer to saddle her yourself?" he asked. He didn't know the details of her journey here, he couldn't make assumptions about her skill with horses or lack thereof.
She shook her head as she backed up a step, the mare following right behind her. "I just need her bridle. I should go bareback, I haven't done it in a while and need to keep up the practice."
Sharrow nodded, waving one stablehand away. The other groom just finished saddling a horse for him. This was yet another craft that was alien to him - one he should probably learn. After all, he wouldn't always have Lord Saroian's people to hold his hand. And what if he wanted to pose as a stableboy to spy on someone? There was so much things he needed to know, and his one small mortal life was too short.
He led the horse outside the stable and cautiously climbed into the saddle. Maybe he should have done that inside, where there were footstools for him to use - his height was not an advantage when it came to riding. "There's mostly mountains around here, but we can take the road. This time of the year there shouldn't be any merchant caravans, so it should be fine."
OOC: Please let me know if you had in mind a better place to ride around!
She shrugged and nodded. "Alright. You know the area, I'll take your word for it."
The mare followed her as she moved to slip out of the stable, not needing a lead or a treat it seemed to stick beside the fledgling vampire.
Sharrow cautiously urged the horse forward, considering her words. If she didn't know the area, did she happen upon the castle by accident? Quite a fortunate coincidence. His mount slowed down, so he cast a glance behind him. Should he call the grooms or stablehands to help her get into a saddle? She didn't look like the kind who would need it, but it was better to ask forgiveness than permission.
"This way. There isn't a lot around the castle itself to ride around, but there is a road. Please follow me."
Gwen nodded, but rather than follow him on foot, she gripped a handful of her mount's mane and swung herself up onto the massive horse's back. The mare held still placidly as she did so, obviously unbothered.
Gwen couldn't help smiling, just a bit. Mounting such a tall animal from the ground would have been nearly impossible as a human; vampire strength came in handy once in a while.
"Alright, where to?" she asked her guide, patting the mare's neck absently.
He couldn't help but sneak a jealous glance as she easily swung herself onto the back of her horse. It wasn't just her height - Sharrow had really no complexes about being short, it was quite an advantage in some aspects that he was not willing to give up. But this awesome strength was something he couldn't just ignore. It was a quick, harsh reminder that to her, he was but a weak prey she could kill or maim without any effort. Without even any thought. What advantage was there to being mortal?
He shouldn't let that distract him. He was supposed to take her on a ride, not contemplate the mysteries of philosophy. He cautiously urged his horse forward. He could hear the clopping of Teirna's hooves against the stone - unlike his mount's, they were full of energy, as if she was trying to break the rock with every step.
The fledgling glanced back over her shoulder at her companion. "I don't know the area. Where exactly are we going?"
"It's not too far away" he began explaining. While the whole point of having a castle in the mountains was solitude and security, it couldn't be completely cut off from the outside world - especially since not every person in Lord Saroian's employ was human and could live without food.
"There is a road nearby that is sometimes used by merchants and travelers" he began explaining. Perhaps volunteering information would put her in a better mood and show a spirit of cooperation. Or perhaps not. "Lord Saroian has one of the staff act as a master of an old trading post there, to buy 'supplies' for running her place. Those supplies later are sent here to the castle. It's just behind this mountain. It's a better place for riding - mountains aren't exactly suitable terrain..."
Gwen shrugged. "Alright, guess we head that way." She clicked softly to Teirna, urging the mare into a steady trot as she followed the faint path away from the castle.
Sharrow led her over a winding, almost faint path. Back when he was first brought to the castle, he was very lost and couldn't even guess how people were even supposed to find their way to this fortress of solitude. The heightened senses of a vampire would probably come in handy, but he didn't have those at his disposal - he had to learn it the hard way. He put the unpleasant thought of their guest possibly finding her way here better than he, behind, and directed the horse forward.
They soon found their target: a small but well-maintained road that could allow passage to one merchant wagon at once at most. Still, it was more than enough for Sharrow and Gwen to ride side by side.
As they rode, Gwen found herself relaxing gradually more and more, and there were even a few moments when a small smile tugged at her lips.
"So." She glanced sidelong at Sharrow as they reached the main road. "You and the-- I dunno what he is, the lord? You...get along?"
"Lord Aleksander Saroian" he automatically responded. It wasn't like he was revealing critical information - she could learn that much from any other member of the castle staff. But that she didn't even know that begged quite a lot of questions. How did she find this place? How much did she know? Was she aware of the past between Lorian and Lord Saroian? Did she just try looking for any reasonably powerful vampire in hopes that they could protect her?
But it was rude to answer a question with a barely related question - if he wanted some responses, he would have to first give some of his own. He glanced at her - she looked more relaxed, riding really had a good effect on her. "Yes" he replied in the end. He didn't want to sound stingy with his words, so he quickly followed it up. "I'm loyal to him. He's-" he cut himself off before saying something stupid like 'he's shown me more kindness than any other person I've ever met'. All it would accomplish would be making her think even less of his standards.
"He's a good person" he finally said. Stupid. As if it would mean anything to her. No, he had to do better. "In all the time I've known him, he has always been an exemplar of virtue, both in his work and as much outside it as I've seen. That's what he's trying to achieve - to bring order to the vampire society and keep them from being the monsters most people think they are."
The fledgling vampire eyed him sidelong as he spoke, trying to glean as much as she could from what he said and what he didn't say.
"You like him," she noted, tilting her head slightly to the side. A rather disturbing thought struck her and she screwed up her face. "Oh gods, you're not like...together, are you?"
Whatever this Aleksander was doing for vampire-human relationships, if he was involved with someone he seemed to have practically raised she was out of here. Gods help her, she'd take the boy with her.
Was it some kind of psychological warfare? It was shameful to admit that it was working - just the mental image alone made him suddenly lose focus and stare blankly into space. "Why... How... No..." he finally managed to stutter out. "Is it- Do people or vampires even do this where you're from?! That's-" He had to pause to catch his breath. "Well, the answer couldn't be more negative if it was dropped under Hyoite's biggest glacier! Ugh... I will need to ask around the staff if they keep anything to get the image out of my mind." Doubtful. They weren't the kind to get high during work hours, but he had to try.
"Oh thank gods," Gwen sighed, evidently as relieved to hear the answer as Sharrow was baffled and embarrassed to give it. Wrinkling up her nose, she added in a dark mutter, "I'm not sure about other vampires, but my sire... Yeah. He would have done something like that."
Even the thought of Lorian was enough to make her stomach turn. She looked away, already pale skin blanching a few shades.
Right.
He probably shouldn't have said that. Welcoming new allies shouldn't be done by reminding them of past horrors. Even if it did bring the conversation to the topic he was interested in. While Sharrow has not encountered the fabled Lorian before, he heard plenty of cautionary tales and stories about his depravity. Such tasteless actions probably weren't something Lorian would find as repulsive.
If all the other vampires she's met so far were Lorian and possibly his servants, no wonder she considered everyone to be just as monstrous. That would make his assignment more difficult, but perhaps he could pin his hopes on her intellect. "I won't ask you to give your trust just because I ask you to - but allow me to ask for your attention instead. You've lived in this castle for but a short time, but I hope it has been enough to show at least a few differences."
Gwen glanced sidelong at him, silent, lips pursed.
Then, after several long moments, she inclined her head to him slightly. "You're right," she admitted quietly as she turned her attention back to the path ahead of them. "This place is...different."
That was a relief to hear - not just because he got a little closer to achieving his objective. If she was amenable to reason, this meant he could use this method in the future, should there be need. He could handle people who weren't reasonable, of course - but it was always good to know what to use and what to avoid.
Time to press on. "But I won't expect you to act on a foundation as shaky as a few days' time. And while I cannot claim to know your specific moral code, the concerns you have raised so far, such as the nature of feeding on humans, and... vampire sires potentially abusing their progeny, I believe that those are in line with what Lord Saroian is trying to achieve. And, should you have any concerns regarding the ethics of our actions, I will make sure that they are heard." It was a promise he felt comfortable making - he knew that his master was dedicated to this course of action, and would want to hear from any potential ally.
Gwen was silent for several long moments more, twining her fingers absently through Teirna's mane.
"I...could stay. A while," she murmured eventually, sighing.
That was a success - a small one, but a success nevertheless. "Of course. Lord Saroian would want you to make an informed decision." This way was not just ethical, but also carried more practical benefits - it was better to have steadfast allies than temporary tools to use, then quickly dispose of before they learn the truth.
He should probably lay off for now - she seemed to be the type of a person that would only get frustrated, when pushed. "If there's something you need, or a question you'd like answered, feel free to make your request known to the castle staff. Or me." He probably qualified as castle staff, but it was better to make sure.
They were getting close to the split near the large boulder. It would be a stretch to call it a 'crossroads', but Sharrow's vocabulary, like everything else, was not enough. "The road will soon split" he finally worded it. "The left path is a dead end now - an avalanche a few months ago blocked it."
"And the right." She chuckled softly as the mare beneath her seemed to prance a bit, tossing her head. "Teirna needs to be let out a bit. Anywhere we can just...run?"
Sharrow thought about it. "Well, after the other path winds around the mountain over there, it should be straight and reasonably long for some time. If you just want to ride your friend uninterrupted and without need to turn too much, it should be fine. The road is narrow, but you appear to be a far better rider than I, and your horse probably knows what she's doing too. Or he."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "She," she chuckled gently. "Please tell me you at least know if your own horse is a mare or a gelding."
Her words were rather cutting, but something in her tone was...playful. And her crimson eyes were warm rather than steely, as they had been.
Sharrow made a mental note to learn more about horses. Being able to avoid the disdain of their new ally was enough of a motivation, but there was also a variation of more practical reasons. "This one... is a mare." As far as he knew, there were no salt-and-pepper geldings in the stable. That was a safe bet.
"You seem to be quite knowledgeable about horses" he observed.
"I should hope so," Gwen laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'm a--"
Her smile suddenly shrank, expression closing off slightly. "I...was a hostler. And a horse trainer, sometimes. Before. I've got a knack with them, I guess."
"That explains it... I noticed that the other horses weren't too fearful of you" he commented. Animals didn't like strangers, and some vampires spooked them - perhaps they had a strange smell to them. But nothing happened in the stables - maybe Gwen's expertise showed through.
"You don't have to spend all the time cooped up in your room" he pointed out. He felt like he was stating the obvious and was about to get sassed for being patronizing, but he was willing to take the risk. "I'm sure the staff at the stables would welcome your help. Most of the horses are somehow used to vampires, so they shouldn't panic at your presence."
"Mm." She dropped her eyes to watch her own fingers twining through Tierna's mane. "I...thought about it. I guess I just...was worried they'd be scared of me."
True, it would make sense for the horses in this particular castle to be used to vampires, but...she couldn't help worrying about it. She'd had her fair share of horses spook at her mere presence since she'd been turned, and each time it broke her heart a little.
"We can talk to the stablehands once we return" Sharrow offered. "They would probably know best which horses are most used to vampire presence." He probably shouldn't start by offering her Lord Saroian's favourite mount, but there was plenty of other animals who had time to get accustomed to whatever strangeness was spooking them. After all, this castle was filled with vampires. "And they had experience teaching them to stop being afraid, so perhaps they can offer you some advice."
Gwen nodded slowly. "Yeah... I noticed the horses here seem pretty relaxed about all the...vampire stuff."
Sharrow nodded. "It wouldn't make sense otherwise. I mean, while I'm not the only human working in the castle, our staff is a mix of all kinds, and it would be a problem if our animals panicked at vampire presence. And if it's the smell that causes the problem, I'd wager the entire castle is infused with it. But my human senses wouldn't be able to pick up on it."
If they were to be allies, he should aim to make Gwen more comfortable in the castle, and it looked like he made progress on that front. He didn't forget about his assignment, of course, and it looked like this was the best moment to steer the course of the conversation back onto the subject of Lorian. She mentioned him earlier, and while it wasn't in the pleasant circumstances, at least it meant she wasn't unwilling to talk about him. Now, he only had to bring it up...
"Was it different at your sire's place?" he asked. "Did he use animals that are better accustomed to vampires than horses?"
Gwen stiffened. For a long moment, it seemed as though she wasn't going to answer.
Then she released a quiet breath and shook her head. "No. He...created things. Creatures of blood magic and other dark sorcery."
For one second, Sharrow thought that he messed up and only made her more uncomfortable, but then she spoke. He kept his relief hidden - it would only make the situation more awkward if she noticed. He listened attentively, committing every word to memory. So Lorian was capable of creating beasts that would serve him? From what he heard about the vampire lord, making slaves from scratch suited him better than trying to get allies the hard way. Either way, creating life sounded very important, and he should probably share this information with Lord Saroian.
"Is this why you lef-" he quickly shut his mouth and swallowed his question. He shouldn't push his luck. "No, I shouldn't pry. I'm sorry."
She tensed up again. "There are a lot of reasons I left."
With a sharp click and a quick squeeze, she urged Teirna into a short canter, springing ahead of her riding companion.
Sharrow's first instinct was to pursue, but he knew better than just to act on any impulse he might have. He pushed too far, it was natural that she'd react poorly. It would probably be the best to give her her space - and hope that she didn't take this chance to flee, and that the promise of spending some quality time in the castle stables would bring her back. And if she was going to run away, he probably wouldn't be able to pursue her - not only was she a vampire, but a better rider anyway.
He should be glad to have at least gotten some information - as little time as he had to observe her, it was enough to recognize that she wasn't very comfortable with her situation, and her time with Lorian must have been very unpleasant. No wonder, considering the reputation the old vampire had. It would probably take time - time that she would probably be given. Lord Saroian was a kind and a patient person, after all - unless they were under time constraints, it was a safe bet to say that he wouldn't want Sharrow to press.
He carefully manoeuvred the horse back towards the castle. The stablehands were surprised to see him alone. "Scared her off, did you?" one sighed. "No wonder. You're cute, but the charm disappears the moment you open your mouth."
"Speaking of our guest, she is fond of horses" Sharrow began. "Since they do not usually reciprocate such feelings coming from vampires, she was naturally quite glad to hear that you managed to train ours not to panic at vampire presence. Please keep it in mind once she returns."
He left the stablehands chatting amiably about horses, training and other things that went over his head, but Gwen could probably discuss with them. He headed straight to the tower that housed Lord Saroian's office - he wanted to immediately report on his progress, as little as he had to say. He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
The lord of the manor heard his ward's footsteps from halfway down the hall, despite Sharrow's well-practiced stealth, but out of propriety he waited until the knock before he muttered, "Come in," without really bothering to glance up from the reports still strewn across his desk.
Sharrow entered, closing the door behind him. His gaze was immediately drawn to the papers on the desk, but didn't linger - while he could read writing turned the other way as well as mirrored, he didn't want to pry. If it was something Lord Saroian wanted him to know, he'd say so. Old habits of gathering information died hard.
He dropped to one knee and began speaking immediately. Lord Saroian was reading, so he probably wouldn't look up and give him the leave, it must be one of those situations where he was supposed to just give his report immediately. "I have achieved partial success. I've managed to discover that Lorian was making creatures from blood magic to serve them. She suggested that he might be doing it in order to acquire something that wouldn't avoid him, the way most animals react to vampires." From what he heard of the nefarious overlord, he wasn't the kind to care about servants' comfort, so it must have been driven by convenience, rather than consideration. "Rather than push for more information, I opted for backing off and not risking driving her away." It was something he believed Lord Saroian would approve of - vampire longevity had a way of making one partial to long-term gains rather than temporary short-term advantages. And the way he talked about the girl, it seemed like he wanted to make her an ally.
Alexander glanced up, then bit back a sigh. It seemed some habits were simply impossible to dissuade. "...Very well. Thank you for the report."
He tilted his head, resisting the urge to immediately look back to his paperwork. "What do you think of her, Sharrow?"
"She's understandably cautious and wary of people, especially vampires" he began. "Considering that her sire is Lorian, I don't find it surprising. Combined with he moral standards, it's easy to say that she isn't happy with being turned, and is probably painting all of her kind with the same brush due to lack of interaction with anyone else than her former master and his cronies. Because of this, and her... personal beliefs, I think she is a good fit for the Council."
As... concerned as he was with his human weakness, he couldn't help but notice how it worked in his favour this time. Because he was not a vampire, and he wasn't used as a blood bag, she was intrigued enough to speak to him - and his presence was proof of Lord Saroian's dedication to his beliefs. He would have to consider it in more detail later - it would be irresponsible to ignore facts.
"Hmm...none of that is surprising, I suppose." Alexander was quiet a moment, considering. When he spoke again, he almost seemed to be musing aloud, rather than asking a real question.
"Sharrow. Do you like her? That is...do you think you could get along?" An idea was forming, but he certainly didn't want to put his faithful ward in an awkward situation.
Sharrow blinked, surprised to hear this question. He quickly composed himself - for the principle only, of course, he wasn't as arrogant as to think that Lord Saroian wouldn't be able to pick up on it. He should take care to be more composed and not let his weakness show.
"I think it's too early to say" he confessed. Perhaps this wasn't the answer Lord Saroian expected, but Sharrow would give him nothing but the complete truth. He could lie to others, but not to him. "To like someone, one must first know them - and I can't claim to know her well enough. We only had one conversation, after all."
Hm. Perhaps he should rephrase the question.
"True enough," he responded after a moment of thought, "but what I was really asking-- well, would you object to spending more time with her?"
"I would not" he responded. "Quite the opposite, I think it's a good idea. Since I am human, I would not be hindered by her dislike of vampires. I think this particular... view can be altered, but that would take time. Therefore, it's best to assign someone like me. Is this my follow-up mission?"
Alexander considered a few moments, tapping his fingers on his desk. Eventually, he stood and crossed to the front of his desk.
"Yes...I believe it will be. But Sharrow..." He opened his mouth, hesitated, then sighed and shook his head, chuckling quietly. "Never mind."
Suspicion crept into Sharrow's mind, but he quashed it down. As much as he wanted to know, to ask for more, he knew better than to give his curiosity voice. If it was something he was not meant to know, then he would not seek it out.
"What should be my next course of action?" he inquired. "Should I wait in the stables for her to return, under some pretext? Or would that be too nosy and only push here away from our cause?"
Oh boy.
Quite despite himself, Zander chuckled. "Sharrow..." He smiled, leaning back against his desk. "Don't think of this as a mission, lad. She's-- she's scared. She's alone. She's wary. Just...make her feel welcome."
A chuckle wasn't exactly the kind of reaction he was expecting, but he said nothing. It was not his intention to play jester, but it was better to cause amusement than irritation. "I apologize if my phrasing was... ill-chosen. I intended no offence, and I will choose my words more carefully from now on." He couldn't help but notice that Lord Saroian didn't offer any advice he requested. Either he had no wisdom to offer, or it was to be a test of Sharrow's abilities, something he had to accomplish on his own. Both possibilities were... troubling.
It might not be a mission, but it was something Lord Saroian wanted him to do, so he would treat it with equal importance. He waited to be dismissed.
Zander bit his tongue, irritated with himself. He should have known the boy would take his words so literally.
With a soft sigh, he moved toward his vassal and clapped a hand gently on his shoulder. "You've nothing to apologize for, my lad. Just...talk to her. Try to be her friend. Gods know she probably needs one, after all she's been through."
Sharrow's body relaxed slightly at Lord Saroian's words. This was one assignment he never wanted to fail at. He would have to work hard to make the fledgling vampire comfortable in the castle.
He glanced back to Lord Saroian, just to make sure that there was nothing else he wanted to say. No, that looked like a dismissal, although he probably wouldn't get a clear verbal one. The old armsmaster was still fond of military terms and procedures, but it was not something his master shared.
Upon leaving, he glanced out of the window. He didn't see any horse coming in, so their guest was probably still on her ride. That gave him some time to consider his options. He would have to be careful. It wouldn't be the first time he had to befriend someone - it was a good way of gaining new assets and informants - but this time, he wouldn't get the advantage of being able to investigate his target-
No, perhaps he would. He would have to put in a request with the spies observing Lorian, and wait, but it was doable. They should probably be able to help - someone must have informed Lord Saroian about the fledgling vampire's existence, and volunteered information such as her connection to horses. That would take time, but he was confident in his ability not to scare her off until then.
For now, he headed back to the stables. She wasn't back from her ride yet - he could wait for her there. He immediately began asking questions to the staff - if he knew more about horses, he could engage her - and it was a worthy area to study as well. He wouldn't always have the luxury of all those stable boys to handle everything for him.
Gwen stayed out on her ride as long as she could feasibly manage. When she finally turned her mare back to the fortress, back to the stables, she was surprised to see Lord Saroian's ward waiting.
Surprised, and not sure if she was pleased or irritated.
"I thought you didn't spend much time in the stables," she commented shortly as she swung into a graceful dismount, leading Teirna into a stall so she could groom her.
Sharrow inspected the vampire quickly. She didn't look displeased to see him - that was good, if she had had enough of him, he would have to leave. Pushing and prying was never a good approach to take, especially with someone so distrustful. If she wanted him gone, he would have to leave and try again another day - or perhaps even later. There was a saying one of his tutors liked to repeat, "Trust takes a lifetime to build, but a second to break". It could be applied here.
"I didn't" he admitted. It was true - he rarely visited the place before. "That's why I'm here now. It's a gap in my knowledge that should be filled. I don't feel comfortable passing up on learning something useful."
"Oh." Gwen blinked. She patted Teirna's neck for a few moments, then offered cautiously, "You, uh...you want me to show you?"
Sharrow nodded. "Yes, please." This would be perfect - he'd be killing two birds with one stone. Lord Saroian made it clear that the fledgling vampire didn't have an ability to read minds, but people frequently had gifts that couldn't qualify as such, and gave them an edge against artifice anyway. It was good to have some genuine interest and desire to learn on his part, just in case she could pick up on it.
The fledgling vampire blinked again, then shrugged. "Alright. We can start with grooming then. Grab a brush."
She gestured carelessly toward a basket of grooming supplies hanging by a nail on the far wall of the stable, turning her attention back to her horse.
Sharrow didn't even think twice, let alone complain about the act. He trusted in her ability - she had more skill with horses than he, it was clear. Grooming might not have been what came to his mind at the thought of riding, but it was an important part of handling horses, and something he probably should learn. He wouldn't always have an access to the stable full of staff to do it for him. If he ever had to pretend to be a groom during one of his infiltrations, he had to know what he was doing.
He headed for the basket she indicated. As soon as he pushed the lid off, the first problem presented itself. There was quite a variety of brushes of different shapes, textures and lengths - and he had no idea how to tell them apart. He thought of asking Gwen, but he probably wouldn't be able to understand professional lingo anyway. He picked the whole basket and carried it back to where the vampire stayed.
Gwen watched Sharrow with a kind of curious wariness-- and then rather abruptly she snorted, crimson eyes glinting with mirth when he carried the whole basket to her. Obviously, he had no idea what it was exactly that she wanted.
"A curry," she told him with another small laugh, and lifted her hand to show him the round, groove-bristled brush she held. "This is called a curry comb. Just brush in circles over her coat, it'll loosen up all the dust and dirt. And it's like a massage for the horse, they love it."
He proudly counted making her laugh as a success. His ego was never so bloated as to view someone laughing at him as an insult in the first place; and he wanted to make her comfortable therefore it was a step towards success.
"Curry? Like the dish?" he asked. He has never eaten it before - most Thanati had, but that didn't really apply to the Untouchables. He carefully approached the horse. Most of the time when he had to mount, there were grooms to assist, but if he were to ask the stablehands now, it would defeat the whole purpose of learning from Gwen. He could only hope that the horse wouldn't be spooked.
"You hear that?" he addressed the animal, as if it could understand him. He's caught some staff talking to them, so perhaps it wasn't too much off. "It's going to be pleasant, and I will do my best not to mess it up, so please stay still and do not kick the squishy mortal."
Tierna snorted, eyeing him warily, and Gwen laughed again. "Oh, don't mind him. I won't let him bother you," she assured the mare with a pat.
Looking to Sharrow again, she approached carefully and showed him how to slip his hand into the brush handle, then begin tracing circles over the grey's coat. "See? Easy."
Perhaps he should have read her willingness to let him near her horse as a sign of trust. He would not abuse it. He held the brush as instructed, trying to mimic her grip and movement. Carefully, he began to rub the brush in circles on the horse's fur... skin... ah right, they called it a coat. "Is there any special rule, such as only brushing in one direction?" he asked.
"Well, with this brush you move your hand in circles." She guided his hand, showing him what she meant. "With pretty much any other brush, you follow what we call the grain of the hair— the direction it grows."
After a few more moments, she stepped back and watched him work.
The assignment was rather simple, but Sharrow didn't allow himself to become complacent. One of his tutors kept repeating 'If there's a job worth doing, it's worth doing well' ad nauseum, and the human has never been the kind to half-ass anything. At first, it was a matter of survival, then a matter of principle. He paid close attention to the horse - if he did something wrong, he supposed Gwen would tell him, but any clues from the subject of his actions would not be as easy to read. "Is there any specific rule regarding brushing the mane?" he asked. At least he remembered this specific term and didn't make an idiot out of himself by calling it 'horse hair'.
"Oh, just yank a comb through it until you've worked out as many tangles as you can," Gwen replied carelessly. "I mean, try not to be deliberately harsh, but it's not quite the same as with human hair. It's not as sensitive, doesn't really hurt them if you tug on it a bit."
Teirna whuffed at the young woman as she crossed in front of her again, picking up her own brush so she could begin working over the mare's other flank. "Their tail though, that you have to be a bit more careful with," she continued as she brushed. "It's actually got bone for about a foot down into the hair, muscle and tendons and whatnot. If you tug on that, you're asking for a kick in the head."
Sharrow nodded, taking care to divide his attention reasonably equally between the the conversation and the brushing. The reply he received was less on the side of an expert's instruction and more on the side of common wisdom, to the point of making him feel a bit silly for making her spell out such a simple matter. The horse clearly didn't like that, although she was well-behaved enough not to take it on him - and thank the stars, he wouldn't be able to get away at that distance. Stupid human reflexes.
"Got it. Mane isn't sensitive, but a tail is" he repeated. In most animals, a tail was a very important limb that played a vital role in keeping the balance. "What function does a mane play in a horse's life anyway?"
Gwen laughed. "What function does your hair play?" she retorted, then shrugged. "It just is. Everything is built differently. We don't necessarily have to understand it all, do we?"
"Well, according to a renowned scholar, Highmaster Virtain, human ancestry can be traced to the Sionadyaki of Hyoite. In the tundra, body hair played an important role in keeping warm. The mixing of blood with alien influences such as the fae caused a change in physical characteristics, and the-" he paused. "Oh. Rhetorical question. Never mind. Well, some researchers have their theories - I could show you some of their books. I imagine it's a mystery that keeps some people up at night."
The hostler shook her head with a small snort of laughter. "Like I said-- we don't have to understand everything. I'm sure some people like the idea of that, but me?" She shrugged as she continued brushing, eyes going a little soft, poppy petals rather than jagged rubies. "Where's the fun in the world if you know everything?"
That was quite a... free-spirited attitude to take. Sharrow wondered whether her turning had influenced it, but quickly rejected the idea. It was too early - they called her a fledgling. And so far he only saw her expressing disapproval of her new situation - fixating on the negative aspects such as feeding, rather than taking in her new immortality. If she ever changed her mind, she would have all the time in the world to learn. A human like him was limited by the shortness of his lifespan.
He quickly put those thoughts out of his mind; he had plenty of practice doing so. He reminded himself that his view was very skewed; he was focused on the immortality while there were other aspects he was forgetting. And his knowledge was theoretical to begin with - he would never have the real view of vampirism, and perhaps if Lord Saroian wouldn't want him to turn, his staff agreed, and even Gwen missed being human, perhaps he should take the hint.
"Perhaps I'm trying too hard" he admitted. "Or putting too much effort into learning."
"Nah, I wouldn't say that." She shrugged again. "Some people need to learn. To understand as much as they can. They aren't happy otherwise." She switched to a hard-bristled brush, stroking soothing patterns over the mare's coat. "I'm just not one of those people."
Sharrow would have to remember that. He was glad that he didn't make a mistake here - one of the avenues of approach he was considering was to offer her more information on the vampire condition. But with Gwen's rather negative view of it, and her... lack of interest in learning, perhaps it would have only put her in a bad mood. His assessment of the situation changed - perhaps the best way to make her happy would be to try and recreate the conditions of her mortal life.
Horses were a start, but he suspected that there will be far more he would have to do to truly make her comfortable. Perhaps he was the only one who could - other vampires would probably put her on edge. "Well, if hearing about hairy Hyoite men doesn't make you happy, I don't know what would" he groaned with an exaggerated fake sigh. "Well, apart from horses. What else do you enjoy?"
Gwen "hmmm"ed noncommittally. "Dunno. Lots of things, I guess. Least they used to."
Her hand slowed, eyes losing their focus a bit. "It's...different, now. Things feel...more distant. I can't quite explain it."
It took no genius to deduce that perhaps the sudden transformation to vampire was behind the sudden life change and the distance. It was a delicate topic, and Sharrow would have to tread carefully in order not to alienate her. "While I probably can't know what you're going through, I remember some of the staff here talking about changes to their life after they were turned. Thance - he's not around right now, he was sent to get some supplies - used to be into cooking. Unfortunately, he really liked garlic, and was very upset about having to give it up. Just watch out for him - I'm sure he would just jump at the opportunity to lecture someone new about how blood is no replacement for garlic and try to rope you into some strange plant to get over it..."
She snorted softly and glanced at him over the mare's back. "You sure talk a lot for a servant," she noted.
By the way her eyes glittered, it seemed pretty clear that she thought this was a rather impressive character trait.
"I can shut up if that's a problem" he offered, casting a glance in her direction to better judge her reaction. She appeared to be more amused than indignant. "No? Well, I suppose it's not quite possible to talk an immortal to death - but do let me know once you've reached your limits of tolerating my chatter. I believe my verbosity might be explained by my, uh, unspecified status."
He walked around the horse to start brushing the other side. The animal snorted at him, tossing a tail in a nonchalant wave that almost hit Sharrow. Confused, he looked up. "Did I do something wrong, or is it just something horses do?"
Gwen laughed outright, shaking her head at him. "That's just something they do," she assured. "Y'know how you can kinda cock one hip out when you're at ease, or you twiddle your fingers or something? Same basic idea."
Teirna huffed softly and nuzzled Gwen's chest, earning a smile and a scratch at her poll.
Sharrow was glad that he didn't make an enemy out of a beast with heavy hooves and probably at least three times his weight. But there was a greater victory to be acknowledged. Gwen looked quite comfortable now, or perhaps the better wording would be 'in her element'. He was glad that he was told about her fondness for horses - it turned out to be the perfect approach to take.
"I think I saw horses using their tails to swat annoying flies too" he remembered. It probably wasn't a good moment to make a joke about mosquitoes being the vampires of insects. "Is snorting also one of those habits? I remember the white horse in the stall over there did it when I came here for the first time. He just gave me a look and snorted at me; and I wondered what did I do to make such a bad first impression."
Gwen laughed again; she couldn't help it. "He probably just had a fly near his nose. Or he was trying to get someone's attention." She gave Teirna's neck a fond pat as the mare shifted her weight between her back hooves. "Honestly, unless you're actively being mean to them or are...I dunno, carrying anger or frustration in some sort of way, horses typically don't give much thought to you."
Teirna nuzzled her shoulder and she smiled, twisting her head to kiss the animal's cheek. "They can tell your moods-- if you managed to make friends of them, they're loyal to a fault. If not..." She shrugged. "They typically couldn't care less about you."
"Sounds like they're more reasonable than a lot of humans I know" Sharrow admitted. They wouldn't care about things like caste, or who his parents were - just judge him on his own merit. "And that's quite an useful ability - sensing someone's mood would come in handy when watching out for temperamental cholerics who would take their frustration out on the environment.
Gwen and Teirna appeared to be really close - the previously suspicious and guarded fledgling looked so at ease and in high spirits now. The magic of good company, Sharrow supposed. She seemed to truly love horses - she must have been genuinely happy with her work. "How did you two meet?" he asked. Prying into her past was not wise, but this recollection should bring happy memories instead.
The fledgling vampire suddenly blushed-- or as much as she could, at any rate, her pale skin tinting just a bit toward pinkish.
"Well, I...sort of stole her," she admitted in a mumble, shuffling her feet.
That was not an answer Sharrow expected. He bit down on the further questions that bubbled up, summoning back his manners. He shouldn't stare, either - he didn't exactly see a lot of vampires blush. He knew that their skin could become more lifelike in tint and colour when supplied with blood of appropriate quality, but few bothered with keeping up mimicry when there was no victim for them to deceive. Perhaps it was the fledgling status that played a role in it - Gwen probably couldn't be expected to display mastery and control inherent to the ancient masters. She also seemed to be the type that would prefer not to relinquish what little she had left of her lost humanity.
He stared at the mare instead, who didn't seem all that concerned to have been stolen (or at least that's what he assumed, he was not so arrogant as to claim the ability to read horse body language at this point). "Well, Teirna doesn't look like she's complaining, so I assume she was an accomplice."
Gwen smiled a bit and patted the mare's shoulder, which earned her an affectionate nuzzle against her shoulder. "Well, sure, let's go with that," she chuckled quietly. Shrugging, she added, "I mean, it's not like she was doing much--just a cart horse, probably would've been worked into the ground in a few years."
Her brow furrowed in a frown for a moment, but then Teirna huffed a breath at her and she smiled again, returning to rubbing the brush over her dappled coat.
"A cart horse?" he blinked. He knew that horses were used for a variety of purposes, both as mounts and beasts of burden, even to the point of creating specific breeds better adjusted to a given tasks. "I wouldn't have guessed. She looks like a rideable sort."
A stablehand passing by chortled. "Oh, for Inima's- I can't even tell if it's a pathetic attempt at flattery or a pathetic attempt at sounding knowledgeable about horses."
Sharrow chuckled, not embarrassed at all about being made fun of. "Does it have to be either?"
Gwen couldn't help chuckling a bit herself, sparing the stablehand a quick, appraising sort of look as she did.
"Most horses are a "rideable sort"," she said to Sharrow with another small smile, crimson eyes glinting just a bit. "Just because they're plow-horses or carthorses or what-have-you doesn't mean you can't still ride them."
She patted Teirna's flank as the mare bobbed her head in what seemed like agreement. Rather abruptly, she moved around to Sharrow's side of the horse and placed her hand over his where he was brushing her. "Here. You can use a little more force, you're not going to hurt her--and you need a bit of elbow grease to get all the dust out of her coat."
Sharrow followed the advice, pressing harder on the horse's flank. She did not kick him or run away, so he took it as a sign of success. Another stablehand leaned against the wall and watched him work. "Nice job there, miss" she smiled at Gwen. "You'll make a proper worker out of this flesh bag yet!"
"That's a new one" Sharrow remarked, running the brush down Teirna's coat. "And not very indicative, if I may say so."
"You may not."
"Both of us are made out of flesh" he pointed out. "'Blood bag' would be more applicable, as I've heard many vampires and dhampires such as yourself use it, but it would imply that you're dangerously famished and about to attack me in a fit of ravenous hunger-"
"Trust me, kid, it's not hunger that makes me want to attack you..."
"Hey! Raina!" another stablehand called for her. "This dung won't shovel itself, and the longer you stay here chatting, the more it will stink!"
"Oh, thank the spirits" the girl sighed. "Dung is preferable company when compared with this smartass."
Sharrow raised a hand to wave at her back, but Teirna was having none of it. She snorted with disapproval, making him quickly return to brushing. "My bad. It was probably rude to focus my attention somewhere else."
Gwen had gone eerily silent. She didn't even seem to remember Sharrow's presence until Teirna shifted to butt her muzzle against him pointedly.
The fledgling let out a sharp breath, glancing after the other stable hand before returning her attention to the mare.
"...Why do you let them talk to you like that?"
"Talk to me like- oh" he realized. "I suppose it must have sounded bad to you. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking when I engaged in my usual banter with Raina."
How could he have been so thoughtless?! This wasn't just a conversation, it was an assignment from Lord Saroian himself! He told Sharrow to make Gwen feel more welcome here, to be her friend. To think that such a simple-sounding task would be beyond him! He failed despite the information given to him, didn't have the skill to take advantage of the circumstances, and now he's only made her feel worse!.
He doubted that he could still salvage the situation, but the least he could do was to explain, to the best of his ability. He owed Gwen that much. "Raina and I know each other. I'm on pretty good terms with everyone here in the castle. I have to, since I live here. I suppose our little chatter sounded really unpleasant, but none of us truly meant those words. We were just exchanging some playful barbs."
"Mmm." Gwen narrowed her eyes. She didn't look convinced. "Far as I can tell, they're all like that," she muttered after a moment. "They think they're...better than humans, somehow."
She didn't seem to realize that she was leaving herself out of "them" once again.
Sharrow's ears caught the lack of distinction. It seemed that, at least on some level, Gwen was still thinking of herself as human. It wasn't that uncommon among the newly turned to frequently forget their new state and still act human. It was relatively harmless, save for that one instance when Jean forgot the alchemical concoction that allowed her to go outside safely and almost got burned up in the sun. Words were safe in comparison.
It appeared that the fledgling's opinion of what was going on in the castle was rather... low. Sharrow suspected that he could talk and talk until his tongue fell out of his mouth from overuse, but that would only make her more suspicious. What should he do?
What would Lord Saroian have done?
"You're right" he acknowledged. "That's a really common attitude among vampires. But there are people who do not subscribe to it, and want change. I won't ask you to give your trust easily, but I would like to benefit from your knowledge. Most of the people here are old, and were turned a long time ago, they lack the freshness of your view. What do you think needs to be done to change it? What would you have me do?"
She shot a look at him over the mare's shoulder, then quickly turned her attention back to what she was doing--which happened to be brushing the same patch of hair over and over.
With a sigh, Gwen rocked back on one heel and propped a hand on her hip, brow furrowed. "Why are you asking me for advice? I'm--I'm just some fledgling. Hells, I'm not even really that properly!"
She shook her head and moved to put the brush away, frown deepening. "Look, I...I just don't belong here. I'm not like you--the others. Doesn't matter what I think."
So it didn't work. Again. Lord Saroian wanted him to build a rapport with her, to make her feel more at home, but all he's achieved was the exact opposite. No, he couldn't afford to get distracted by feeling sorry for himself. He had to press on. If his previous attempt failed, it was still a learning opportunity: now he knew what not to use.
He should play off her words, that was the basis of all communication. He suspected she lacked a place to belong in, and that spurred her flight. While some fledgling vampires managed to integrate back into their mortal lives, but that clearly was not an option - at least not here and now. What should he say? His eyes wandered to the horse - the only thread still tying Gwen to her past life, and one she was clearly very attached to. "Where would you say you belong, then?" he asked. "With Teirna?"
She shrugged, brow slightly furrowed as she seemed to be attempting to focus on the task before her.
"I don't know," she answered in a very small voice after a few moments. "She's not even mine, not really. I stole her."
Teirna whuffed a soft breath against the young woman's cheek and pressed her velvety muzzle against her, earning a very brief smile and a stroke along her neck. Sighing again, Gwen turned her head slightly to look at Sharrow out of the corner of her eye.
"Look, I--I appreciate you...talking to me and all, but what do you want, really?" No one else in the castle had made such a concerted effort to try to befriend her before--or whatever it was he was doing.
Teirna looked like she didn't mind being stolen - for all Sharrow knew, it could have been her idea to begin with. He could definitely imagine the horse following Gwen around doggedly until the fledgling relented and took her along.
He tensed up at her words, instinctively. Well, perhaps this was to be expected - his efforts had probably lacked in subtlety, and the circumstances did not favour him to begin with. Wary by nature or by learning, Gwen must have found his attention suspicious from the start. There was no use lying - her superior vampire senses would expose any attempt he could have mustered; and a proper relationship with an ally should not be built upon lies.
"Because this is what I do" he confessed. "It is my duty. Everything else is secondary. I won't lie, it's true that Lord Saroian regards you as a possible ally. But even if he hadn't, I would still do my utmost to make you more comfortable. Even if you were to get on Teirna right now and leave, never to be seen again, it would not have been time wasted. This is what I do."
Gwen shook her head slowly. "But why though?" she murmured, frowning. "I still don't get why you do all this for--for them. For Saroian, I guess. I mean..." She huffed, then admitted reluctantly, "I guess he doesn't seem awful, but he's still... He runs this place. He's never done anything you disagreed with, disapproved of?"
Sharrow stared at the horse brush for a while, as if avoiding the question. "The full story is long and boring, so I'll spare you the regret and just explain the basics. I suppose I should disclose at first that I've been raised by Lord Saroian for most of my life and owe him pretty much everything: my education, my freedom, it wouldn't even be an exaggeration to count my life as well. Everything I have that's worth having, I gained by his will."
"To answer your prior question; of course we don't always get along. He's refused to turn me time and again, for example." He seemed quite willing to disclose it, despite being aware that it would have won him no points.
Gwen nearly dropped her brush.
“You want to be turned?” she all but squawked, whirling on him so fast that Tierna jerked her head back in surprise. A combination of shock and something very much like fierce, angry indignation warred for dominance in the fledgling vampire’s eyes.
Sharrow was grateful for his honed reflexes, pretty much the only thing allowing him to stay composed whilst facing an angry vampire. Oh, he doubted that the fledgling would attack him - if she could force down an urge to assault him the moment they met and suck out his blood, she was unlikely to kill him now. The stable staff were glancing in their direction, but he was quite confident that he wasn't in any danger. He signalled them with one of the hands he kept behind his back.
"I do. As you surely recognize without a doubt, it has never gone beyond wanting." Lord Saroian was yet to change his mind, thus the boy hasn't asked other vampires at the castle. They wouldn't act against their master's wishes, and even though Sharrow didn't understand them, it was not a prerequisite for respect. He would not go behind his back.
The fledgling just gaped at him for a long moment, that war between baffled surprise and hot, fierce anger plain behind her eyes.
Then her expression closed off, became cold and impassive--incredibly vampiric, though she didn't seem to notice, and likely would not have appreciated it being pointed out.
"I see," she said coolly, returning her attention to Tierna. The mare shifted her weight between her back hooves a little anxiously, tossing her head and flickering her ears back toward her skull for a moment. "I wish you luck in your ambitions, Sharrow."
Without another word, Gwen all but threw the brush back into its little bucket, then turned sharply on her heel and swept out of the stables.