Completed Poison me, poison you. Aha~~ {Ninus}

[Ronan Dugal]

If the reason for them being so broken hadn't been three murderous thugs, the sight of the two men, each struggling with their wounds and weakness could have been humorous, when observed from the outside. But the banging in Ronan's head, in combination with the black and blue chin and the variety of colors that was spreading over his side and hip were all but humorous to Ronan. He grunted as he tried to roll over to look at Ninus, which put weight on his wounded side. With a curse, Ronan rolled back on his back and stared at the ceiling. "Your rat was indeed quite a fighter. I think you and I could learn something from her." Ronan couldn't help the smile, even though the motion made his chin hurt once more. Hearing that the healer was coming was the second best news Ronan had heard today. His head kept banging and robbed him of most of his sense and mind, giving him barely any room to think. "Servant?" Ronan had to admit that he never knew the man's name. "First of all. What's your name? Secondly. Would you mind drawing us a warm bath after the doctor has left?" Ronan looked around with his limited field of vision, the black dots were still there, although less so than before. "Terrence, ser. And of course I can." He bowed from his position near the door and left the room to start a fire to heat the water. Ronan couldn't help another smile. How rude of him to not have known the man's name for so long. He was glad he knew it now. Not ten minutes after that, the doctor arrived at the door, which was opened, to his surprise, by the lady of the house herself, who guided him straight into the lobby room. "These are your patients, doctor." As the man walked over to Ronan, Ronan refused and pointed towards Ninus. "I believe that man needs your help more than I. Just a headache here, doctor." The doctor moved over to Ninus and asked him a few question, starting with his name and age and if he knew where he was. After that he asked where he was hurt. With his expert eyes, he looked over Ninus' wounds and decided to start with the obviously broken rib first.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus looked at the doctor. "I am in the home of a man who once lived inside a tree and was saved from her branches, treading upon this earth these five and twenty summers in the winter of discontent." Ninus told him, holding his side and speaking in shallow, quickened tones. He gently put Cricet aside, letting the rat curl up next to him as the doctor inspected his broken rib. "Snapped like a branch under the foot of a careless child." Ninus grunted in pain. "As my head was struck upon like a bell, and my mind screamed with all the tones of a church. My vision refuses to accompany me, yet dances and taunts me. Wicked, wicked eyes, why dost thou not still?" The poisoner shut his eyes tightly and attempted to stay upright. "Pray, bind the prison that holds my battered and untrustworthy heart. Time shall heal my bruised face." he told the doctor, looking over at Ronan. "My knight, my ser. A nobler fighter with platter and blade I have never before seen. Take pride in thine accomplishments, they are but fleeting to a knight so noble as to abstain from plate and ordered ranks. Rest easy, for none took back the message of their defeat, and who should find me other than the same one who sent them? Who then, would dare attack me here? Was it the man who imprisoned your dear friend in the arms of a wary and ancient mistress? Do you finally have an altar at which to lay the blame?" Ninus said quietly. He suspected it had been the same man who poisoned Turan who had sent the thugs to prevent him from healing them. "My lady, I lay an apology at your delicate feet. It was the same hand that sold the poison that cured him, and the same hand that punished me for curing that had done the deed." Ninus said to the lady of the home. "Would that I bear my tears to thine bosom and beg for forgiveness, this suspicious and evil rat. Would that I could take the pain of my accusation away with philter and begged words. But what the mouth sends it cannot retake."

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan listened as Ninus so vividly described his current state. The doctor gave Ronan a look of confusion but Ronan ignored it. The man would either get it or he wouldn't. Either way, Ronan's head was hurting too much for him to be able to explain any way. The doctor went with the hand on approach and poked and prodded Ninus in several ways, trying to determine the break of his rib. He tried a few times to have Ninus stand still and be quiet but the man seemed to ignore him just as everyone else seemed to do. With a soft sigh, the doctor started to unpack his tools, bandages and salves before he set to work on Ninus, who was talking to Ronan now. Ronan had no qualms with the three dead thugs in the kitchen. He had no problem with defending himself from bullies like them. But he didn't take pride in it either, no matter what it had achieved. He disliked being called a knight, as the word only reminded him of the men and women in Syliras who controlled everything. But he understood that Ninus didn't mean him as a Syliran knight but as a person of loyalty and virtue, like in the stories. He smiled as he managed to speak. "Ninus, I am not a fan of biting other men but I must admit it that you have mastered the art when you fought with those two. Your friend must be a good teacher." He groaned as his talking made his chin hurt even more. With a grunt, he pushed himself up from the sofa and sat up. "I have found a few altars indeed. But I have yet to find the correct one before I lay the blame." Like the three other listeners in the room, Ronan was equally surprised at Ninus' next words. But unlike the lady of the house, Ronan understood how the man worked, he understood the way trading went. Ninus hadn't hated Turan when he sold the poison to whoever had administered it. Ninus hadn't known who it was for and most likely hadn't cared. He was just interested in making the poison and making money off of it. If he was a proper merchant, at least. "Ninus, my friend, couldn't you have waited until we had healed before admitting that?" Although he had been surprised at the start, Ronan's words betrayed nothing of that. In fact, they sounded more like he had known all along, which wasn't the case. "Milady. You know he didn't mean anything by selling the poison. He has healed Turan of the poison so perhaps..." Ronan let the words linger. The lady just looked at Turan and turned away from him, leaving the room, quickly followed by the servant. After the doctor had finished with Turan, bandaging his ribs and taking a quick look at his other wounds, finding them to be not life threatening, the doctor moved over to Ronan. Besides the big bruise on his side and the bruise on his shoulder, Ronan had only suffered the one hit on his chin, which had been so devastating. The doctor applied some salve to his bruises and wrapped a bandage around his head, with some cooling salve applied to them, which almost immediately took effect. "You should rest for the next few days. No intense physical work either. Just lay down and sleep. The more you do, the faster you'll be out of bed." And with those words, the doctor left the suite, taking a moment to say goodbye to the lady of the house. "How about that bath then?" Ronan finally spoke, after a good ten minutes had passed since the doctor had left. The servant was probably heating the water already.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus looked at Ronan strangely. "My teeth were schooled by the lips of other men, their bites affectionate and ravishing. It took only strength to turn a gentle caress into a fiendish weapon." he told him. He winced and watched the doctor bandage his ribs. "What an unpleasant flower blooms upon my side." he grumbled at his bruise, slowly rising to his feet. He was getting less and less dizzy as time went on, and he felt well enough to get into a bathtub. He ached for a good hot bath; he hadn't had one in weeks. Much as rats were despised as dirty and filthy creatures, they actually enjoyed being quite clean. Ninus was much the same. He slowly went up the stairs, holding the handrail. Cricet nuzzled Ronan and bounded up after Ninus, who was following the part of him who wanted warm water to the bath. "Come, ser, or my hobbled and weary frame shall beat you to warmth and comfort." Ninus chuckled down at Ronan, wincing a little as his head was throbbing from ascending the stairs. He had to lean against the handrail heavily a few times, but he accomplished it. He stripped himself naked happily, studying the bandage before taking it off so he could replicate it. He settled into the hot water happily, resting his cheek on the side of the porcelain. He couldn't help but wonder how the lady of the house was taking the news, that he had made the poison that had felled Turan.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan made an attempt to rise from the sofa but he felt dizzy and had to sit back down. On his second attempt he went slowly, moved off the sofa first and then slowly rose until he was standing up properly on his feet. Everything hurt and ached as he walked after Ninus towards the stairs. He had accepted Ninus' explanation of his biting skills and had brushed it aside. What the man did below his sheets was up to him and it wasn't of any use to Ronan to complain or argue about it. As long as Ninus would do the job properly, Ronan had no right or use to interfere with his interests. The stairs were as much a battle to Ronan as the actual battle had been. Every step hurt his side as lifting his leg up hurt his side. Every step resonated through his entire body and into his skull, where it echoed on for several moments. Even the bandage around his head couldn't cool it down. With both hands on the railing, just in case, Ronan walked up after Ninus. "Watch me use your hobbled and weary frame as a dust cloth..." The chuckle that came down from Ninus mixed with Ronan's as both men slowly but surely managed to head up the stairs. Both men, both still so young, looked like two old veterans walking up the stairs, the way they were groaning and moaning while taking one step at a time on their way up. Upon entering the bathroom, Ninus and Ronan were greeted by a rare sight. Where people normally had a barrel and a bucket to wash themselves with, the slightly better off variety of Syliras citizens had accepted the trend of wooden bathtubs, big enough to sit in, to wash them. Turan, however, had gone the extra mile for his bathroom. In the middle of the room, a single porcelain bathtub stood. That in itself was already quite impressive and Ronan wondered how much the man had paid for it. The most surprising part, however, was not the porcelain but the size. This bathtub would fit two people, although they would have to pull their legs up. Or lie on top of each other. Ronan, like most lower class people in Mizahar, had no problem bathing with other people or sharing water and a room when doing so. Although his shoulder disagreed with the motions, Ronan managed to slip his clothes off. He groaned a few times but finally managed to slip his shirt off as well. Without his clothes, Ronan's beaten and battered skin was completely revealed. There were several scars on his torso alone. His upper arms, waist and upper legs hadn't been spared either. Only his face, lower arms and lower legs were unhurt, as if someone had deliberately aimed for the parts of the body that were not often seen. Although he was obviously wounded many times, none of the scars were horrible enough to take away from his natural beauty and charisma as Ronan stood naked in front of Ninus. "I hope you don't mind if I join you." Ronan smiled but immediately regretted doing so. His chin hurt when he did it. Holding onto the side of the tub, Ronan dipped a single toe in the water to determine the temperature. It felt nice on his body as it demanded more. Ronan stepped in the bath with Ninus and sat himself down, one arm hanging over each side of the bath as he let out a satisfied sigh as his head touched the cooler porcelain behind him.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus cracked open an eye, lifting his head from the tub. He drew back his slender legs close to his chest, watching Ronan. "The cleaning power here beats against a frame not often used to bathing." he warned. "I apologize." He looked about and found a bar of simple tallow soap and a rag, beginning to lather up his arms and shoulders. He moved slowly, every time his arm extended his ribs hurt anew. His eyes, however, were on Ronan. He couldn't help but feel desire wash over him, the scarred and marked body before him was the first he had seen in years. His particular desires, mixed with his occupation and living conditions, didn't provide much in the way of bedroom companionship. It was a strong, powerful urge, but he didn't dare act on it. He too bore scars, from men very opposed to that sort of feeling. The marks on Ronan also fascinated him. "I know the hand that has marked thee." he said softly as Ronan settled in the tub. "The hand that marked me as a youth for getting into places I was not wanted. I learned the love of a high branch and a thick trunk, to cradle me and preserve me from angry hands. The trees deep in the woods cannot listen to a boy, it were heaven I screamed my bootless cries to. Was it thine father, or mother, that striped your soul so?" He knew the question pressed a bit harshly upon Ronan's history, but Ninus had also been beaten. Growing up amongst rogues, his father and the poisoner who had taught him had been kind and somewhat understanding...but all rogues were brusque. His adoptive father had not hesitated, nor had any of the band, if Ninus stepped severely out of line. The wilds of Mizahar were dangerous and harsh, and could not afford the noise of a small child frightening deer and more human quarry away. Ninus washed his chest and face, splashing water on himself to wash the suds away. He was feeling a month of grime coming off with each stroke of the rag. He washed the cloth and wrung it out, hoping to make it a bit cleaner for Ronan, and handed it to him. He hissed as he leaned forward, his ribs protesting loudly. His nose however, flared to take in Ronan's scent, and for a moment he allowed himself to want. But he settled back against the porcelain. 'I am in control of me and mine. No knife from him shall I bear in my back, amongst the hilts of others with points aimed at my heart.' he reminded himself internally.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan shrugged as Ninus apologized for the current state of his body and its cleanliness. For a moment, a very vain moment, he wondered if Ninus, a man who loved men, felt anything for him. The thought popped into his mouth through the haze of heat and he quickly pushed it back under. That was not a very nice way of thinking. Ronan smiled over to Ninus as he saw the man looking at him. People usually did that when they first saw him naked. Although Ninus was probably the first person to see him completely naked like this in a setting that usually ended up in more... passionate bathing without there being any chance of it going there. "You like what you see?" Ronan smiled but immediately felt like an idiot for his remark. The fact that Ninus was spot on with his description of his scars only made it worse. Even now, he couldn't dislike the man for it. After what they had gone through, Ninus had earned quite a bit of respect from Ronan, partly due to his little friend. "I wish I could say I had a kinky bed partner..." He managed a small smile which disappeared as soon as he spoke again. "But it was my father who 'striped my soul so'. But there is no hate for him. It helped me to see the world from a different perspective. He taught me quite a bit, actually." Don't trust people, don't let them in, stick to yourself, don't bother with others, people who can't defend their own shouldn't complain if someone else takes it away from them. Things like that was what Ronan had learned from his father. And he had put it all to good use. Reaching out with his unbruised arm, Ronan took the cloth from Ninus and fished around for the soap. He rubbed it freely over his arms and chest, although he didn't touch his wounded shoulder. As he was far from being as dirty as Ninus, there was little to no dirt coming off of Ronan, except for what he had accumulated today in his search Ninus. It came off easily as Ronan rubbed over his body with the cloth, wringing out several times as he cleaned himself. While he was washing himself off, he wondered what made men like Ninus tick. And specifically, what made them want other men to share their bed with. Of course, he could understand seeing another man as handsome but to share your bed with one? That was too much to understand. "Why men?" He couldn't help it.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Did he like what he saw? The short answer was yes. Ninus took a deep breath and pulled his knees closer to his chest. It was a protective gesture, and one that made it very easy for him to flee the tub if necessary despite the pain in his ribs from contorting his body so. "A cruel question." Ninus told Ronan when he was asked if he liked what he saw. "Am I not human? Do I not live and breathe like other men?" He settled down and let Ronan speak of his father. A less than satisfactory explanation, but one that Ninus understood wholly. It seemed then they were brothers in abuse, with neither holding hatred for his abuser. Ninus still loved his roguish, all-male family, wherever they may be in the Mizaharan wilderness. Killed by knights, or a mark too ambitious. They were far from Ninus' thoughts when Ronan asked him his next question. "No songbird alights my thoughts, no chirping lacy thing attracts me. I touch them and feel nothing but the affection of a father for a daughter, or the friend for a friend. No fire warms my soul, nor bids me break free. It is a home without a hearth, cold and desolate with leaves upon the floor." Ninus said quietly. "Thou who asks me the hardest of questions, I have no answer. Only that no biting poison, no torture device, no knife ever designed has hurt me more. I once wished to cut it out as one does a cancer, to root it and burn it and curse the gods. But this yolk laid upon my shoulder I must bear alone, watching others of nature-blessed pair walk in happiness. But I, Ciciphys, the man bearing the gods' most cruel unseen gnosis, drag my burden alone. If thou would seek to mock me, I give no anger. Only to beg you to spare my desirous eyes your nakedness, for thou taunts me in the worst way." He rested his chin upon his knees, looking Ronan in the eyes. It had a dual purpose. First, to see his reaction...and secondly to see if he would have to flee. It was not fear, but caution.

[Ronan Dugal]

If Ronan thought his own feeling of stupidity was enough, he had it entirely wrong. Ninus' words were like knives through his heart. The man was right. And Ronan was an idiot. "I'm sorry. I didn't..." Ronan mumbled to his bath companion, his eyes downcast to his own knees. Of course he was human. And his desires and likes were his own. Ronan had no right to make a comment like that. He groaned as he shifted and his side stung him with pain. He would have to get used to that for the next few days at least. He pushed himself up so he was sitting properly as he listened to Ninus' answer to his last question. As usual his answer was not straightforward and Ronan's banging head did not really help with the translation of it. It basically came down to how it felt for him. Where Ronan was naturally attracted to beautiful women (and most beautiful women were naturally attracted to him), Ninus wasn't. Instead he felt attracted to men. Although he didn't seem to elaborate as to what type he preferred. Ronan let himself soak in the water as Ninus continued. He couldn't quite understand what he meant. Had he loved a woman once who had hurt him so much he had given up on all of them? Or had he loved a man so much that there had been no room left for women? But either way, it had ended badly for Ninus. Although he couldn't say why, he felt slightly insulted by Ninus' words. Why would Ronan mock the man for his choice? "I do not seek to mock you, Ninus. Nor do I condemn or despise you for your choices. It is who you are and I like it." Ronan did not move from his spot when he finally managed to translate Ninus' last words. So the man did enjoy what he saw. Ronan just smiled as his eyes caught the man's stare. There was no contest of wills as Ronan looked into Ninus' eyes. But even for Ronan the man's stare was too much and he was the first to break contact, dropping himself back against the bathtub, stirring the water and splashing it over the sides. In an obvious attempt to change the subject, Ronan spoke another question. "So? What do you do for fun, Ninus? Besides poisoning people?" He couldn't help the small grin.

[Ninus Aurellius]

The Prince of Rats Ninus saw Ronan break eye contact and was glad the subject was being left alone. He was young and still sorting out who he was. Getting such a rocky start in life hadn't helped with that at all. Nor had being raised among men whose definition of social interaction was using books as firelighters. He did relax when Ronan told him he didn't despise him for what he was. That in itself was a relief; he didn't have to worry about getting his head cracked again. He cleared his throat and brushed his wet hair back from his face, adjusting to the sudden change in subject matter. He still felt his skin burning for Ronan's touch, but this time he angrily shoved it down. Ronan was simply curious, beautiful and curious was a dangerous and tempting combination. Ninus slowly put his knees down. It hurt his side again, but not as much as it hurt keeping his knees pressed against his chest. "I speak to the rats." he said. "Rats are wise creatures, older than gods and more persistent. They have many things to teach one who is listening. Aside from caring for my lady and her brethren, I...confess I do not enjoy much out of life. Aside from procuring a new species of mold or spore by which I can fashion a new method of death or pain. I wish to read at times, yet the fear of the ones in plate keeps me far from any place of learning. Those walking machines, those castles in human form, bristle with blades and are eager to use them. They feed not on bread but blood. I fear them more than any man." He took the rag back from Ronan and began bathing himself again, a quiet sense of urgency to get out of the bath rising up. The former subject matter had made him eager to flee despite Ronan's proclamations of peace; he wasn't sure he could keep from touching the merchant if he stayed. He was feeling a blush creep up his throat as it was.