#hoo baby that was a lot of typing I'm not proofreading sorry I'll cry about my errors in the morning

[arcxnumvitae]

“I refuse to sit here and listen to this!” Iomhar’s voice rang out throughout the office, causing the king’s sharp glare to shoot towards him.

“Unless you would like all of Seelie to be privy to our conversation I would suggest you lower your volume.”

“Who would not be unable to hold their reaction based off of what they were hearing?” Hands planted on the king’s desk and Iomhar’s brows furrowed. “You would believe Sivel capable of doing something like that? Based only off of a rumor?”

“I do not know what Vasyri’s king is capable of,” in contrast to Iomhar’s fiery temperament, the king’s voice coolly slid in, “and that is precisely the problem. He is an enigma with a long past who is now intricately intertwined with our land, and its people.” The meaning in his words were clearly not long on Iomhar, who let out an aggravated huff. “Besides, I am not saying conclusively that he is or is not a danger, but I would prefer not to be surprised if he is.”

Suddenly, Iomhar began to pace the length of the room, a bundle of agitation that needed to have some sort of outlet. “So what have you called me here for? To warn me? My oath is still in place, had I learned of anything, I would have come to share it with you.”

“How much do you know about Sivel?”

Iomhar suddenly stopped in place. “Excuse me?”

“How much do you know about your lover?” The king repeated from his place at his desk, the stare of his two-toned eyes unnerving. 

“Sivel has always been straightforward and honest with me with whatever I have asked him.”

“But has he offered anything to you? How much of his past do you truly know?”

Drawing himself up with a huff, an indignant glare shone in his eyes. “Are you trying to get me to doubt Sivel--?”

“Do you know of Sivel’s reputation among the nations that have dealt with him? Since this rumor had been brought to my attention, I have been gathering what I could in order to learn more about him. Many consider him ruthless and cold-blooded, willing to do whatever it takes to crush his enemies underfoot.” 

His arms crossed before his chest and Iomhar scoffed. “More rumors. Being a ruler does not make one easily favored, something that I believed you would be well familiar with.”

“Possibly, yes, but this reputation spans several lands, all pointing back to some previous conflict. One where, apparently, King Sivel stopped at no lengths to crush those who fought against him, even if it meant involving innocents or family members. And now he crops up in Seelie, a gentry falling on his order?”

There was...so much to take in. Stunned, and yet still he stubbornly replied. “You already know what happened to that lord. Sivel wished for him to leave him alone, I handled it of my own volition.” Camhlaidh’s gaze was long and it was clear that the knowledge he had just shared was still racing its way through the gentry’s head. 

“I do not wish for Sivel to be the monster everything that I have heard of him now paints him to be. In fact, I would like to get to the truth of the matter so that I can put this all behind us.” 

Reaching to the side, the king’s fingers wrapped around a small empty glass bottle, stoppered with a cork, and brought it to him. Iomhar had noticed it upon first entering the room, and had wondered about its purpose. A small pop accompanied the removal of the cork. As he brought the bottle closer, a small, yellow flower sprouted from the wood of the king’s desk and Iomhar’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the familiar slender petals. He knew that flower...wait...

With an twist of his fingers, the king plucked the flower with his other hand and brought the bloom of the flower closer to the bottle. A few taps against the stamen and the flower’s delicate pollen, white like snow, fell into the bottle. 

Iomhar’s mouth was agape. “You jest, surely? There is no way that I will drug my lover!”

“A dramatic way to phrase it.” Now divested of its pollen, the flower wilted away in his fingers and Camhlaidh gently placed it down on his desk to reseal the bottle. A small layer of pollen shifted along the bottom of it, and he placed it back down on the desk. “It will merely lower his inhibitions and make him more susceptible to sharing. You already know that the effects are temporary and will not harm him.”

“You--!”

“Lord Mèinnearach.” The king’s voice cut through. “You know what my duty to my land and the safety of my people, of you, is. I must take every available precaution, and if said precaution involves this, then I must do it. You say that he has nothing to hide and is wholly innocent?” He slid the bottle across the desk in a scrape of wood against glass. “Then there is nothing to fear. Prove it once and for  all so we can all put this nonsense behind us and move on to more important things.”

Iomhar’s glower was irate, but soon his large hand closed over the glass with a clink from his stone fingers. He turned to leave, yet after having taken only a few steps away the king’s voice stopped him once more.

“I ask that you not share the details of this conversation with anyone, nor divulge the source of the pollen.”

A request, not an oath. Iomhar scoffed and let the heavy wooden door to the office swing shut behind him with a resounding thud.