Notes: Let's finish our little tea party, hmm?

Title:  Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Ch. 10, Pt. 2

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Chapter Ten, Part Two

Delicate Subjects

“So,” Hiram said after a moment. “Now that you’veexperienced some of my tragic past, tell me some of yours.”

Avery quirked a smile. “What makes you think I’ve got atragic past?”

“Oh, I can tell that sort of thing from the first second,”Hiram assured him. “Very insightful, me.”

“Indeed?”

“Absolutely.”

The smile only got broader, and Hiram was delighted torealize he’d found someone who was willing to play a bit—to indulge his sillyside, as it were. Phlox had no time for that sort of thing, and Esme oftenconfused silly with simple, which led to numerous her attempting to bat himabout the head and “knock some sense into him” with her rather dangerous paws.There was hope for Tilda, but still. He was used to being part of a group ofpeople who could joke with each other, poke and prod and jest without gettingtoo personal about it. He missed his friends. He missed Misha. Hells, he evenmissed Andy sometimes—no one could quite muster up an “I’m not going to let onhow impressed I am” face like his former lover.

Sure enough, Avery arched one eyebrow. “And what does atragic past look like, exactly?”

Hiram took advantage of the implicit invitation to look theother man up and down in a measuring manner. Avery Surrus had been attractiveat first glance—now he was downright captivating.

That said…

“It’s something in the face,” Hiram mused. “A certain twistof the brow, an expression on the edge of either a glower or a good cry, ifthere’s a sheen to the eyes. You can see it in the posture, too—slightlystooped, like the world is just a bit too heavy for those shoulders. It’s evidentin the color palette as well—blacks and grays and dark browns, perhaps theoccasional blue if the person is feeling particularly splashy on that day. Justone of these things would be inconclusive, but put them all together and youget…well.” He gestured at Avery. “Yourself.”

“Or you could have simply talked to Mistress Tate.”

“Oh, I absolutely did that as well,” Hiram said, and Averyactually laughed.

“And yet,” Avery said after a moment, “you yourself don’tfit the pattern you just described, and yet you can’t deny that you havesomething terribly tragic in your past.”

Hiram shrugged. “I live to defy expectation, and don’t thinkyou can change the subject so easily, young man.”

“Avery.” His blue eyes were very bright and very intent onHiram’s face. “I want you to call me Avery.”

For the first time in a long time, Hiram felt rather…well, enthralledwouldn’t be too strong a word. He’d felt desire for plenty of people, beforeand even after Andy had become his world, but desire was a fairly cheapcommodity. This, now? This was downright intriguing. “Avery.” He took asip of tea to avoid having to clear his throat. “Go on, then.”

“My story isn’t very exciting,” Avery said after a moment. “Inever knew my father, my mother died when I was young, I left town via anapprenticeship and finally fell in with a group who had use for my skills.”

“Mm. Thievery, I assume.”

The teasing light left Avery’s face. “Excuse me?”

Shit. “I don’t mean to accuse you of anythingspecific,” Hiram said quickly. “Only—I know what children who are experts at shimmyingdown chimneys often become, in cities at least. And I have no particular animusagainst thieves or rogues, either; everyone has to make a living, after all,and they tend to target people who have more than enough to live on. So…” Heshrugged. “It’s just a guess. Feel free to tell me how wrong I am.”

Avery stared at him in silence before abruptly sighing. “Youknow, you’re the first person in my experience to just outright say it likethat. I think a few others in town have wondered, maybe even suspected over theyears, but no one’s ever even implied such a thing before, much less said itstraight to my face.”

“Ah.” It was rather rude of Hiram, in that light.

“But you’re not wrong,” Avery went on, the stiffness leavinghis back as he relaxed once more. “I did learn the trade of a rogue, for atime.”

Hiram could picture it perfectly. Avery had a certainsinuousness about him, a confidence and steadiness that was both highlyattractive and indicative of strenuous training. “I bet you were good at it.”

He smiled. This was different from his earlier smile; therewas a challenge in it, a cheeky hint of wickedness that was utterly alluring.“I was,” he said before hiding his smile behind his teacup. “But I eventuallydecided to give it up and return home. And before you ask, Master Spindlestepis an old friend I originally made during my earliest wanderings, but the factthat he settled here after an accident stole his vision seemed like fatecalling me home after I decided to retire.”

“And you went into teaching.” Hiram whistledadmiringly. “Not exactly a profession that travels lock-step with the path ofthe rogue, is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Avery demurred. “After all, being ableto keep track of dozens of noisy, potentially dangerous individuals at once whilemaintaining your own internal quietude and focus is certainly shared betweenthem. And I can’t say I’ve never had call to pin a child’s sleeve to the deskusing their own quill, but I try not to trot that little trick out unlesssomeone’s really acting up.”

Hiram laughed as he pictured such a thing in his mind. “Idaresay they love you.”

Avery’s face softened. “I think some of them do. I certainlydidn’t expect to enjoy teaching as much as I do, but it’s…it’s a good fit forme. A path I’m grateful to be able to walk down, given…everything.”

Everything being his tragic past, but Hiram hadalready concluded that he wasn’t going to get any more details from Avery aboutthat today. It was fine. He’d pushed his luck as far as it could go, and hewouldn’t make his host uncomfortable. “We should all be so lucky.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Avery countered. “No matter what youwere doing before—and as long as we’re being honest, Hiram, I don’t believe fora second that you’ve spent decades of your life as a simple herbalist—you’vesettled into this role with great success, I’d say. Almost everyone in townspeaks well of you, particularly after last Market Day.”

Hiram scratched his jaw for a moment, needing thedistraction as he pictured the absolute scene he’d made in the temple.“We’ll see what they have to say after today’s fiasco,” he muttered.

“Who could speak ill of you after knowing what they now doabout your past?”

“To some, pain is nothing more than a doorway tomanipulation,” Hiram said.

Avery stared at him steadily. “Indeed,” he agreed. “Butyou’re clearly already on your guard. You won’t let them corner you any morethan I would.”

There was  a vaguenessto that phrasing that made Hiram wonder how Avery meant it. He chided himselffor his hopeful heart. You’ve had your great love; all your adventures arein the past. You’re meant to live a quiet and peaceful life now, and thatdoesn’t include brewing up a romance. Especially not with a man like this.A man with secrets. A man who was far more dangerous than he looked.

A man who saw through Hiram like crystal and pushed, ever sogently, against the façade until he was tempted to let it start falling away.

But he couldn’t. This was important, damn it. Hiram needed tolay low if he wanted to survive, if he wanted to be there for Misha someday. Hesmiled affably. “Thank you for the tea.”

Avery paused, then nodded, as though acknowledging thatcertain subjects had been taken off the table. “You’re welcome. Would you likeme to run you back to town?” Not back to Hiram’s house, but back to town. Hmm,perhaps Avery was just as reticent to allow himself the opportunity for romanceas Hiram was. Naturally, that made Hiram want to push.

Stop it. Take the out. “Thank you, I’d appreciateit.”

“Of course.” He took both their cups and set them on thescarred wooden counter by the washbasin, then headed for the door. “It willonly take me a moment to saddle Buttercup.”

Hiram grinned. “You named your mare Buttercup?”

“She came with the name,” Avery informed him airily. “And Ithink it suits her very well. She’s as sweet and delicate as a flower.”

“You’d expect a horse named Buttercup to be yellow, or atleast light tan. She’s uniformly brown.”

“I don’t have to sit here and listen to your imprecationsabout my horse’s name,” Avery said warningly, but he was smiling again. “She’sa perfect Buttercup.”

Hiram held up his hands in an assuaging manner. “Of courseshe is. I never said otherwise.”

“Nor should you.” Avery stepped outside and Hiram followed,moving away from the door as the other man locked it, then headed for thelittle stable. It was warmer now that it was later in the morning, and he shedhis cloak with a sense of mild relief. The sun soaked through the thin fabricof his shirt, a lovely rich red color that Master Spindlestep had assured himwould look well with his complexion, and Hiram closed his eyes and stretchedhis arms over his head for a moment, then gently rolled his neck from side toside until it cracked satisfyingly.

Thus relieved, he ambled a little farther down the pathuntil he had a clearer look at Gemmel’s Tower. The entire thing,transubstantiated…what a miraculous wonder. What a terrifying horror. Gemmelmust have been exceedingly assured of himself, and the fallout must have beenexceedingly final for Hiram to have never heard of such a place before. Perhapshe could ask some of the local dwarves about it, dig a bit deeper into thelegend. Not that he intended to go to such a place, but it wasn’t impossiblethat the tower could be a source of illness, and if it were close to awaterway…hmm. He might have to do some further investigation.

He absently smoothed his free hand over the small of hisback and down his hip, tapping at the side of his thigh with his fingers in anerrant rhythm as he considered his options. Dum-dum-dah-dahdahdahdah-dum-dum-dah—

“Hiram?”

He turned back to Avery, who was holding Buttercup’s leadand looking a bit poleaxed. “Ready to go, then?”

“Um, yes.”

“Wonderful.” He gestured to the horse. “After you, darling.”

Darling? Where did that come from? Better knock it off,he won’t—

Avery recovered his aplomb enough to wink. “Of course,dearest.”

Oh, Gods. This man was dangerous in more ways than one.Hiram wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to resist such charms.

He wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted to.