Levi returned shortly wearing the outfit. He pulled the door closed behind him, but he was mostly focused on wrinkling his nose at the bracers on his arms. “I’m not used to these…” he muttered as he fidgeted with the ends. “Are they on right?” He squinted.
Fiori gave him a once over, mentally checking off all the items. He had his veil, the pants and shirt looked like they fit right, and all the embroidery was flawless. The only thing he'd messed up were the bracers. "No," he said, fighting back a smile. "Not at all. You messed up the clasps, see? They're on too lose." He took one of Levi's hands, straightening out his arm and getting the bracer fastened up right. "Feel better now?"
“They still feel weird, but I can get used to them now.” He looked at his other arm to see if his could fix the clasp on the one too. “It’s the silver. I would be able to get used to fabric quicker.” He sighed through his nose. “Are we ready to go, then?”
"Silver is traditional. The only reason I get to wear fabric is because I need mobility in the ring." Fiori took Levi's other hand, fixing up the bracer there as he spoke. "And I suppose we are, if you're ready to face my uncle."
“As ready as I ever can be,” he took in a breath to inwardly prepare himself. He had no idea what his uncle would be like, and that part made him anxious.
"He is not a bad man," Fiori said, but it sounded more like he was trying to remind himself than Levi. His uncle, his regent, his temporary superior with eyes like stone and fists like hammers; what would he do when he faced Fiori in the arena? "I will not let him hurt you."
Levi shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Those two comments sounded like they were oppositions of each other, but he took Fiori’s word for it. He swallowed nervously, “Alright.”
Fi nodded and then pushed the doors open, shutting them with a soft grunt once they were both out of the baths. "We will meet him in the arena, so he can bless me before the fights begin. After that, I will go down to the hold, and Cadmus will help you until the fights are over."
He nodded somberly, his mind still preoccupied with the thought of meeting Fiori’s uncle. He wasn’t sure why it made him so nervous. Perhaps he was fearful of his uncle having the same thoughts about slaves as the soldiers. “So we’re going to the arena now?”
"Yes." Fi didn't know if it was the anticipation or the dread keeping him quiet but either way, his lips were locked. He walked quickly, head high and shoulder squared, every inch the prince his people expected. All his sweetness slipped away as they neared the doors, the playful boy who braided Levi's hair cast away in favor of a fearsome mask.
The arena loomed large as they marched forward through flower-covered streets, all swooping arches and grimacing faces cut into the towering stone. The walk was short. Fi stayed quiet the entire time.
This was Levi’s first time out of the castle and on the streets. He looked around, gaping at the flowers and faces in the stone. He also watched Fiori, who seemed more remnant of the prince he met when he first arrived.
More people started to fill the street as Fi approached the entrance to the arena, trailing after them into the rows upon rows of seats surrounding a large empty oval– the place the fighters would be competing. Fi didn't spare a glance for it, leading Levi up to a shaded box where an aging man sat in a plush throne, two slaves fanning him.
He was not a small man by any measure, but his nephew still dwarfed him easily, though by the way he curled in on himself, it clearly wasn't by choice. His hair, once black, was starting to go grey. His eyes were black, more animal than man.
"Drakeling," he greeted, and Fi flinched even smaller. "What a… pleasure it is to see you back in time for the festival."
Levi stood slightly behind Fiori, staring at his uncle. His eyes darted from the man’s eyes, to his hair, stature, and the two slaves fanning him. So this was the king of his enemy country, the ones who his advisors and court spoke of. He shifted his weight from either foot again, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He would dare not say anything, something in his gut telling him that this man was more dangerous than Fiori. Especially since Fiori appeared nervous around him too.
"It is a pleasure to be back, uncle," Fi greeted softly, eyes downcast. His hands were behind his back, thumb rubbing over the scars on his fingers over and over. He seemed to shrink with his Uncle's full attention on him, eyes fixed firmly on the ground at his feet. "I am sorry I was not able to stay on the front lines for longer."
"I am too. It takes a certain kind of strength to plant your feet and hold your ground, a strength it appears you lack." His tone was dismissive and he turned to Levi. "You, come forward."
Levi’s expression twitched with all sorts of emotion, mostly anxiety and dread. It was a familiar feeling he had when first meeting Fiori. He swallowed his hesitation and obeyed, taking ginger steps forward. He kept his jaw set tensely, unsure where to look now that the man was closer, so he looked down and away.
Fiori's uncle grabbed him by the hair, pulling him forward just slowly enough that he could stumble along without getting hurt. "What a pretty little thing you are, Leviticus." He yanked his head up, looking him in the eyes. "You northerners so often are. How have you enjoyed the company of my nephew?"
Levi tensed even more than he already was. He swallowed again, staring Fiori’s uncle in the eyes, even if it made fear wave through his gut. “I-I Uh, suppose so.” He answered around the rock in his throat. What was he supposed to say to that? Either answer of yes or no could elicit negative reactions. And how did he know his name?
The man made a sound in the back of his throat and his eyes flicked up to Fiori, a sneer already crossing his face. as he yanked Levi sharply to the side. "Nephew, I had hoped you would've at least been able to teach this thing some manners."
Fiori flinched, eyes still glued to the ground. "He is well mannered, Uncle. I simply have not had time to teach him titles, the fault is not his." He turned to Levi, eyes apologetic though the rest of him was stony and cold. "You are to address him as your majesty, slave." He could barely push the word past his lips.
Levi breathily yelped as he was yanked by hair hair, instinctively reaching up his hand to the place on his head where it hurt. He stared at Fiori like a hunted, cornered animal, breathing in and out through his mouth. “Oh…” he replied shakily, his eyes returning to the uncle, “…Your majesty…” he closed his lips.
The regent gave Levi's hair another sharp yank, opening his mouth to speak, and Fi winced. His hand came forwad before he could stop himself, gripping his uncle's hand tightly to keep him from doing Levi any more damage. "Uncle, enough. He has done nothing wrong."
His uncle sneered, but when Fiori squeezed his hand tighter he let go of Levi's hair. "Fiori Misneach, you dare disobey your king?"
"You are not king for long, uncle." His voice wavered, but he squared his shoulders and finally met his eyes. "Bless my slave, bless me, and be silent."
Levi grimaced again, taking a step away from the regent to rub his scalp. He swayed from side to side, watching Fiori stand up to his uncle. His hands still shook, and he was still afraid, but it did feel good to have Fiori defend him.
The regent raised his hand sharply and Fi flinched, causing a cruel grin to spread across his lips. "All that talk and you're still the same little dragon you used to be, Fiori." He snapped at his slaves. One ran off quickly, returning with a bowl of crushed red powder. "Be careful to watch your tongue, Nephew. I am your king for now and you will obey me. You, slave, kneel."
Levi blinked, assuming Fiori’s uncle was talking to him, and not his other slaves. He hesitantly, awkwardly knelt onto the ground. Was this part of the blessing ritual? He hoped it was. He looked over at Fiori again.
Fi bit his lip and gave a small nod, almost imperceptible if you weren't paying attention. The regent took Levi's chin in his hands, forcing his chin up and then drawing a symbol on his face with the red powder. When he was done he dropped his hand and motioned for Fi to come forward, shoving him to his knees with to much force and roughly dragging his fingers across his nephew's forehead. "There. Now out of my sight, both of you."
Levi places his hand on the ground to help prop himself up and stand. He frowned at how Fiori’s uncle treated him. Even if they were family members, he saw no care in his interaction. He rubbed his chin with his other hand. Everyone just loved taking his chin, he noted thoughtfully. He couldn’t wait to get home, where his chin and hair would be left alone. He looked at Fiori for where to go next.