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"My good Lord," Joshua begins, tone perfectly polite as he leans over to the prey he's pinned with a talon. "Choosing to be impolite in the presence of others is an invitation to respond in turn."
Dion doesn't know what to make of this. Neither does Terence to be fair, but as the new Emperor of Sanbreque it falls on him to do something about... well that .
(Neither Lady Jill, nor Clive seem surprised by this —Rosfield’s head in his hands notwithstanding- which says more about the nostalgic memory he had from their meeting at the Remembrance Ceremony, than anything else.)
He didn’t expect his triumphal return to Oriflamme to devolve into this type of bickering. There was bound to be some tension at this summit with The phoenix reveal at the successful Dominion coup, the unmasking of Cid the vicious as Clive Rosfied, and even Dion’s own recent ascension as Emperor.
That an Astrologer bought by Anabella was still alive and free to decry at the meeting despite the insurmountable proof on why Olivier was not a proper heir to the empire? Father had stripped him of his titles, and the spawn had revealed his fiendish nature. News of this nature traveled fast. For one of that traitress pawns to still think he could cow the Emperor apparent at his council table? That commotion he didn't expect. Nor that Joshua’s swift disarming reply in Dion’s defense would be followed by a biting steel.
A good Emperor shouldn't allow his subjects to be harmed thus —not even if he owed his success to the phoenix critical alliance during the coup. Much less should he be appreciative of the elegant quick draw of his dagger and the clean sound made as it pierced through the Astrologer's wrist and embedded cleanly on the marble table.
From this point, Dion can't see Joshua's face. By the look of abject terror in the Astrologer's face, he doesn't know if he wants to.
Especially now that he realizes the time Joshua and Jote took down the soldiers posted at his tent before going inside was the Phoenix being polite . He believed the younger man to be jesting when he said There was no door to knock, so we had to improvise to keep decorum as an explanation on why he did what he did. Apparently the Phoenix was sincere.
If he's a little hot under the collar, nobody should blame him. Any battle veteran worth their salt appreciates the beauty of a dangerous predator. Especially one as gorgeous and intelligent as Joshua.
"It is quite fortunate indeed that the mightiest weapon for man of your stature doesn't lie on his hands but lips," the Phoenix continues conversationally, either blithely ignoring the cries of pain, or delighting in them. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Terence shift slightly and dion berates himself mentally that he shouldn't be aroused by this. "An illustrious mind such as yours would know the perfect words to leave the current unpleasantness behind us."
Said Astrologer can barely make any other words aside from crying out in pain. Not that any of the people present can utter any other either —himself included.
The only one who seems unaffected by all of this is the Phoenix. In fact, with the lights filtering around them at the council veranda, Joshua looks radiant. Mesmerizing. Greagor embodied exacting justice on the sinner.
Or that might just be his unruly want speaking.
"I would advise expedience on your words my good lord," Joshua reminds softly "the wrist is a terribly delicate part of the body, many veins and tendons. If I tire of holding it in place one could bleed out quite easily."
He follows through, barely lifting the dagger before slowly pushing it back. "Choices "
Dion really ought to do something about it.
He's not being tortured, Bahamut chastises inside him with a rumble. That silly human besmirched us and drew first on our Phoenix. These are simply consequences.
That reasoning shouldn't make this much sense, nor should it make it fair. Yet many things had changed ever since he took the throne and soared the sky alongside the vermillion bird. Some of which he still had not shared with his lovers.
Many of which made it difficult to act appropriately. Just as was the case now.
Next to him Terence swallows slowly. Dion smiles in relief. At least these reactions and burning arousal at Phoenix's display isn't the product of being a Dominant. The way his second in command grips the hit of his sword has nothing to do with anger anymore.
"Phoenix, you do not prey on the elderly and the infirm," he interrupts, ever magnanimous to his subjects.
Said subject is neither infirm nor elderly, and yet looks at him desperation unable to bury the agony and humiliation. "My Lord, mercy!"
Dion narrows his eyes, and the Phoenix pushes the dagger further in.
"I apologize! Your Radiance! Please, have mercy of this lowly subject! Please! I know my mistakes, please have mercy!"
Dion blinks though the heady satisfaction, even if inside him Bahamut laughs. He didn't think he would like this.
Next to him, Terence coughs, a fetching blush dusting his cheekbones. "Your Radiance. Lord Gwenlyn has apologized, perhaps your Radiance could be merciful?"
"Blood is terribly difficult to clean from marble," he continues, yet Dion doesn't miss the slight shift of those brown eyes from Joshua to the table and back to him "we also need time to inspect the damages"
Dion smiles, a primal base hunger gnawing his insides. Terence quirks his lips in return. They are one and the same on this matter.
"Apologies accepted," he declares. "Phoenix that's enough, heal him up and let them go"
Joshua is quick with his healing as he is with his harming. Terence doesn’t even have to show the Astrologer to the fountain entrance as he runs away spooked. That might be a political inconvenience in the future. Except the other Sanbrequois nobles are very polite in their leave. He nods to Clive and Lady Jill as they pass.
There’s warning in the biting cold of Shiva. There’s resignation if Ifrti’s flame. There’s determination and hunger in Terence’s gaze as they both turn back to their guest leaning on the table.
They will inspect it, and discipline the Phoenix’s impolite attitude with a lack of decorum on their part. As they’ve done in the past, and he suspects, will do in the future. Wasn’t this how it all started, those moons ago? He and Terence exhorting intimate discipline on Joshua for his fast play in the tent?
There’s a speck of blood on the Phoenix’s lovely face, enhancing the beauty of those dangerous blue eyes. It calls back to bloody battlefields, of fire and wrath and nimble moves as Joshua kills enemies and bathes in their blood as a proper Lord of Life and Death would. There’s a faint smile as he cleans the dagger —and it still flors Dion, that a present given twenty odd years ago was still precious enough to be carried and used most lovingly- and eyebrow raised innocently
Dangerous gorgeous bird in need to be disciplined and controlled. The first time is always the charter course to weigh all the following encounters. As Lady Jote said, as he and Terence agreed, they would take responsibility.