The Wildness Within

Necessary Explanations

Gwyn followed Augus with increasing reluctance once he realised what room they were heading towards, but Augus didn't pause or slow his steps. Either Gwyn wanted to know about this, or he didn't. In the meantime, he tried not to think about the increased well of power within him. A part of him wanted to go outside, experiment, and it simply wasn't safe. He couldn't test the limits of his power until he knew that it was safe enough, and until then, he'd just have to be careful. He'd already hurt Ash's wrist just by grabbing him.

He was physically stronger, and he'd always been strong for his species.

He was going to lose clients. He couldn't imagine any underfae who would feel safe enough around Court status or higher fae to let him do what he did professionally. He started in his profession primarily to help underfae who couldn't access more expensive forms of healthcare for the psyche, and who absolutely couldn't afford Mages or healers. It might be an unusual profession, but he knew it worked for the right people, and now those 'right people' wouldn't access him. Rumours would spread. His clientele would be limited from here on in, to the privileged.

His whole life had been constructed around – first and foremost – helping those who were like him. Except that he was no longer one of them, no matter how he felt on the inside. And he could quote the 'if you've been underfae, you'll always be underfae' saying as much as he wanted, it wouldn't work; a whole contingent of clients gone. They were the ones who needed him most, and the Raven Prince had cut them off with a smile on his face.

Augus stood by the door, watching Gwyn as he hesitantly walked in past him, and then closed the door quietly. At that, Gwyn's shoulders hunched and he whirled, staring at Augus warily, arms out like he was ready to attack.

'I've had a very long day,' Augus said, pushing other, more complicated thoughts aside, 'and I'm now Court status and we'd likely be close to evenly matched if you decided to take me on. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to be hurt. Get that through your thick skull.'

Gwyn looked around at all of Augus' tools of the trade on public display. The hooks for chains, and chains themselves. The whips and canes that could not be easily stowed in drawers, and the countless chests themselves, each containing a confection of items that Augus selected for different clients, as he saw fit. When Gwyn looked back at Augus, he had an expression on his face that was a combination of sceptical and fearful.

Augus walked across the room to a large, circular rug where he sometimes had clients kneel. It was plush, richly soft, and he knelt down and then rested his buttocks on his ankles. Gwyn noticed, and Augus beckoned him over. Gwyn tore his gaze away from a rack of whips slowly, started walking to Augus while his eyes were still glued to them.

But eventually Gwyn stood before him. He looked at Augus curiously, examining every aspect of his pose, and then finally sat down about two metres away and crossed his legs. He went back to looking around the room, eyes wide.

'Now,' Augus said, drawing Gwyn's attention, 'we need to have a talk, for this to...go well, I think. However, I know you don't often like talking, and sometimes you simply cannot. So, if at any point you need to stop, or you cannot talk anymore, I want you to – if you can – raise your fist for me like this.'

Augus clenched his left hand lightly, and raised it so that it was parallel to his shoulder. Gwyn watched, and Augus lowered his hand again.

'If you do that, I'll know that you've had enough, or that for whatever reason, you don't want to have anything to do with talking to me. That way I know you're not simply being silent or thinking something over, or thinking of what to say. Do you understand? Do you want to try it?'

'I...understand,' Gwyn said. He made the fist and raised it, mimicking Augus' movements, then lowered his hand and loosened it. 'I understand.'

Augus looked around the room himself and sighed. How to begin explaining what he did to a person who had only experienced anything connected to these tools negatively? He pursed his lips, and then had an idea.