“You’re not eating.”
Orphen looked up from the meaty, spice-covered chef’s surprise or whatever it was his bibi had made toward his birthgiver, who sat across from him at the large dining room table. The elder Starstrider elf’s eyes seemed a little more sunken than they had the week previous, when Orphen had arrived for their customary week’s end dinner. He studied Sentria as he always did when they met, seeing the resemblance to his own face in their coloring. He saw more than he was certain Sentria wanted him to see, so he pretended he didn’t see the added sorrow that creased Sentria’s brow and lips, and looked back at his plate.
“I decided to become a vegetarian.” Orphen replied in a tone that was both teasing and serious.
A clatter came from the opposite end of the table. He looked up to see a look of pure shock on his bibi’s face, the man’s hand frozen halfway between plate and mouth, devoid of the fork that was now resting in the food that lay on his plate. For a moment, there was nothing but scandalized silence, and then Sentria calmly picked up the fork and his napkin and cleaned the splatter off his silk shirt and the fork itself before setting both aside and staring at his son from across the table.
“Please tell me you’re not serious.” Sentria asked, concern etched over every fiber of his being. Orphen wondered if the concern was for his health or for his sanity.
He picked up his fork and shoveled a mass of spicy meaty whatever-it-was into his mouth and chewed, allowing the flavors to roll over his tongue and down his throat to his stomach. Meeting his bibi’s eyes, Orphen replied, “Of course I’m not serious. I lie for a living; why do you always believe me?”
Sentria’s eyes narrowed as a scowl crossed his features. “Because you’re my auri, that’s why. Honestly, Orphen, why do you do these things to me? I’ve got enough to deal with without your antics giving me a heart attack or two.”
Orphen ate another bite to avoid answering for a while. He wanted to tell his bibi that it wasn’t going to be a heart attack or two that would do him in, but he refrained. Their relationship was already rocky as it was, and Orphen didn’t want to lose the little contact they did have because he was being a snarky bastard. He’d endured this for over three hundred years, and he could endure it a little longer. He swallowed and said, “I do these things to keep you on your toes, Bibi.”
Sentria scowled deeper. “I’ve told you before; you can lie to any and everyone else, but not to me. I deserve that much. Besides, I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it.”
Orphen doubted that, but he didn’t see the point of arguing. The whole point of these dinners was to spend quality time with each other and pretend the world outside Sentria’s house didn’t exist for a few hours or however long it took before they tired of each other’s presence. Orphen was certain that if he gave any sort of insubordinate lip to his birthgiver that Sentria didn’t like, he’d never be welcome here again.
Of course, how long ‘here’ would be a thing was anyone’s guess. He’d been watching his bibi’s steady decline for years now, and was always waiting with baited breath for the call, email, instant message, or whatever that would tell him his birthgiver was gone and could he please do something about the estate left behind.
They lapsed into silence as they always seemed to, the only sounds being their forks scraping against their plates and the tinkling of wine glasses. Orphen wasn’t even sure what to talk about now. He couldn’t just talk about work like he could the weather. He doubted his bibi would believe him anyway, that he got to travel here and there and yonder, doing things that promoted Aedolis agendas and making sure no one was undermining it. He doubted his bibi even wanted to know about his new partner, because every time he tried to bring up the subject, Sentria’s eyes would veil and Orphen knew he was listening but not listening, and so Orphen would swallow the words and endure the pain. He liked his job, even though he knew his birthgiver disapproved. It was a difficult job, a job that required plenty of compartmentalizing, and a job that limited his ability to connect easily with other people. He couldn’t be sure what part of him was genuine and what was fake anymore, but he endured that, too, because he didn’t have much of a choice. No one knew the real him, not even his birthgiver, and while Sentria hadn’t told him outright, Orphen was certain his bibi would prefer the son who followed orders and listened, and not the son who seemed to be a constant pain in the ass.
He supposed there was a perk to the job, though. He got to see things he might not otherwise see and do things he might not otherwise do and try things he might not otherwise try. And Bragi, his partner in all things, kept life amusing as well. For a dragon, Bragi was surprisingly talkative when he felt like being such, and was quite accommodating when it came to the things Orphen wanted to do. The dragon was often Orphen’s sounding board, so long as Orphen returned the favor.
“When are you leaving, auri?” Sentria asked when the silence grew too long. “Tomorrow?”
Orphen ran his thumb along the wineglass’s stem. “Yeah. It’s a long ride back. Don’t worry; I’ll be back for next week’s dinner.”
“If you aren’t, I think I’ll survive.”
“Bibi, the devil’s choir is singing to you,” Orphen said before he could stop himself, “so I’ll be back next week.”
Sentria scoffed. “Devil’s choir? That’s a new one. Where did you pick that up?”
Orphen winced and hoped his birthgiver hadn’t seen it. “It’s a local colloquialism from where I was last, before this current assignment, I mean. It means-“
“I’ve got a pretty good idea what it means, and it’s insulting.”
Orphen stared at Sentria for a long while, then lifted his shoulders in a shrug, as if his birthgiver’s response didn’t bother him. But it did, and he buried the bother and the hurt under all the other layers until it was just a cold, hard ball nestled amongst the other cold, hard balls of all the other feelings he’d repressed over the long years. “Picking up things like that is what makes the job fun. Besides, learning new things keeps me entertained, and it keeps Bragi entertained. Sorry I want to share things with you in the hopes of entertaining you.”
“Insulting and entertaining are hardly good bedfellows, auri. And what entertains your dragon doesn’t entertain me. Besides that, it’s a terrible colloquialism, and you shouldn’t go bandying about things you really have no grasp on. Do you have no respect?”
“No, not really.”
Sentria’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Orphen, you-“
“I give people respect when they deserve it, Bibi,” Orphen interrupted with a stony expression and tone, “and I give them respect when they’ve earned it from me. Besides that, who cares? It’s not like anyone is going to take offense, except you, I guess.”
Sentria sucked in a breath between his teeth. “You’re my auri, Orphen, before anything else. And this devil’s choir... I don’t care where you use it, but you’ll use it outside of my presence! Do I make myself clear?”
Orphen clenched his hands into fists as hot anger rose in him. He’d been alive for over three hundred years, and he wasn’t a child to be ordered around like he didn’t know which way was up! And yet, somehow, Sentria still managed to make him feel like he was small and insignificant. Pulling back his anger and biting his tongue, Orphen merely nodded.
“I didn’t hear you.”
“Yes, Bibi.”
Sentria nodded, his expression unwavering. “Besides which, I’m fine.”
It was a bold-faced lie and they both knew it. Orphen could see it in his birthgiver’s face, in his eyes. The devil’s choir was slowly wearing away Sentria’s will. It was singing a deadly mantra, and perhaps always had been, even when Orphen had been small and had been Sentria’s whole world. Maybe it hadn’t been as loud then as it was now, since back then Orphen had given Sentria something to do, someone to care for. But now that he was taking care of himself, and had been for a long time now, Sentria had nothing left.
They finished their meal in silence and Orphen helped his bibi clean up by washing and drying the dishes while the elder elf dealt with the leftovers and then their customary after-dinner drink. The silence between them felt incredibly oppressive to Orphen, but there was really nothing he could do about it except endure it. Because as long as the devil’s choir kept singing to Sentria, Sentria would keep listening and his resolve would wear away little by little until was nothing even his own auri could do to make him stay.
The irony was not lost on Orphen, who dealt with life and death every day. And he knew that, eventually, he would have to let go. Let go, and let life continue forward - because it would, sure as the sun rose and set every day - and carry on as he’d always done. Then he’d only have to hope that the devil’s choir wouldn’t start singing to him, too.
They shared their drink and spoke again at last but of inane things, such as the latest headlines in Haviah’s news circuit or the latest film or whatever happened to be of an innocent interest. Then Orphen took his leave, saying good night and promising to return at the next week’s end. Sentria gave the expected reply, promising to be there and bidding him to be safe. Orphen wished he could embrace his bibi, but Sentria had stopped allowing that the moment Orphen had left childhood behind. So, instead, Orphen smiled and inclined his head and left, heading away from the house that was no longer his home and back toward the hotel room he’d rented out for the weekend. Tomorrow, he would head back to Samariel and his home there, and his work there, and his partner there, and he would pretend everything was fine.
Because maybe if he endured it a little bit longer, and maybe if he believed it hard enough, it would come true.
