Disclaimer: So nope, none of this is mine, I make no claims to any of the Harry Potter characters or situations. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling and her associates and representatives. I like to play with them though, so I am—it's called enjoyment and entertainment. That means no money's been exchanged, nor do I intend to infringe on anybody's rights. The plot of this little ditty and original characters are mine though, yup who'd a thunk it but I do have an original idea every now and again. At the moment, I'm employing them in limited quantities.
A/N: Alright here goes the spiel… this story is now officially, really and truly SLASH! In other words there will be a little bit of boy on boy sturff in this chapter, nothing earth shattering but a bit more descriptive than anything I've posted before…slowly but surely, I'm trying to work my way up to the M rating I've claimed for this bit of fanfic. So-uh-if slash is not your thing or you're not supposed to be reading it because of your age or country or whatever, don't bother reading further.
And for the most part, any referenced languages or non-English words (that aren't Czech) are purely products of my imagination, unless noted otherwise. The italics key—italicised words indicate emphasis, italicised sentences indicate thoughts and italicised paragraphs represent written notes/letters. In general, that's how it's gonna go for the whole fic, but you're smart people I'm sure you'll figure out what's what.
And again, this is unbeta'd so please do free to point out errors in your feedback. sbkar, thank you for the comma usage advice. I tend to go comma heavy so I've been leaving them out of places I think they should be, I'll be more attentive to that and hopefully the readability will increase.
Lastly, thank you thank you thank you for leaving reviews. I like them lots and I have great fun reading your comments.
4.
Harry flopped back on the bed figuring he finally had a moment to take stock of his feelings and surroundings. He was still overwhelmed by the luxurious suite, but more important he realised, for the first time in a long while, he felt good! Not listless, not tired, not achy. The niggling feeling of needing to be somewhere, or find that missing something was sated. For the first time in weeks he felt he could sleep restfully, and was positive he'd be hungry later. Appetite had become a foreign word in the last month, and he was looking forward to being able to enjoy food again.
Sitting up, he decided he'd have a shower before he let himself sleep. He felt grimy from his flight, and to be honest, he hadn't been motivated to have a good clean in a while. He stood and stretched, enjoying the pops and cracks as his joints shifted, then strolled to the bath. He hadn't really looked around much while Etienne showed him each room. He'd been taken aback by the lavishness, but now he noted the smaller details he'd missed before. Of course, some details he couldn't have appreciated before. Now that he was barefoot, he was definitely appreciating that the slightly rough texture of the mossy green slate tiles meant he wouldn't slip if he suffered one of his occasional bouts of clumsiness. He also appreciated that the tiles were charmed warm. It was all very peaceful, beautiful, and serene in restful greens and warm copper.
The multi-coloured green onyx marble of the tub, shower and sink basins, with its broad swaths of heavy copper, rust, cream, yellow, and golden ivory and subtle patina brought all the room's elements and accessories together perfectly. And the tub was huge yes, enough for four people, but he'd missed the taps before. Much like in the Prefect's bath at Hogwarts, the sunken marble tub was surrounded by various hammered copper taps, and he was sure each released different types of bubbles and bath oils. The copper fixtures were repeated throughout the room from sconces that cast a soothing glow, to the multiple showerheads in the shower. The tub was tucked away behind a curving privacy screen of heavy mottled glass, and on the shelves of the glass wall, at varying heights were thick, fluffy white towels and what looked to be lotions and body oils. The screen's other shelves held candles of different heights and thicknesses that smelled of the delicate fragrance he'd remembered from the courtyard.
He thought a bath would be lovely, but he was tired, so he eschewed the bath for a shower. The enclosure was the same green onyx as the tub, though the door and the recessed nooks in enclosure were the same mottled bottle-green glass as the privacy screen. Harry stepped inside the enclosure and familiarised himself with the deliciously scented bath products that lined the various nooks, fiddled with the taps and showerheads, then lost himself in the bliss of hot water and steam for a good half hour.
After his shower he dried off, wrapped his towel round his waist, and went hunting for his pyjamas. He assumed his suitcase had been unpacked and that they'd be in one of the bureaus. He didn't get that far however—a pair of black silk pyjamas, shot through with very thin, leaf green pinstripes, waiting on the bed caught his eye before he'd reached the dark wood chests-of-drawers. A dressing gown of the same leaf green lay beside the pyjamas. His surprise was made complete by the tray laden with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a sealed note on the night table. He slipped into the pyjama bottoms; they felt wonderful against his skin, and slid between the fine linen sheets. He propped himself up on the fluffy pillows and sipped the hot chocolate as he read the brief note:
Welcome to The Citadel and the Kynaston Intended,
Hot chocolate has always helped ease me into peaceful slumber.
I hope you will rest well with pleasant dreams.
My regards,
D.
He pondered the note a while, deciding finally it was a thoughtful gesture and a personal one, which he appreciated. He still wasn't sure about the whole Intended business, or being courted at the same time as six other people. But for now he was willing to go along. He hadn't given much thought to what would happen if he actually responded well to the High Lord. The odds that he'd end up as some vampire lord's husband were laughable.
Granted, he didn't have much (or any) experience in matters of the heart beyond adolescent fumbling, but he was marginally hopeful that he'd someday find the kind of love his parents shared. He seriously doubted that could come about after a day and a night spent with some man he didn't know. But the idea of being romanced touched something in him, warmed and filled a place he'd shut away. The idea of being wanted for himself, not his fame or fortune or status, was a nice one, one he planned on enjoying—for a little while at least.
His were pleasant dreams indeed. No sooner than he'd drifted off, Harry found himself in a place unlike any dreamscape he'd known before. Misty warmth and shadow surrounded him as he lay on a bed of the most delicate and fragrant material. It was like the dewy brush of a thousand rose petals caressed his skin. He was not alone, nor was he afraid. Though the shadows obscured his vision, he knew the one with him would not harm him—could not harm him, in this place he was as familiar to Harry as his own name. With him Harry was safe, warm, loved. Tender lips brushed his softly, once, twice then melded to his own, pressing against his mouth with adoring conviction. A gently sweep of his lover's tongue begged entry which Harry gave willingly, opening himself to the burning urgency of their kiss.
His head was spinning; certainly he had never been kissed so. Passionately and lovingly, and so thoroughly he forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to feel anything but this bliss and was loathe to give it up. The feel of his lover's rich wet tongue throbbed against his own, delicately licking at his palate, his teeth, and the sides of his cheek, learning the taste of him, devouring him and leaving nothing but desire and burgeoning arousal in his wake. Soft moans of pleasure cut into the stillness, but whether they came from him or his lithe bodied lover, Harry didn't know, didn't care. One word burned through him, setting his body afire, leaving resistance and all other thought ash. More.
He could live like this forever, without thought, without breathing, as long as his lover fed him with his passion. Offering his mouth as Harry's banquet, a rich feast and sweet like honeycomb, tangy like lime, subtle like delicate spice, with traces of something woodsy and rich like forest loam. Yes, he could stay like this forever.
His unseen lover broke the kiss after long moments where he too savoured the taste of their mouth's union. He loosed one hand from Harry's inky hair and sensitive fingertips traced his features, skimming across his forehead, down his nose, over his cheekbones. Each brush of his fingers a butterfly kiss. The calloused pads trailed further down Harry's face and over the column of his throat. Harry knew nothing but that he could not get enough, that he desperately wanted to be touched. He didn't want the delicious burn within him to end.
And it didn't, his lover mapped out the muscles of his chest with those sinfully elegant fingers and followed their path with his petal soft lips. He nuzzled Harry's nipples, tasting, licking, nipping—playing with one then the other, laving them with his flattened tongue until Harry was beyond coherency. He arched up into his lover's mouth, moaning and begging for more. His phantom lover obliged, gently closing his teeth over a sensitive nub pinching slightly, the pleasurable pain of it making Harry dizzy with want.
Harry trembled, overwhelmed by his reaction, it was unexpected and too much and he felt he would overload on the pleasure he was experiencing. Never had he indulged such. It was wonderful and frightening. And as if his lover understood, he gentled his caresses and soothed him, stroking him to comfort and contentment as the last the echoes of Harry's panic died away. With a last kiss, chaste and full of promise, his lover drew away. "Amta ame, I would never hurt you" he whispered. And Harry woke.
He bolted upright panting.
That was…What the hell was that? I-I've never had a…that was like nothing I've ever…Whoa, that some dream!
He was disoriented for a while and his thoughts spun, but as he marshalled his coherence, he found several things; the most pressing was that more time had passed than he thought. He'd been obviously been exhausted and slept through the night and into the morning. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and shunting aside the lingering discomfiture caused by his luscious and bewildering dream. He'd never dreamed so vividly, yet it was amorphous too. Why didn't he see his lover? Harry couldn't remember the words he'd whispered, but what had they meant? For a moment Harry was concerned his hot chocolate had been dosed with something, but he pushed that thought away. He'd been assured no harm would come to him, hopefully, that meant they wouldn't tamper with his food or beverages. And he was certain it wasn't an induced or sent dream, after all he was an accomplished Occulemens now. Clearing his mind and erecting mental barriers was a long ingrained habit thanks to the ceaseless drilling with Snape in his 6th year. And it wasn't as though he'd never had dreams…of that nature before, he was after all a young man with healthy (though mostly unindulged) appetites. With some doing, he convinced himself that the dream was most likely an indication that he was feeling better all 'round. And finally satisfied with his logic, he completely roused himself to find he was ravenous.
He pulled the bell for a house servant. The Maurai elf that appeared was little like the house elves he'd known in the Wizarding world. She held herself with a self-assurance and very odd sort of quirky grace, which he guessed wasn't all that unusual being as he'd always noticed their kind had rather elongated limbs that lent themselves to smooth, easy movement. It's just that most of the elves he knew, well Kreacher, Dobby and Winky, moved with jerky fearful motions and stifled what—now appeared to be—natural elven poise.
She dropped a polite curtsey, pulling the ruffling edge of her sheath dress slightly. He thought the dress quite lovely; the shimmering iridescent blue fabric caught the light of the sun revealing the myriad strands of other colours in the garment. And her thin cobalt coloured overcoat bore a similar sheen so was a perfect compliment. Harry realised he'd been staring, cataloguing the differences between the elf before him and others, Winky, especially.
He blushed realising he'd been caught out, "Er—um, good morning. I was wondering if I could have some breakfast?"
To his surprise the elf favoured him with a little smile, subtle facial gestures in a house elf—Maurai elf—were beyond his ken. "It is being my honour to bid you good afternoon Intended," she answered kindly, politely pointing out it was later than he thought. "Elly is being my name and I'se bringing breakfast if you wish or lunch young master."
Well it seems no matter where they are house elves—er—Maurai elves, speak English woodenly and call everyone Master or Mistress. I really hate that Master thing, even if it's more a courtesy here than a necessity.
"Please, just call me Harry."
"As you is wishing Harry." She inclined her head, obviously waiting an answer to the food question.
Harry thought a moment and despite the time he still felt breakfast was in order, "Thank you Elly. And I'd still like breakfast if it's not too much trouble."
"It is being no trouble. No trouble at all Harry. It is being my pleasure to bring your breakfast." She dropped another brief curtsey and popped out of sight.
Harry slipped on his new dressing gown, and went out to his balcony. It overlooked a small greenspace courtyard; the garden was quite private as it seemed it could only be accessed from stairs that led to the two balconies that faced it. He smiled at the thought that he'd have a bit of space outside to sit and think things over without interruption, or the kind of scrutiny he was bound to face in more public areas of the Kynaston. He settled himself in one of the two comfortable chairs arranged by a table on the balcony and thought about what he'd do to fill his time. Before he got very far however, Elly reappeared and placed a tray bearing a large breakfast, on the table at his side.
"If you is being more hungry Harry, I'se brings more food. Just rings the bell," She pointed to a small crystal bell on the tray.
Harry smiled, house—er—Maurai elves everywhere seemed to be overly concerned about his eating habits. Besides the expected tea, there were hearty helpings of scrambled eggs, bacon, black pudding, and a basket of warm rolls and sweet butter, while half-famished he doubted he'd get through it all, let alone be hungry for more.
"Thank you Elly. I'm sure this'll be fine, but I'll use the bell if I'm hungry, or need anything later," he added hastily, seeing the shift in demeanour that usually accompanied a stiff talking to from Dobby. Maybe the Maurai elves he knew weren't all that different after all.
His attempt to placate her seemed to be successful, as she merely nodded and didn't admonish him to make better and broader use of her services. "Elly is also bringing Harry a gift from the High Lord." Elly snapped her fingers and two books appeared in Harry's lap.
Harry smiled and nodded, "Thank you Elly."
Once again the elf dropped a curtsey and popped out of sight. Weighing his options, Harry decided he'd check over the books first then tuck in. He was pretty sure a heating charm had been placed on the food, so he didn't have to worry about his meal going cold, and he'd always been one to indulge his curiosity. He opened the cover of the first book, Cesky Raj by Josef Prosek and found a message in the same elegant script that graced the note which accompanied his hot chocolate the day before.
Seketh ame,
This is a wonderful book about the Český ráj, and yes, it is Muggle, so don't expect much from the pictures. I am sure you'll enjoy learning more about this region, and the tome will make an excellent souvenir for when you return from your 'holiday'. The second is also an exceptional book and I hope there will be time for you to see some of the works described within, it too is Muggle.
Of course, nearly everything you've encountered so far is more than meets the eye, and these books are no exception, they each hold an additional text you may find of interest. The books are keyed to your magical signature; the secondary works will only reveal themselves when you are alone or with Kindred. To access the hidden texts just tap the dragon on the bookplate twice then close the cover. Enjoy your reading.
D.
Harry put the card aside, making a mental note to ask someone the meaning of 'Seketh ame,' and examined the bookplate. It was a Wizarding label and the fierce woodcut dragon illustration occasionally blew flames and moved about in his frame. 'Ex Libris' was written in Gothic style calligraphy at the top and there was space below for Harry to fill in his name with his own messy script.
Intrigued, Harry tapped the dragon twice and closed the cover as directed. The book shimmered and a moment later he was looking at Royal Peace Settlement: A History of Kynaston by Gareth Brynmor, Clan Arianrhod, House Celandine. Harry shook his head in amusement. He had a feeling he'd be spending what was left of his afternoon in the courtyard reading. He'd never gotten around to actually finishing Hogwarts: A History, but he didn't have the luxury of relying on Hermione's voracious reading habits this time around.
He put Cesky Raj by Josef Prosek/Royal Peace Settlement: A History of Kynaston by Gareth Brynmor, Clan Arianrhod, House Celandine aside to look at the second book. It was larger and thicker, and certainly held fewer pictures than the first. He repeated the revelation process and Art & History of Prague by Andrea Pistolesi became Children of the Earth Mothers: A History of the Clans, vol. 2 of 16: Clan Anata by Ninua Khosr, Clan Anata, House Damek. Yes, he'd certainly be spending a good bit of time reading today—after he ate of course.
During his meal Harry realised it was actually a really beautiful day. The sun shone brightly and the weather was warm. Sweetness carried on the wind from the flowering tree in the gardens, and all in all he felt relaxed and content. There was an underlying energy that surrounded and thrummed through him leaving him invigorated. It was, as Marjeta had said, at the very least an adventure, and one that wouldn't get him killed which, admittedly, was a nice change of pace from his previous exploits. He thought he might actually be looking forward to the rituals of the Amoraj and certainly the entertainments Etienne mentioned.
He'd planned on coming to Prague and solving the mystery of what was bothering him as he explored the city and another culture very different from his own. He wasn't sure he'd still get to see the sights of Prague, but there was no reason for him not to explore Kynaston and The Citadel in the way he'd planned. He was still in a foreign place amidst new people with the opportunity to learn about an unfamiliar culture. From what he'd seen, the vampire society was very complex, to move among them and learn about their customs would be interesting and the art and architecture of Kynaston made the idea of a walking tour exciting.
Deciding his ruminations had taken enough of his time and that the afternoon was wasting, Harry rose to take a quick shower. He was rifling for clothes in the bureau where his suitcase had been unpacked, when he remembered Etienne saying more appropriate clothing had been provided for him in the room's large wardrobe. He tossed his t-shirt and jeans back in the drawer and sauntered over to the wardrobe. Like all the doors ensuite, these were ornately carved with beautiful scrollwork. He opened them and gaped at the number of beautiful robes, there were at least two dozen—all his size, in rich fabrics and colours that complimented him.
He selected one, a fitted jacket-style robe slit from hem to hips, of bright cobalt blue with embroidered borders of pale blue and silver leaves that reminded him a little of Elly's coat. He pulled on the accompanying pale blue trousers and slipped the robe over his head. He was about to close the wardrobe when he noticed that beneath the robes were several pairs of ankle-high dragon hide boots. He chose a pair that matched his new trousers, and satisfied he'd dressed well enough not to embarrass himself, closed the door.
Once he was dressed, he returned to his book, finding the information comprehensive but accessible:
Clan Beginnings: The First Council and High Lady Calah Akkadian
Among the young and newly turned there is a commonly held misperception that Clan Anata is the clan of The Council and Most High because the first Kindred were children of Anata, and so in her honour the clan was named and it is the Clan Anata that all other clans were formed. It is an accurate statement that from Clan Anata the clans and our root culture dispersed, but Kindred existed long before our Mother revealed herself as Anata. We are more than just Anata's children. As all other creatures, the Kindred have been since the beginning of Life. We have been since before breathing creatures sought to name our Mother, we and all other beings magical and non-magical alike, just knew who She was then and that we belonged to her.
It is no wonder that The Earth is as varied as her children, that she appears to us in myriad forms, and is honoured by myriad names. She is however always Mother and so all clans honour her by her names. Clan Anata is no different. The Babylonian goddess Anata is the goddess of earth, like with all other clans, Clan Anata is named for an incarnation of our Great Mother.
Before the formal organisation of clans, Kindred still aligned themselves along familial lines, lines we now recognise as House lines. Pre-Clan Kindred society however was much more nomadic and secretive. When representatives of Pre-Clan lines first gathered to form a more cohesive Kindred government and draft common laws for the kindred the first Council was formed. It was decided that The Council be a separate entity so that the Clan leaders were accountable to The Council, so the nobility of our culture came into existence as this first council consisted of members of the elite and revered wise from the nomadic clans. For detailed discussion of the organisation of Pre-Clan Kindred culture see Children of the Earth Mothers: A History of the Clans, vol. 1 of 16: Dawn of the Clans. It was further decided that there should be one who would lead and govern all, and so the position of the Most High came into being.
The first Most High, Calah Akkadian, was High Lady for nearly two millennia, and is the recognised founder of Clan Anata. By the High Lady's governance the nomads were gathered and Clans were formed. For her own clan the High Lady chose to honour the Great Mother by the name she had first learned for Her. It is not that the Kindred only came into existence with the development of Mesopotamia…
"Excuse me, Harry?"
Harry started, his hand flew to his chest and the book dropped from his lap. "Merlin Etienne! You startled me!"
The Seer chuckled lightly, "So it would seem. I am sorry, but I'd been knocking for some time and I started to worry. Forgive me for intruding."
Harry shook his head to clear some of his reading fugue away, he'd been reading for hours it seemed, "No problem. I'm sorry I didn't hear you I was reading." He reached down to retrieve his nearly-finished book.
Etienne nodded, "I see. I'm glad he took my advice. I trust you're enjoying your reading?"
"Yes, it's really fascinating. And the writing isn't nearly as dry as I've seen in some history books."
Etienne smiled, "Well the High Lord is somewhat known for his…dislike of overly dry texts. That he chose these books for you doesn't surprise me. What does, I admit, is that he acted so quickly. I didn't expect him to pillage his library before tomorrow."
Harry's eyes widened, "You mean he got these just for me?"
Etienne nodded, "Of course. You didn't think he went around arbitrarily giving away the books from his personal library did you?"
"Well-er-actually yes. I mean I didn't think they were from his personal library or anything. But I thought—I don't know—I thought it was something he did for each of the Intended. A sort of standard welcoming gift…" Harry blushed and shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.
Etienne pursed his lips in patent disapproval, "Do not assume that the Intended all experience the same things Harry. Yes, by rights of the Amoraj, you will be courted at the same time, but the High Lord recognises that you are individuals with unique pursuits and you will be treated and courted as such. There are a few common rituals that will be shared by all of you, but that is the greatest extent to which you'll be treated in precisely the same manner.
I reported to him once you were settled; it was then I told the High Lord you were very inquisitive and that I doubted you would be satisfied with only the information gleaned from casual conversations. His attentions toward you are motivated by his own limited understanding of your character and interests. I thought he might provide you with some texts or perhaps arrange for you to have an afternoon with Ninua. She loves to talk history as you might guess."
"Ninua…oh you mean the author. She lives here?"
"Usually. She's abroad doing research for her next book at the moment, but she'd certainly answer the High Lord's summons if he were to send for her. I can ask him to—"
"No, no don't bother, please. I don't want to disrupt anything. The book is fine for now and if I have more questions I can always just…ask you or someone right?"
"True. It wouldn't be a bother though Harry. You must try to understand how important your presence is. All of us are at your service and we will do all we can to ensure your stay is all you wish it to be."
"That's going to take some getting used to. I'm just an ordinary wizard, no matter what some people choose to believe. Just a regular bloke, so being treated like royalty or something, is kind of weird.
I think I understand. But really Harry, you are Intended and you may become The Chosen, in which case you will be royalty of a sort. We are merely treating you as your position demands. Plus," he added with a smile, "those of us who've met you, like you very much and want you to be happy here as just Harry, not only as one of the Intended."
Heaved a relieved sigh, "Thank you Etienne. It's awful being treated a particular way because of what you are, or what people think you are, instead of who you are."
A small sad smile settled on the Seer's face, "I am Seer of the Clans, Harry. I know a bit about how it feels to be seen as your title."
"Oh. I forgot. I'm sorry Etienne, I didn't mean to—"
Etienne waved aside the apology, "You needn't worry Harry, I am not offended. And because I can see your next question without employing my abilities, I will say this; I do not know who the next Chosen will be. I suppose I might, but Seeing is an uncertain thing. There are so many possible outcomes of any given situation. It takes great concentration, and it is quite a drain to determine a particular future. I, like everyone else, will wait to learn who the next Chosen will be."
Harry smiled, "That was my next question. What is it like though, being a Seer?"
"Harry you and your questions!" He chuckled and settled deeply into his chair, "Being a Seer is like many things Harry. I am sometimes a vehicle of Fate, and the voice of prophesy. Sometimes, I am a conduit for the spirits beyond or for the gods and goddesses and Great Mother. Sometimes, I cast myself out to discern possible futures in order to advise someone who has come for my help, or for The Council, or the Most High.
That last actually, is what I do most. I offer my advice about actions and their consequences; I share what I See about what may happen. To direct someone's actions by what I See can be dangerous. I may inadvertently change something that was meant to happen in a certain way, causing greater harm and chaos than good. It is why I rarely seek out a particular outcome."
Harry regarded him sympathetically, "That must be exhausting having the responsibility of knowing so much."
"You are very astute Harry. It can be exhausting and very lonely besides, great Seers often pass through life unmated. But it is my calling, and I do it willingly and gladly. Remember my talent is both a gift and ability; I have trained to use it well and wisely. Like any magic it is not wholly subject to my control, but for the most part I choose when to employ my talents. Much of the time I am just an ordinary being." He chuckled at Harry's incredulous look, "Alright perhaps not so ordinary, as my body is that of an adolescent and I am ancient, and I am of a noble house, but you know what I mean…my life is defined by more than just my position. I am more than a vehicle of Fate and the gods. Do you understand?"
"Yes and it's good to know." Harry shook his head, "It's still really weird to see you as a kid when I know you're older than…well…than dirt."
Etienne nearly fell out of his chair he laughed so hard. Eventually, still holding his sides, he wiped away his mirthful tears, "Oh you are precious Harry. Never change." He chortled more, "I am not as old as all that, I will have you know. Dirt predates me by quite a bit. But yes, I suppose it must be odd to know I am so old. Though it's never been put to me quite like that."
He calmed himself, though the occasional giggle would escape, and looked intently at Harry. "You know I actually came by for a reason. I have to prepare you for The Presentation tomorrow. I see the High Lord didn't give you any books on the Amoraj. I'm not sure whether that's a good thing or not. On one hand you are the sort that likes to be well prepared and wants to know what to expect, on the other the Amoraj should really unfold for you undirected with as little expectation on your part as possible."
Etienne steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips. "What do you think Harry? Both in terms of tradition and your own acceptance of what may happen, it would be best for things to progress naturally, without expectation on your part, but would that be too disconcerting for you—not knowing exactly what was coming?"
Harry thought hard. Knowing what he was getting into and having as much information as possible beforehand was something very important to him, but he understood there was such a thing as knowing too much and that having expectations of a process might influence it or his responses in negative ways. He was certain none of the other Intended were given this option and in the end his sense of fairness won over his apprehensiveness. "I'll be fine Etienne. Thank you for offering though. Oh—I wanted to ask. What does 'Seketh ame' mean?"
Harry noticed Etienne stiffened in surprise. "Your articulation is atrocious," he quipped in an attempt to distract Harry from his shocked reaction. He knew at once it hadn't worked. He sighed, "Where did you hear that phrase?"
Harry reached over and retrieved the High Lord's card from the table and showed it to Etienne whose eyes widened in surprise. "I see. Well, actually no I don't, but that's beside the point. This is most…unexpected Harry." He shot the young wizard an inscrutable look, "You remember that except for your aura, the High Lord cannot see you?"
With Harry's nod he continued, "He can feel you and recognise you by your magical signature. That is why he could key these books to you individually. But usually the Most High makes no distinctions between the Intended. I will explain this more later, but you do not use your true names with him. The Council will provide you names to go by, which are actually more like titles, during the Amoraj. I do not know if this means the High Lord will be 'naming' you himself, or if you've been singled out for another reason. I will speak to him about it. But to answer your question, 'Seketh ame' is Lurèaldon. I told you it is rarely spoken, which is true for the most part. Endearments though, and curses oddly enough, are the exception.
Most Kindred use Lurèaldon casually when speaking endearments to their friends and family, or when cursing said friends and family," he grinned a little. "'Seketh ame' is a little-used endearment though, like most Lurèaldon there's no direct translation, the closest would be 'beautiful and bright or shining soul'. It may be that your aura is unusually bright. It is the High Lord's habit to be out and about in the Kynaston during the day; he hates being cooped up in The Council rooms or the Governing chambers if he can help it, especially on particularly lovely days. It is possible he caught sight of you yesterday."
"So he's not allowed to see us before The Presentation?"
"He's not supposed to seek you out before The Presentation," he corrected. "It is inevitable, particularly given his penchant for roaming, that he'd not see any of you before The Presentation. Remember, the Intended do not come to The Citadel at the same time. The first made her way here little over a month ago. I'm sure he's caught glimpses of her here and there since her arrival."
Oddly, Harry felt a surge of jealousy at the mention of another Intended. Before, they were an amorphous mass. Intellectually, he knew there were 6 others receiving the attentions of the High Lord, but for some reason it deeply bothered him now that the vague body known as the Intended was taking on shape, details in the form of actual people. People who wanted his…
Whoa! Rein it in. What the hell am I thinking? Mine? My...what? I haven't even met this High Lord and I'm thinking 'mine' all of a sudden? Not good. Definitely not good. I have no interest in marrying someone I don't know, don't love. And he's a he. Not that it's all that big a deal that he's a he--I just haven't given any it thought. Alright I have…but not in any concrete kind of way, not with men or women actually. Although that dream…
"…ry? Harry! Are you listening to me?"
His head snapped round, "Oh, sorry Etienne, I was just thinking. What were you saying?"
"I'd been speaking of the Intended who have been in-residence and the young woman who arrived today. But I can recount that for you later." He cast an appraising look over Harry, "I think you are not yet fully recovered from the strain caused by the pull and could do with a nap."
The Seer nodded definitively, "It's nearly time for supper so you can rest on the settee awhile." He guided Harry up and through the suite to the sitting room, not-so-gently nudging him down onto the velvet covered chaise. "I would very much like for you to dine with my House this evening, so if you wish I will come fetch you when it is time."
Harry nodded. "That'd be nice." he yawned, then blushed, "Maybe I am a bit tired, even though I've slept so much already…."
Etienne smirked, "Mmm, the pull is an exhausting thing. It's not so unusual to need more than a day to recover…you rest. I will see you soon enough Harry." He strode toward the door then suddenly shifted and turned back, "I almost forgot. Do not introduce yourself by name this evening. You will only be known as an Intended until The Presentation tomorrow. Then you may use the moniker you are assigned. It is more than enough that Marjeta and I know you by name, we are your guides. But tonight, you'll be among the public, and it is most important that you maintain a kind of anonymity during the Amoraj."
Harry waved. "Got it. Oh hey, speaking of names—is Etienne really your name? I mean it's not Greek…"
The Seer smiled, "No, it's not Greek. It's French actually. I'm very old Harry, and having one name is…well—it's kind of boring. I think so anyway. I choose a new name every other century or so," the young looking man shrugged. "Most Kindred think of my new names as sort of nicknames, since my true name is used in official capacities. On a day to day though, I like changing it up a bit. I became Etienne about fifty years ago, and I rather like it. I may keep this one for a while longer than usual."
Harry snickered at the Seer's nonchalance, "Well that's that I guess. You're definitely different from anyone I've met before Etienne." The Seer bowed playfully and Harry yawned again, "You'll tell me more about The Presentation later right?"
Etienne chuckled as Harry rubbed his eyes. "Yes, since that was my purpose in visiting after all. Don't worry about it now. Sleep, I'll tell you as much as I am able later this evening, after the concert most likely. Now get some rest." He left through the door in a swirl of robes that vaguely reminded the drowsy Harry of his old Potions Master, except with Etienne it seemed more an example of natural grace rather than affectation.
Tbc…
A/N 2: Yeah, I know…this wasn't the most interesting chapter ever written, but hey there's more to come so it'll get better. You got comments? Criticisms? Review!
And btw, Cesky Raj by Josef Prosek is a real book that's received excellent reviews for its depth of information on the Český ráj, unfortunately for Anglophones, it's written in Czech (this means I haven't read it, in case you missed my note about my inability to understand Czech). There are a few books out there that feature brief sections on the region and its history, but I haven't found any solely dedicated Český ráj in English. Likewise, Art & History of Prague by Andrea Pistolesi exists and is worth checking out at your local library.