Amir knows he could write home at anytime. That in less than a day, he could have a chest of gold personally delivered to the hotel, courtesy of a palace courier. He'd never have to worry about budgeting ever again, could eat and drink and indulge as he'd always done back home. Truly, he could buy all of Zephyr Town if he wanted. He's been here for three weeks and he has already fallen in love: with the glass blue river pumping lifeblood through the heart of the town, the sagging limbs of ancient trees with trunks still as sturdy as bone, and the tempting flesh of summer crops and overripe fruits. What human could compare to such raw power, or could offer such vulnerability?
As much as Amir daydreams about having this paradise all to himself, to wander and enjoy as he pleases, he knows he could never rip the villagers from their home. For if he bought off the land, what would happen to the kindly old woman at the cafe who had allowed Amir to leave without paying for his meal? He had been so ashamed, having spent most of the night ordering wine and desserts, only to get to his feet and discover there was no money in his belt. Joan, that was the name of the old woman, hadn't dwelled on it for more than a second. Maybe next time, she'd said, ushering him toward the door. Now please be careful on your way home, it's late and the path can be quite difficult to follow in the dark.
Yes, Amir could write his parents for more money, but at the same time he cannot. Because he is embarrassed that he needs more after only three weeks. Because he is ashamed that Joan, still working despite her old age, can manage to get by without customers paying. Yet Amir, who has never had to work a day in his life, could not manage dinner without his wine and chocolate.
Amir is determined to pay her back. And not only that, he intends to pay her with his own money.
Joan was correct, as expected of a local. The path is hard to find in the dark and memory is Amir's sole guide. That's why it's a little startling when the shadowy structure of a house seems to materialize in front of him all at once. He isn't certain if this is the right one and isn't interested in wasting time. He firmly raps his knuckles against the door and waits.
Nothing. He feels his nerves rustle upon noticing the soft light glowing from the windows. Amir is not used to being ignored. He knocks again, louder.
A long moment crawls by before the door is swung open, revealing a young man. He dons exquisite dark robes, with a desert tan scarf draped across his shoulders and tessalated turban wrapped loosely over his dark hair. Expressionless, he regards Amir over the rim of his glasses, his mouth drawn into a line.
They've met just once before when they'd made brief introductions at the Pet Festival. Amir had also met half the town that day and could not possibly be expected to remember every single name. Still, there were fragments of each person that stuck. This man's clothes, for instance, had been very fine at the festival and now again as he stands before Amir. The cloth looks hand-stitched, must be imported, somewhere exotic and remote in the Southeast part of the Orient. Amir has an eye for quality and patterns.
And there was one other thing he remembered. "You're a dealer of ores?"
The man's eyes flicker behind his glasses. "Minerals"
Amir nods, gratified, disliking semantics. "Then I have something you may-"
"I only do business during the Bazaar," the man cuts over him. "If you're eager to sell, you'll have to wait until then."
"You haven't yet heard what I'm selling." Amir wards off any indignation creeping into his voice, though it probably shows in his face.
"I don't adjust my working hours to my customers' earliest conveniences." The man is cold and clear. "If that's all then, goodnight. Try not to trip on the path on your way home."
He's already closing the door when Amir pulls the necklace from his belt and thrusts it out. The door halts midswing. The man's wine red eyes pass over the chain and fixate on the pendant, the yellow stone in the middle that gleams and waxes like the stars.
"It's a Moonstone," Amir tells him.
"Hmm," is all the man says before he disappears with a shadowy blur of his robes, leaving the door ajar. The corner of Amir's mouth quirks with this small victory. He steps inside and is immediately assaulted with striking smells, meaty smoke and savory spices, watering his eyes with their strength. He can't help but cough, politely pressing his knuckles against his mouth as he shuts the door behind him. "Take a seat," he hears the man say.
Blinking away the blur in his eyes, Amir pulls up the closest chair. Its cushion is shockingly comfortable and Amir thinks it would find a fitting home among other palace chairs. Impressed, he runs his fingertips over the wood, recognizing the scaly sensation of dragonwood.
"You have excellent taste," Amir says as he examines the carvings on the back of the chair, swirls of wind and water chasing each other off the wood.
"Thank you Amir."
Amir glances at him, an embarrassed heat in his cheeks. Thankfully, the man's back is turned and he's occupied with searching his shelves, which are lined with trinkets equally as curious and precious as the chair.
"I apologize for my rudeness," Amir says, "But I can't quite recall your name."
"It's Lloyd." It seems Lloyd has found whatever he's looking for because he carries it over to the table, something black and metallic. He sets it down then holds an open palm out to Amir.
"Ah…?" Amir is at a loss.
"The necklace."
"Of course." Amir drops it in Lloyd's hand, noting the patches of calluses on his pale skin. He watches as Lloyd returns to the metal object, opens a compartment, and removes a wad of cloth. When he unrolls it, there is a collection of thin delicate instruments inside.
"I hope you're not particularly attached to this necklace," Lloyd says. He is holding the pendant to the light, squinting as he picks up one of the metal instruments.
"I've come here to sell it, haven't I?" Amir sounds calm, but on the inside he is already beginning to feel the ache of loss. The necklace had been a birthday gift from his sister many years ago, back when they had been much closer, almost inseparable. It was the happiest time of his life. Although he doesn't wear it anymore, he's kept it in a velvet-lined box beside his bed and polishes it often. It's one of his oldest and dearest treasures.
"And you're completely committed to that decision?"
Amir bristles. "Granted you will offer me a fair price."
"I'll only be able gauge the value if I remove the stone. I'm not interested in the other pieces." Lloyd lowers the pendant and levels a cautious, patient look at Amir. "Is it alright for me to take it apart?"
A twinge sharpens and dulls in Amir's chest. "Yes, that's fine."
It doesn't take very long. Lloyd wields the thin instruments with extreme care and a confidence that can only be blessed by practice. Amir's eyes do not stray for even a second. He is fascinated with this, such precise and efficient work, and he finds himself wishing he'd learned more practical trades while growing up. His family had placed such a high importance on arts and music that there wasn't much time to master other, less performative skills.
"Do you mine any of your minerals yourself?" Amir asks. His gaze is lingering once again on the calluses that decorate Lloyd's hands and fingers. The poor man's jewels.
"No," Lloyd says. "There's no mine in Zephyr town, or anywhere close to it." He places the Moonstone inside of the metal machine then gets to his feet, peering down. When Amir stretches his neck, he can see there is some sort of glass contraption fixed to the top of the machine. "Hmm," he says, adjusting the contraption. "Interesting."
"How do you typically come by your minerals then?"
Lloyd stops what he's doing. Turns and stares at Amir, long and hard. Amir meets his gaze because he is a prince, and he has withstood far more penetrating glares a thousand times over. Slowly, Lloyd shapes his reply, "I travel a lot. Trade, buy, and barter. On occasion, I'll bribe some digsite workers to bring me any interesting gems they come across."
Amir is surprised at his confession. Bribery? Well, it's not as if there isn't a fair share of that going on in his country's government. It's the first real answer he's received from Lloyd, so Amir isn't going to waste it by scolding him, no, he'd rather like to continue their conversation. Before he can open his mouth though, Lloyd is speaking.
"Now it's your turn. Care to explain where you got your treasure?"
Amir is curious at the accusation in Lloyd's tone. "It was a gift from a family member many years ago. Why? Is there something wrong with it?"
Lloyd reaches into the metal object and pulls out the stone. Holds it out in front of him for both of them to see. "In the past, every Moonstone I've ever encountered has been shiny, silvery, and opaque. Does this stone possess any of those qualities?."
Well, no. It is a dull yellow, light catching through its translucent center. Amir thinks back to that birthday, so long ago. His sister had been a child then, didn't know anything more about gems than Amir did, but she'd brought the royal jewelers to the party to verify its authenticity. They'd fawned and raved over it as much as everyone else. "The person that gave it to me assured me that it was a Moonstone," Amir begins. "I'm sure you have a lot more experience with stones than I do, but I trust that person more than anyone else in the world. Maybe I should take my business elsewhere if we can't come to an agreement.
Lloyd's mouth tilts, a trace of annoyance or amusement. Most likely something in between. "My, you're quick to anger."
Amir just smiles pleasantly. He hasn't raised his voice even once. If Lloyd wasn't interested in buying the stone, Amir never would have gotten past the doorway.
"Before you storm out and run off to another seller, I think you'd be interested in hearing my findings. After inspecting the stone's structure and composition, I can tell you that it is in fact a Moonstone."
There is a beat of silence where Amir waits.
"Do you want to get a second opinion, or can we continue our business right now?" Lloyd sounds so serious that Amir can't be sure if he's truly angry or being playful. "Before I make an offer for it," Lloyd continues, "I'd like to know how 'this person', who you claim to place so much trust in, was ever able to procure a Moonstone of this color? At first glance, I'd wager its mineral content isn't entirely pure and is mixed with some other element, like yellow diamond. If so, that would make this stone exceptionally valuable and possibly one of a kind."
"I don't know," Amir says anxiously. Lloyd isn't alluding that Amir is secretly wealthy, nevermind royalty, but the question is close enough to rattle him. "Maybe the vendor they bought it from didn't even know the value himself."
"They bought it from a normal vendor?" Lloyd presses.
Amir shuts his eyes, unable to help himself. He needs to even out his breathing. "I thought so," Amir says, opening them again. "But it was many years ago. I could be wrong."
Lloyd stares down at the stone in his hand, fingers flexing around it. He doesn't believe Amir. He must know something is wrong, that Amir had to have gotten the stone by other means, and he must be running through all the other possibilities in his mind. In this kind of village, where the winds are strong and free, suspicion will travel swiftly among the residents.
"200,00 G. My one and only offer." Lloyd hikes an eyebrow.
Sharp intake of breath. Then Amir is nodding, relief blooming like a flower and soft smile spreading across his lips.
Author's Note: Bit of a slow beginning, but I promise the pace will pick up in the following chapters. I'm aiming to finish this story in five chapters, what do you think? In case you didn't read the tags, this is going to be a Lloyd x Amir fic. If you've made it this far, I'd love to hear what you think! R & R!