Plucked Peacock

Pharaun is waiting in Nalfein’s study when he returns, sitting at the desk, looking through the papers stacked on it.  He glances up as Nalfein shuts the door, grinning.

“I locked that,” Nalfein says, pointing to his door.  “And warded it.”

“Well, I had something to ask you about,” Pharaun counters, hopping to his feet.  “Specifically, you promised me advice, if I recall correctly.”

“I offered you the advice you requested,” Nalfein corrects.  “Advice you promptly ignored.  You also did not disclose any part of your personal behavior in the matter.  It changes things a great deal.”

“What could possibly change things?” Pharaun scowls.

“Where would you like me to start?”

Nalfein flicks his hand, and the papers fly off the desk, settling on a bookshelf in neat piles.  Another flick, and Pharaun–and the desk chair–are shoved back against the wall, where a third flick dumps the wizard onto the floor.

“Are you–” Pharaun begins, face flushing with embarrassment as he tries to right himself.

“You know it’s one thing to jerk yourself off on how much a student idolizes your sorry ass,” Nalfein shoves Pharaun to his knees with one foot.  “It’s quite another to stoke his obsession until he’s hanging off your every word.”  Nalfein shoves harder, flattening Pharaun’s face into the ground.  “Honestly I expected you to learn your lesson.”

Pharaun’s face flushes dark, his fingers tapping along the ground as he clearly considers a spell to get him out of this.  Nalfein lifts his foot away and twists his hand, only audible in the clink of bangles.  The moonstone lamps flare bright as a full moon, bright enough to blind a drow who has seldom seen the World Above.

“STOP!” Pharaun screeches.

Nalfein hears him starting to rise, and spins on one heel, bringing his other foot up Pharaun’s throat and hooking it under his chin.  Pharaun stops cold, one leg tucked in and the other balanced precariously on the ground.  He tilts his head up, but winces when he realizes he can no longer lower it.

“Consider your next move very carefully,” Nalfein advises, tapping his toe lightly against Pharaun’s throat.

“He’s an obsessive rat,” Pharaun hisses.

“He’s not even fifty,” Nalfein counters.  “You’d done worse at thirty.”

Pharaun snorts, and shifts back.  “Don’t you think you’re empathizing too much?  I think it says more about you than it does me.”

“Considering your history?” Nalfein steps through with his foot, making Pharaun scramble back.  “Considering where you fucked him last?”

Pharaun grins at that, grins .  Nalfein brings his following foot between Pharaun’s legs, connecting with his groin hard.  Pharaun lets out a feeble whimper and buckles.  Nalfein crouches down and grabs his face, covering his mouth so he doesn’t weasel in another stupid word.

“I can ignore you, I can love who I want and forget you cannot stand that you’re still not over an interrupted dalliance, but you’ll leave everyone else out of it.  You made a promise.  If I have to replace the geas that Gromph put on you, I damn well will.”

Pharaun glares over Nalfein’s hand, and Nalfein shoves him to the ground.

“I don’t owe you advice,” Nalfein adds.  “I don’t really owe you shit, after what you did to me.”

“My dear Nalfein–”  Pharaun begins, his voice still clearly wavering.

“Don’t call me that,” Nalfein snaps.

“ My dear Nalfein ,” Pharaun repeats as he stands.  Nalfein rises with him.  “You are wrapping yourself up in this boy far too much,” he argues.  “If you want so badly for me to leave him alone, I’ll happily acquiesce…If I get to finish what I started.”

Nalfein leans in, and Pharaun parts his lips in a start of a triumphant grin.

“If you ever get a chance to touch me again, everyone will know very quickly that it was not with my permission.”

Pharaun's victory withers, and his lip curls up into a snarl.

"So you'll fuck that houseless nothing," he sneers, "but I'm tainted?  I'm not good enough for the least impressive scion of a dead house that never reached the heights of mine?"

"You're the one so proud to have gotten your dick inside me," Nalfein points out, "and when I was less accomplished too.  Of course, you just wanted something you could use against the Archmage then, but now?  Now you know that won't work, so what are you so proud of?"

Pharaun opens his mouth, but only manages to let out a weak scoff.

"No answer?" Nalfein smirks.  "Then allow me."

Nalfein grabs Pharaun by the scruff of his neck and bends him over the desk, holding him in place as he sits beside him.  Pharaun squirms and claws at the wood pathetically, and Nalfein tilts his head.

"You," Nalfein explains, "are a selfish, arrogant, domineering coxcomb.  You get off on being able to twist people to your whims, and nothing quite stokes your fragile little ego like getting to hold some pretty little thing under you and cum inside them."

Pharaun scowls, face flushing even darker.

"And oh, wouldn't I have been just the sweetest prize?" Nalfein goes on, sneering as he says each word.  "Everyone knows that Matron Do'Urden's a slut, but her son is so comparably chaste, a delicate little flower so easily plucked and so beautiful.  It's not a complicated political move, sure, but that sweet little bitch needs to be soaked in cum under you, doesn't he?"

"Get.  Off." Pharaun snarls.

Nalfein grabs Pharaun by the hair and yanks him around to hold the wizard close.  He leans into Pharaun's ear, his voice deathly soft.

“If you ever break into my rooms again, I will skin you alive.”

Nalfein releases Pharaun, who scrambles away from the desk, face flushed and pinched.  He takes a few deep breaths before rushing from the room, slamming the door behind him.  Nalfein crosses his legs and leans back on the desk with a long sigh.  He could feel himself shaking.  Pharaun didn’t scare him, not really, but manhandling a Master of Sorcere like that had been a gamble.

Threats like that might not come back around to Nalfein, but Pharaun has already proven he’s more than willing to retaliate in other ways.  Nalfein worries at his lip, flinching as his teeth break skin.  Vizaeth will feel what Nalfein’s done, he can tell.

That will be his fault, at the end of the day, and his alone.