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bansheelunaris · 11 months

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little fic i thought of featuring @kwillow's Ambroys and my own Banshee! was originally just gonna be an ask or something but it quickly spiraled out of control lmao. had a lot of fun writing this, so i may not be finished with the silly unicorn

Ambroys paced back and forth in his study, wringing his hands behind his back. He would not describe himself as nervous, but there was an anxiety in his stomach; he had invited a..."specialist" to visit with him, but this "specialist" was being delayed due to their job on the docks. Their job! People of Ambroys's social class didn't have jobs. Jobs were for the, well, the working class, and Ambroys would not have called on this "specialist" if he had known this. But the acquaintance that had referred them to Ambroys had neglected to mention this until the two were well into their morning tea. Ambroys had nearly lost his temper, but the acquaintance had assured him that they did splendid work. Begrudgingly, the celestial had accepted this, but after she had left, Ambroys edited his own records, reducing her from "confidant" to "acquaintance".

Ambroys pulled his watch out of a pocket for perhaps the tenth time, and read the ornate letters to see it was now ten minutes past ten in the morning. This specialist was now ten minutes late! With a snort, Ambroys replaced the watch and went to stand at the narrow window that overlooked his estate, trying to calm his nerves in the face of this, this injustice! Ambroys was an important man, and to be kept waiting was an insult.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear a knock at the study's door. "My lord," the voice of one of his maids called. "You have a visitor, he says you were expecting him. May I let him in?"

Ambroys quickly made sure that his outfit was in proper order, then slowly, deliberately stalked over to his ornate mahogany desk, and stood behind it so that he was in profile. He waited at least two more minutes before he said, "You may."

He heard the door open, a masculine voice mumble something, and then the maid asked, "Will there be anything else, my lord?"

"No, thank you," he replied, not yet looking at his guest. "If I need anything I'll call for you." He didn't see but he was sure the maid bowed before stepping out and quietly closing the door behind her.

Ambroys counted to ten before finally turning and offering his guest a small smile. "Welcome. You are Master Lunaris, yes?"

His guest was a wolf with bright blue fur, perhaps standing six feet tall, with broad shoulders that filled a white cotton shirt. His simple brown pants were held up by leather suspenders, and a baker boy hat rest between his ears. He stood loosely, his thumbs tucked into his waistband, but he stood up straighter when Ambroys spoke to him. He smiled broadly and said, "I wouldn't say I'm anyone's 'master'. You can just call me Banshee."

Ambroys managed to keep the smile on his face but his eye twitched. This just further demonstrated the class differences between the two of them. The Celestial turned to the window again and took a deep breath. If he were not in such a difficult situation, he would remove this man from his home in no time at all, but alas, he was very nearly out of options.

Another deep breath, and Ambroys asked, "Would you care for a drink?" He walked over to a counter top that held a few bottles of wine and certain liquors, along with all the appropriate glasses. He traced a finger across the labels, offering, "I have several excellent vintages from the north. I also have some wonderful Scotch from across the Western Seas, I might also have..."

"Oh, some Scotch would be wonderful, thank you," the wolf replied. As Ambroys set the glasses on the counter and went to pour them each a drink, he saw the wolf move to take a look at the study. Banshee stared up at one of the bookshelf that stretched to the ceiling, taking in the countless, priceless volumes, when he gasped softly. "Is that what I think it is?" Out of the corner of his eye, the Celestial saw the wolf reach out, and just before Ambroys snapped at him, the wolf's hand jerked back.

"Oh, I'm sorry, may I?" Banshee asked, turning towards Ambroys.

Content that he would not have to unleash some sort of horrors on his guest, Ambroys nodded. "Yes, but please be gentle, many of these books are no longer available."

"That's what caught my eye," Banshee said, tenderly pulling a book from its place. Gingerly flipping through a few pages, he added, "I'm no expert, but this looks a lot like a second, or even first, edition of A Night of Decadence! And it's remarkably well preserved, this novel was written, what, a hundred fifty years ago?" A blush blossomed on his cheeks. He gently replaced the book and added, "Sorry, I rather enjoyed that book when I was younger and a little more..." He trailed off but a coy smile touched his lips.

As Ambroys carried the drinks over, he was impressed with Banshee's knowledge of the book. Or at least, as close to impressed as Ambroys would admit. "Think nothing of it," Ambroys said, handing one of the glasses to the wolf. He gestured to a low table with two seats facing each other, welcoming him to sit. As Ambroys walked towards his seat, the one facing the door, he went on, "I prefer von Kornaghen's earlier works, after Wonders of the Flesh I felt he had gotten..." Ambroys trailed off, staring at the wolf in shock. "Gotten...too...."

Banshee had taken his seat, his legs spread wide, and as he had nodded along to what Ambroys was saying, the wolf had thrown the Scotch back and swallowed it all at once, not taking any time to savor it.

As Banshee gasped dramatically and smiled, he noticed that the Celestial sat silently, staring at the glass. He also looked down at the glass, and realized what had happened. His blush returning, Banshee said, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I forgot my manners. I suppose I am...still in work mode, I guess." He smiled sheepishly and tried to laugh it off. "My men and I, we usually go for quantity over quality and I...." He covered a cough with his hand, and held out the glass. "Could I trouble you for another?"

A thousand thoughts went through Ambroys's mind at this moment - later he would be shocked that rage hadn't pushed its way to the front - but first and foremost he had to be a good host. He set his own drink down, and rose to pour another glass for the wolf. Of course, this glass had a little less in it than the previous one, as he was not about to waste this expensive Scotch on someone who wouldn't appreciate it. Scotch! This was not cheap bourbon, brewed by simpletons in the mountains! This bottle alone had cost him nearly 300 gold!

Taking a deep breath, as he could feel his temper rising, Ambroys joined Banshee back at their seats, and handed over the glass. He did not sit down until he saw the wolf properly swirl the glass and take a tentative sip. Satisfied, Ambroys took his seat, and enjoyed his own sip.

"It is delicious, thank you very much," Banshee said after a second sip. "I do apologize for my behavior earlier."

Amborys graciously nodded. He had to admit, this wolf did behave with more decorum than many of Ambroys's associates; at least he apologized after committing a faux pas. "You are forgiven."

The two sat in silence for a time, until Banshee asked, "Sir, if you don't mind my asking, you needed to talk to me about some kind of business?"

Ambroys looked out the window and thoughtfully swirled the liquid in his glass. He had been trying to think of a way to broach the subject himself, but couldn't think of a tactful way to ask. In a way, he did appreciate the wolf getting straight to the point. At length, he ventured, "It is...difficult for me to admit, but...I need help with a...I suppose 'delicate' is not the correct word, but a matter that requires additional help." He turned back to look the wolf in the eye, crossing his legs in front of him as he did so. "In my youth, I would have preferred to handle these sort of things myself, but these days I have found it is much nicer to find someone more...suited to the task at hand." He paused again to smirk and take a sip of his drink. "I believe it is beneath someone as handsome as I to have to resort to violence, but I have heard that is something you excel at."

Banshee did not respond immediately, but instead looked out the window himself, clearly thinking of what to say. He asked, "What do you mean by that, exactly?"

Ambrosy frowned. He thought he had been making headway, but now Banshee had become defensive. Quickly sorting through his options, Ambroys chose a subtle approach. "I have heard from some acquaintances and...business associates, let's say, who have recommended you, and say you do exemplary work."

Banshee took another sip before asking, "And what work is that? I should tell you I'm no brute from the docks who'll go and rough someone up just because some rich dandy doesn't want to get their hands dirty." He waved a hand in the general direction of the docks. "I do know quite a few of those guys, though, and I'd be happy to get you in touch with them, if you like."

Ambroys bristled, and he could feel his facade start to slip, his teeth growing sharper in his mouth and his magic filling his body, rising like vapor from his horn and fingertips. He only just managed to keep himself in check, though he would remember how this wolf had spoken to him as some low-class, pedestrian, stupid, uncouth--

Ambroys closed his eyes and cleared his throat. When he opened them again, he looked to see if Banshee had noticed him slip, but if he did, the wolf didn't show it. Again, he reminded himself that if things were not so dire, he wouldn't even be speaking to someone like this.

A few more moments of silence, and Ambroys went on. He said, "No, that is not why I have called for you. I am having a very unique problem that I believe only someone with your specific skills can solve." He set his glass down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his hands in front of him. "As someone who frequents the docks, I'm sure you have seen many parcels with my family crest upon them. And I'm sure you also know that families such as mine trade in goods that do not pass through such respectable places. Many things I trade in can only move in the safety of night." He waited until the wolf met his eyes, and continued, "For just over a month now, my caravans have been attacked by a beast. I have lost a number of goods, though very little gold, and because this beast typically kills at least half of the men working the caravan, it has gotten very difficult to find people willing to move these goods."

He picked up his glass again, studying the liquid inside. "It has not only inconvenienced my business partners, but now I am beginning to feel the effects, and I don't like it." He looked towards Banshee, a haughty tone filling his voice. "I am a man who gets what he wants, Banshee, and when I don't get what I want...." Using just a small fraction of his magic, he lit the Scotch in his glass on fire, producing a beautiful flame. With a smirk that seemed just a little wrong, he concluded, "I get rather angry."

As the wolf took all of this in, Ambroys blew the fire and out and took another sip, but since he had burned all of the alcohol off, it tasted horrific, so he did his best to mask his disgust. As he set the glass down, Banshee leaned back in his seat and tapped his chin with a finger. Ambroys let him take his time to think, looking at the wolf's chest and traveling up towards his thick neck and his large, strong arms and--

Ambroys had no idea where these thoughts had come from, and turned away to quickly cover a blush that eased onto his face. He had never looked at another man this way before, at least not that he could remember, but there was something about the wolf that caught the Celestial's eye. Perhaps it was his muscular body that filled his shirt so well, perhaps it was the way he spoke to Ambroys as an equal, unafraid of the noble's rank and power, both metaphorical and metaphysical. Then, perhaps, it was just the Scotch that was putting these thoughts in his head.

Ambroys was so lost in these thoughts, and deciphering these thoughts, he almost didn't hear Banshee speak. The wolf had leaned forward as well, and asked in a low voice, "I suppose I should ask what 'skills' you are referring to." He sat back and gestured at himself. "I am little more than a simple dock worker, as you can see."

Ambroys knew this game well - he played it every day. He smiled and said, "Would a 'simple dock worker' recognize a first-edition von Kornaghen? I think not." The Celestial sat back, cocking one leg over the other and giving the wolf a conspiratorial wink. "I believe there is more to each of us than meets the eye."

Banshee smiled warmly and replied, "My lord, if you're going to talk to me like that, you should at least take me to dinner first."

Ambroys's breath caught in his throat, and the blush returned to his face. He had been prepared for a number of responses, but this hasn't been one of them. Again, he quickly covered his surprise with a cough, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the wolf's smile steadily turn into a smirk. Ambroys turned his nose up, and adjusted his waistcoat before saying, "Hmph. I'll have you know, sir, I do not consort with other men in such a way."

Banshee nodded in a conciliatory way. "My apologies, my lord." He finished his drink, set the empty glass on the table, and met the Celestial's eyes. "I must ask, though: what exactly are you asking me to do?"

Back in control of the conversation, Ambroys smiled to himself, and stated simply, "The beast is a werewolf, and I have heard that you are the most talented werewolf hunter in the land. Take care of this beast for me, and you will be handsomely rewarded." Another smile that was not quite right. "Bring me the pelt for a rug, and I'll pay you double."

Ambroys waited for the wolf's response, and saw him look away and fiddle with the brim of his hat, clearly nervous, but it didn't seem to be because of Ambroys. As Ambroys's smile faded, Banshee grimaced and said, "Well, the thing about that is...how do I put this...." He looked out the window and took a deep breath. "My lord, I'm afraid you have it backwards, as it were. You see, I'm not a werewolf hunter, I'm a werewolf hunter."

Ambroys scowled. He disliked it when people, other than his lawyers, argued semantics in this way. "What ever do you mean?" he asked, trying to hide his annoyance.

Banshee held out a hand. "Probably best to show you." After a moment, the wolf's forearm increased dramatically in size, the fur bristling out and massive claws easing out of his fingertips. "I don't hunt werewolves, people hire me to hunt things as a werewolf." He clenched his fist, and the arm eased back into its normal state.

Ambroys swallowed air, and stood up to face the window. This damnable liquor was affecting his mind and be did not enjoy it. Quickly regaining his composure, Ambroys asked, "And? If you hunt things as a werewolf, why not hunt another werewolf?"

"Well, put simply, werewolves are very difficult to kill." The wolf's eyes wandered around the study as he added, "Though not impossible, as many of my kind have found out. And to be frank, my lord, I cannot say I'm interested in ending the life of one of my fellowship, even if i have no idea who they are."

Ambroys continued to stare out the window, taking many deep breaths, doing his best to keep his temper. Needing even a minimal distraction, he stalked over to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a second drink. A shaky sip, to steady his nerves, and Ambroys spat, "I'm offering you thousands of gold to kill one little beast, and you can't stomach it?"

Banshee rose from his seat and squarely faced the Celestial. There was an edge to his voice as he said, "I hardly recall saying I couldn't stomach it, my lord. But risking my life because of someone else's temper tantrum? For gold? I hardly think so."

Ambroys muttered under his breath, and took a second, longer swig. Backed into a corner now, Ambroys conceded, "Very well. If you do not want gold, what do you want? My blood? My hair, or teeth? Not many people these days now how valuable these things are, but if it will convince you to help me, then so be it." He leaned against the counter, sighing. "Send for the maid, I still have bloodletting equipment somewhere."

Although he did not see it, Banshee's face softened, and he looked away before turning his attention back to Ambroys. The wolf studied the Celestial from foot to head, taking in his slender form and long, luscious hair.

"There's no need for that," Banshee told him. He tentatively took a step closer. "Although..." Banshee's gaze lingered on Ambroys's slim waist, and took another step. "I suppose I could be convinced through...a different type of physical payment."

Though his eyes were still on the counter before him, Ambroys could tell how the wolf was moving, and could sense his lascivious gaze. A strange mixture of emotion welled up inside him, haughty pride that Banshee was admiring him so, along with satisfaction that negotiations were turning back in his favor, but all with the nervous edge he'd been experiencing for some time now. With Banshee standing right behind him now, Ambroys chose the most exciting option, to give in to his hedonism. He smirked and asked, "Oh? And what exactly were you thinking?"

The wolf's hands slid from Ambroys's ribs down his waist until he grasped the Celestial's hips. Banshee leaned forward, and Ambroys could feel the wolf breathing on the back of his neck, the sensation causing a shiver to ripple through him. A subtle growl colored Banshee's voice as he said, "I think you know what I'm thinking." He waited a moment, then dug his face into the spot where Ambroys's neck met his shoulder, and took a heady breath. Ambroys gasped and leaned into the wolf, feeling the pleasure wash over him.

The Celestial smiled, and coyly said, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Banshee."

The wolf growled into his shoulder, sending another thrill through his body. Banshee's hands moved forward, wrapping around Ambroys's waist and pulling him back against the wolf. "You're trying to get me to beg, aren't you?" Banshee asked. Another growl rumbled through his chest, shaking Ambroys's entire body. The wolf added, "I suppose I don't have a choice then."

~~~

As the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, Banshee set his hat back on his head, having just finished getting dressed. He looked over at Ambroys, reclined in one of the chairs, bathed in the orange light, his shirt tastefully covering his waist as he watched the wolf.

The two shared a warm smile, and Ambroys asked, "So, have I been able to convince you?"

Banshee chuckled. "And then some, my lord. I'm curious how you're going to offer me 'double', as you had said, but I'm excited to find out."

Ambroys couldn't help but laugh, surprising even himself. As Banshee moved towards the door, Ambroys called, "Oh, I'll find a way, I'm sure."

Banshee smiled and tipped his hat to the Celestial, and let himself out. As the door shut, Ambroys lay down on the chair, stretching out, and staring out the window again, glad that things were finally going his way once more.