#andy and quynh were bored and wanted to go drinking. yusuf had work to do but he brought it with him bc he can filter noise like no one else | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

technicallycleverdetective · 4 years

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Inspired by the outsider POV fic prompts by @mewbotz. On this occasion I have written a fic based on this one: -people at a market that the immortals frequent who gossip about the strange group of travellers and have betting pools on who’s together. people fight over their favorite ships. the blacksmith thinks andy and nicky are together. the baker is set on andy and quynh. homophobia does not exist.

It’s not exactly as the prompt says...but close enough :D I hope you enjoy.

Iliana glanced across the room, ducking her head upon noticing that the Greek man was looking around.

“I tell you, they came into the jewellery shop together,” she whispered to her companions. “He complimented her on every piece she tried. When I asked about the bracelet on her arm, she told me that it was a gift from her beloved.”

“Why do you assume that he is her beloved? Because they bought jewellery together?” Markos asked, irritably tossing a few coins into the centre of the table. “I saw her with the other girl in the weapon smith’s shop. Tell me why two women would be looking for axes and spears if they had men to do it for them.”

Iliana scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It is not so far-fetched. Between the two of us, I am the better at wielding a knife. Why shouldn’t the same be true of them?”

Markos glared at her from beneath his thick eyebrows as Katina put a hand over her mouth, concealing a smile.

“I must say,” Giannis piped up. “When they booked into the guest house, the two Greeks did take a room together. I thought the other woman was their maid.”

Markos blew air between his lips. “She must be a highly trusted maid, very close to her mistress, from what I saw. I doubt she is the sort who cleans and sews.”

“That has been established, Markos,” Iliana remarked, sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “They are all evidently warriors. The matter at hand is the exact nature of their relationships to each other.”

“And you think the two Greeks are a couple? How original, Iliana. Do you suppose the other two make a second pair?” “I’ve never seen them together so I’m not sure” she retorted with dignity.

“I actually think the Greek man and the…” Katina paused and looked over her shoulder, her head turning back swiftly and her cheeks pinking. “And the dark-haired woman may be a couple. They were in the wood-carver’s shop together and seemed to enjoy one another’s company greatly. They were like a pair of children exploring the wooden horses and the board games.”

“That speaks to friendship” Markos muttered.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to lose” Antonios accused. Markos gasped aloud at his insolence.

“My sister and I would play with toys. I would not embrace anyone but my wife” he declared, a little loudly considering the need to be clandestine.

“Did you see them embrace?” Antonios asked, leaning forward with interest. This was new information and he was glad that he had held off on placing his money into the pool.

“I did” Markos said proudly.

“What was the nature of it?” Christos asked, speaking up for the first time.

“Well,” Markos screwed his face up as he sought to recall. “They were looking at the axes. The Greek one was testing the weight of them and her companion said something…I don’t know, I was far away and I think she spoke in another language. Anyway the Greek one laughed and put an arm around her shoulders. I think she kissed her.” “Really?” Christos asked, alarmed. His money had been placed elsewhere.

“Where? Cheek, head, lips?” Antonios demanded.

Markos typically liked to be the centre of attention, and even more so to be right, but he was uncomfortable with this interrogation.

“They were turned away from me,” he protested. “It was on the face somewhere.”

“It could be sisterhood” Christos said. Markos fixed his dark eyes on him.

“That is nonsense. Why would you say such a thing?”

“Because,” Christos declared triumphantly. “I saw her embrace the other man, the one with curly hair.”

He smiled at the thrill that went around the table. The only news of the second man had come from Giannis, who saw him tending the horses in the stable by the guest house, and Antonios who sold him leather coats and shoes. He was alone on both occasions and so no-one else had yet factored him into their bets.

“Do you think…?” Katina began, her voice trailing off.

“I knew it,” Giannis interrupted. “Even when the Greek was speaking, I could tell she was the power behind the throne. He kept looking for her approval.”

“You think she has…All of them in her bed?” Markos spluttered.

“It would explain why they took the younger girl to the room with them. The man was taking care of the horses, but he could have joined them later” Giannis replied confidently.

Iliana allowed her eyes to wander across the room, running her gaze across the table of visitors. The older man had the dark skin of an outdoorsman, the kind she had always been attracted to, and a head of dark curls that she would love to run her fingers through. The younger one had the most impeccable manners she’d ever encountered in a man, endlessly generous to his companion and polite to her. The girl had a wicked smile and an air of mischief that Iliana was endeared to. And the tall, elegant woman held the attention of them all. What a woman, she thought, travelling the world with three lovers. It was the stuff of dreams.

“Don’t look so admiring” Markos remarked. She turned away from the scene and smiled at him. Her life might be boring in comparison to the mysterious strangers, but at least it was steady and comfortable. It was a good exchange.

“Does this mean you win the bet, dear?” she asked.

“There’s no proof,” Christos stepped in quickly. “It’s just a theory. Why would the Greeks pretend to be a couple when they arrived if they’re all together?”

“Travelling so much, I’m sure they must have encountered areas less welcoming to their lifestyle,” Iliana said. “I too would be cautious when entering a new place.”

Christos grumbled and took a swig from his mug, his frown growing at the discovery that it was empty.

“Giannis, be a good host” he requested, pushing it towards him. Giannis dutifully gathered the mugs and brought them to the bar, setting about the task of refilling them.

“We should ask Eva,” Iliana suggested. “The men were working with her today. She might have more information."

“I hope so, because with how much they bought today, I think they’re preparing to leave,” Antonios warned. “This is the last night that the bet can be won.”

Markos tapped his fingers on the table and then turned. “The nature of this embrace you saw, Christos, what was it?”

“He picked her up off the ground and spun her around.”

“That is not an embrace. That is a game I play with my children. None of you have seen anything more compelling than I have, and since this is the last night of our bet…”

Markos grinned and started to pull the money towards him.

“The men are kissing” Giannis reported, coming back with two mugs in each hand.

The group of six looked, careless of subtlety, and saw that Giannis had spoken true. The curly-haired man had moved around the table to sit beside the Greek, kissing him on the mouth. The two women were standing to leave, talking in their strange language and laughing as they said goodbye. The Greek woman slipped an arm around her companion’s shoulders as they walked past the table and disappeared upstairs.

“Does that count?” Markos asked hopefully.

“Oh, that is not proof,” Christos said, clearly enjoying having the sandal on the other foot. “Did anyone bet on the men?”

A guilty silence followed and Markos groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“I’ll take this to cover the drinks” Giannis said mischievously, pulling the pile of coins towards him.

Iliana reached over and petted her husband’s arm. “Never mind, dear, you were closer than I was” she said comfortingly.

They finished their drinks and the married couples bid their friends goodnight. Giannis rested his head against Antonios’ shoulder as he waited for his last guests to go to bed and let him do the same, his partner idly playing with his fingers.

Markos kindly held the door open for Katina and Christos, and Iliana followed them, joining them on the street for farewell embraces and turning to find that her husband hadn’t quite made it out after them. She was about to inquire about his whereabouts when he appeared, face flushed with pleasure as he embraced their friends.

“They told me that my bet was correct” he said as he and his wife took their leave.

“Who did?”

“The two men. They must have heard us. They said I was right and the women are a couple.”

He sounded so happy and Iliana smiled. Her husband always liked to be the most intelligent man in the room.

“I’m glad for you, my love,” she said, looping her arm through his. “But I’m afraid that glory will be your only prize on this occasion.”

“You told them?” Andromache asked incredulously, laughing as she passed the wine to Quynh.

“What harm does it do?” Yusuf asked. “We’re leaving tomorrow. And he was so invested in it. I don’t want him to lose his house over it.” “If he loses his house over a bet, he had it coming” Andromache replied, with her usual brand of tough love.

“Did you hear them? They took it so seriously,” Quynh said, pressing a hand to her chest. “My heart! It was adorable.”

“They’re good people,” Nicolo said sincerely. “They have been so kind to us, even if they do treat us like horses.”

That raised a laugh from his companions.

“Speaking of horses,” Andromache said, levering herself up from the semi-horizontal position she found herself in and fixing the boys with a slightly bleary warning look. “We have to set off early tomorrow so do not stay up late.”

“We won’t if you won’t” Yusuf said cheerfully.

“We haven’t been missing anything” Nicolo added, sticking the knife in further.

Andromache sighed and looked between the three people she loved most in the world. “You were all sent to torture me,” she declared. “Quynh, come on. Time to go.”

Her partner lifted herself off the floor in one elegant move that made Andromache’s stomach flip a little. Despite her steadily growing desire to get to bed and not sleep, Quynh saw fit to prolong the torture by kissing the boys’ heads and wishing them a good night before following Andromache. She practically pulled her beloved across the hall by her arm.

Quynh was laughing when the door of their room finally closed behind them.

“You are a terror” Andromache accused, pushing her against the wood and caging Quynh between her arms.

“I know” she said unapologetically.

“I cannot believe you forbid me to touch you for an entire week just to stop some peasants from winning a bet.”

“You went along with it, dear,” Quynh pointed out. “Besides, I’m all yours now.”

Andromache growled without meaning to, the last of her already thin restraint snapping.

“You’re damn right” she said, pulling Quynh over to the bed as her lover’s giggles filled the air.

Despite her stern warnings of the previous night, it was the girls who were subjected to the embarrassing knocks on the door and the calls of “Wake up, we have to go” come morning.

Andromache thought it was worth the price.

#the old guard #i wrote a thing #i was going to put this on AO3 #but it proved difficult to tag #so it is here instead :)#the old guard fic

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