The Basilisk's Den

Featuring Flóki and Amadán

Mentions of Rogue

Spring, Year 766 of the New Age

Oakfern, The Warren

Amadán

     This wasn’t like him -- no, this wasn’t like him at all. But, Amadán  reminded himself, this was for Rogue. Something certainly wasn’t right  with her and this fellow. Besides, Amadán only wanted to speak with him.  Well, “confront” or “give him a piece of his mind” was probably more  accurate, but too strong, he decided.

    Rogue had merely  given him a vague direction as to where the stag resided. Amadán was  starting to realize, as he slowed his pace, he should’ve asked her for  more detail before marching off to find a complete stranger. All he knew  was the name Flóki.

Flóki

     Resting on a rock, Flóki was playing with his magic, making an orb of  water roll about on the surface of the rock, rolling it over himself,  rolling it up the rock, down the rock, giggling somewhat, when the water  rolled over an insect, taking it with it until the little critter  obviously drowned inside the watery orb it could not escape. Sometimes  it was frustrating, Flóki felt he should be able to already do more than  he could, he had the knowledge, but like there was an invisible cap, he  just couldn’t go as far as he wanted.

    Pascal had said  power came with age, he probably was right, but still it frustrated  Flóki to wait. Killing little animals was only a small amends to feeling  like you weren’t able to use your entire prowess. ”Look at this guy...looks like he’s searching for someone.” Flóki suddenly heard the voice of Buddy, turning his head to where his  tarantula had pointed him and indeed, a dark stag with green paint was  wandering about somewhat aimlessly. Flóki giggled to himself. How nice.  Maybe he’d be a good source of entertainment.

    “Can I  heeeelp you by any chance?” the young stag so called, a toothy grin on  his lips, while he lifted both brows at the other.  

Amadán

     Caught off guard, Amadán halted abruptly and looked around. He let  out a breath of relief when he noticed a stag nearby, perched on rock.  The stag’s paint was somewhat unnerving -- the neon grin only seemed to  grow wider by the way the stag was grinning himself -- but Amadán  started to come closer.

    “Oh! Y-yes, well… I-I’m looking for…” He trailed off when he realized the stag had a tarantula with him. He stared for a few seconds, one ear twitching; was that his pet? He wasn’t so much uneasy as he was surprised. The stag as a whole already painted a rather peculiar picture in his mind.

     Amadán cleared his throat and looked back to the stranger. “...Ah,  I’m l-looking for s-someone named F-F-Flóki.” He did wonder if this  fellow was Flóki himself, but he wasn’t quite what Amadán had been  expecting.

Flóki

    A soft  little giggle escaped the stag, when the other jumped upon suddenly  finding himself spoken to. Oh, this was no doubt going to be great fun,  Flóki already was quite certain, which was great, because the day  already had looked so boring. Watching the other come closer, Flóki  regarded him through sparkling eyes, a toothy grin on his lips. The stag  was older than him, but he had a very shy, even timid air about him.

     “Fooooor…” Flóki just repeated, when the brown stag paused,  apparently having spotted Buddy, who was crawling to to make himself  comfortable on top of his head. Flóki hardly able to hold back a bit of a  giggle, oh my, this guy apparently had next to no backbone it seemed.

     “I-I-Is that s-s-sooo?” Flóki said, mocking the stutter in Ama’s  voice clearly, followed by yet another giggle, “You talk like an idiot,  you know this? Nobody gonna take you seriouuus eveeeer like that.” he  added in a somewhat singing tone, “Why you want to see Flóki, hmmm?”

Amadán

     Insulting his speech impediment was a low blow; Amadán hadn’t heard a  comment like that since he was a fawn, and it sent his dark fur  prickling indignantly. “W-what… I-I’m not…!” He bit his tongue. The stag  was younger than him, but Amadán suddenly felt very vulnerable. Not  wanting to give him any extra reason to mock his voice, Amadán settled  for a bitter glare.

    As he listened to the question, it was  admittedly unnerving to keep holding the stag’s gaze, but Ama couldn’t  quite seem to look away. His shredded ear flickered again.

     “It’s a-about a friend,” he replied somewhat slowly. “She, w-well, she  works f-for him, I bel-lieve. I don’t suppose...” he hesitated, no  longer sure he wanted an answer, “t-that’d be you?”

Flóki

     The tall young stag giggled when he saw just how much his mockery  riled up the other male, who tried his best to not make the situation  any worse by giving Flóki even more fuel to throw his fire with at him.  “A-a-are too!” he just mocked again, followed by another giggle,  followed by grinning toothily when eventually Ama decided to best stay  with an icey glare, instead of trying to talk himself out of the  situation.

    “Hmmm, a friend?” Flóki then said, ears  wiggling, “What sort of friend? Ohhhh, you got the hots for her, don’t  you? Hihihihi, the hotssss - she like you too? Apparently not enough,  otherwise you wouldn’t have to come here, because she prefers to hang  out with another stag.” he smirked deviously, followed by yet another  sudden giggle, “A perceptive one! And who might youuu beee?”

Amadán

     Amadán felt his pelt grow hot at the stranger’s suggestion. “N-n-no!  Of course n-not, she’s… s-she’s just a f-friend,” he hastily protested,  feeling childish. Him, fancy Rogue? He shook his head, perhaps a bit too vigorously.

    He then felt a cold knot in his stomach. So this was the right stag… Amadán tried in vain to push away his growing doubts and recall his confidence from earlier.

     “My n-name is Amadán,” he introduced when prompted, putting an  unconscious effort into saying his own name with a steady voice. “I  c-came to talk to you ab-bout Rogue.” He’d rehearsed it better on his  way over, but suddenly he couldn’t remember what he’d wanted to say.  Instead he had to swallow before lamely continuing, “I-I-I don’t like… I  d-don’t like how I’ve h-heard you t-t-treat her.”

Flóki

     Flóki just giggled again, when the other stag tried to talk himself  out of the situation, yet only made it worse with his nervous reaction.  What a funny fellow he was, Flóki was beginning to quite enjoy him,  stubborn as he was. It wasn’t always fun to be told yes and amen,  sometimes it was fun too, to have somebody trying to say no and despite  his pathetic performance, Flóki had to give him the fact he at least  tried to stand up for himself.

    When he finally revealed  himself as the one the other had been looking for, Flóki almost saw how  his heart dropped, while the same time he forced himself not to falter.  Hm. He almost was starting to see what Rogue apparently saw in him. He  listened to him speak with perked ears and twisted eyes not leaving  Amadán’s, his tail merely twitching a bit, but otherwise the tall stag  stayed utterly motionless, that is, until the other was done and he  burst out laughing.

    “Wellwellwell…” he then eventually  said, smoothly getting up and with a few swift moves coming down from  his perch, “How you’ve heard? Heard? You believe all you hear? Hmmm, do  you?” he said, brushing past the other, “What if SHE likes the way I  treat her?”

Amadán

    The  sudden eruption of laughter made Amadán flinch, and he proceeded to  unconsciously shift on his toes. He wasn’t at all sounding like the  honorable hero defending his friend, as he’d pictured; more like a runt  trying to stand up to a fawnhood bully.

    Amadán’s jaw dropped at the stag’s suggestion, and a brief twinge of anger managed to restore his resolve. “Like it? Who would e-ever want to be treated like a-a-a personal servant—“  But it was gone as soon as it had come; Amadán cut off when Flóki  brushed by, body stiffening. The tusked stag was so agile in his  movements, almost snake-like, he thought; it gave him an anxious chill as though he’d just walked into a jaguar’s trap.

     If Amadán hadn’t been struggling for words before, he certainly was  then. “I-I-I just… I mean, she… s-she didn’t seem very h-h-happy about  it t-to me.”

Flóki

    The  tall stag giggled somewhat, when the other gave a gasp at his words, a  humming sound escaping him, before he said: “I dunno, maaaybe ask your  friend, Rogue?” he just purred, “She’s staying with me, after all and.  Not. With. You.” he added, followed by yet another giggle, when finally  he stopped brushing around the other stag like a snake winding itself  around it’s prey and instead just turned to face him, a twisted sparkle  in his dark eyes that for some reason seemed to hardly blink, if at all.

     “Did she, hmmmmm, why she seemed perfeeectly happy to me.” Floki then  said, his head slowly tilting from one side to the other, “Why do you  think you need to speak for her, hm? You hardly can speak for yourself,  what makes you think you can speak for her?” he asked, taking a step  closer, so their noses were almost touching, “You got spunk, spunk  spunk. I think I’ll keep you too.” he grinned with a giggling chuckle  rumbling in his throat.

Amadán

     Amadán felt his breath catch in this throat when the stag came so  close. He’d have flinched back, but he couldn’t bring himself to move,  or to respond; he was frozen in place by Flóki’s dark stare. Every move  the stag made was so entirely audacious that Amadán had never felt less  in control -- or more scattered. It seemed Flóki knew exactly was he was  doing, but what truly came to strike fear in Amadán was how clearly  natural it was for him.

    Suddenly Rogue was entirely forgotten and he was worried only for himself.

     “K-keep… keep me?” Amadán eventually echoed in astonishment. Some  small, beaten down part of him begged him one last time to protest, to  defend himself, or better yet, to run and pretend this bizarre meeting  had never happened. But instead out of cowardice he only asked,  “K-k-keep me for w-what?”

Flóki

     Another chuckle rumbled within the stag’s throat, when he heard the  other speak, his voice quivering while he seemed absolutely and utterly  frozen in fear. He could practically feel how every muscle in Amadáns  body screamed for him to run, but like a mouse in front of a snake his  body would not obey and he stood there, unmoving. It was great, Flóki  hardly could recall having had so much fun in quite some time.

     “Yeeeessss…” the stag said in a hissing tone, while he hummed some  pointless tune in his throat, not letting the other male out of his  eyes. Did he even blink once? It wasn’t quite certain with how he stared  at the other, his lips stretching into a toothy, twisted grin, when  finally Amadán found his speech again, but all he could say was a weary  question. What a good boy. What a good boy indeed. They’d have much  fun. 

    “So I can make you great. Just like Rogue. You  pathetic, stuttering little runt. You excuse for a stag. I’ll make you  great, I’ll turn you into something meaningful.” he purred, “All I ask  in return is for you to be mine. Mine alone. I treat my pets well, you  know, if you’re a good boy, that is. If you’re a bad  boy...hm...accidents happen, y’know. A lot of them. Maybe not to you,  but what about Rogue? What about her fawn, hm?” he giggled again, “Aw,  don’t let me scare you, I’m just plaaaaay-ing, you be mine and I make  you great and maaaaybeee, maaaaybe you can even have her, if you make me  happy, hmmmm?”

Amadán

     Mind reeling, Amadán opened his mouth as if to say something but heard  nothing come out. Make him ‘great,’ the stag had said; a long-forgotten  voice somewhere deep within him, the voice of a lonely child, was eager  to agree with gullible enthusiasm. It made Amadán’s stomach twist,  knowing some part of him was still so ambitious that it would urge him  to even consider such a ridiculous--

    His thoughts shattered the moment Flóki mentioned accidents.

     “Y-y-you wouldn’t,” Amadán choked, knowing full well the threats  weren’t empty. Everything in the tall stag’s devilish grin promised him  that. Amadán’s body felt weak as he realized Flóki had him pinned; the  jaws had snapped shut. There was no walking out now, not if it meant his  friend or her child would be punished for it.

    Finally he  broke his gaze away as the stag finished speaking, only to let it fall  to the ground. His thoughts had collapsed. Whatever being this crook’s  ‘pet’ meant, he had no desire to find out... but he had far less of a  desire to meet whatever misfortune was being dangled over his head. He  was no hero, he was nothing but a damned coward.

    Without looking up, Amadán said in resignation, “I… und-d-derstand.”

Flóki

     A low giggle rumbled within Flóki’s throat, when he saw the stag  struggle. He apparently had just pushed the buttons he had wanted to  push. Touched the meek stag where it hurt most. Every stag wanted  greatness, every stag wanted to be something, Amadán no doubt was no  exception and somewhere, hidden deep within the stuttering little mess  he was lay a stag who wanted to be more, who wanted to be heard.

     And then he shattered, chained himself to the tall stag, making him  giggle to himself with excitement, who would’ve thought that today would  end up so much fun and with a new pet to play even! What a wonderful  day! His stuttering words made him giggle even more, for it was clear to  hear that Amadán knew he would and oh yes, he would.

     “Veeeery good, you’re a veeeery good boy. We’ll no doubt get along  great.” Flóki purred, brushing his tail about the other stag, like a  snake caressing his body, “Hmm, I expect you at my den every morning and  when I call for you, I expect you to come. I expect you to do as I say  and not question...are we clear about that, hmmm?” he hummed, “We’ll  have so much fun together, ohhh yes, we will.” he snickered.  

Amadán

    Flóki’s maniacal giggling kept tightening the knot in Amadán’s stomach further. Gealach, what  sort of hole had he just dug for himself, agreeing to play into this  scheme? His skin tensed under the touch of Flóki’s tail, wanting nothing  more than to get far, far away from that wicked smile – a smile that  inarguably proclaimed I win.

    As he listened his  tongue seemed to twist itself over on itself endlessly, keeping him from  giving any more acknowledgement than a solemn nod. To come when he was  called, carry out his orders, not question a thing – the sound of it  alone was humiliating.

    Amadán couldn’t seem to meet  Flóki’s eyes again now that they’d broken away; rather, he felt  compelled to look anywhere else. The courage that had led him there,  fully convinced it would last, had shrunken to the point it could no  longer hold up the weight of his own gaze. He should’ve known it would  fail. He should’ve known. ’Give him a piece of your mind,’ indeed, he thought bitterly; or better yet, give him the whole thing wrapped in a bow and let him clip on a leash.

    They would have “fun,” the stag had said… The last thing Amadán wanted was to find out what that meant.