Chapter Text
Jullus’ jaw ached. It had been clenched for hours, through the entire trip from Garlemald, and he imagined it would be for some time yet as he was jostled along a dirt road in a chocobo cart. Dust kept flying into his eyes and nose, making him cough and his eyes sting, and the heat was utterly oppressive. The Garlean winter was its own danger, but surely this heat was worse; Jullus was sweating through his clothes and felt sticky and uncomfortable.
His friends had told him to consider it an honor. An honor. He scoffed quietly to himself. They all knew it was a vain attempt to take some measure of solace in the situation. Someone was going to be removed, carted away to be the Praetorium Butcher’s personal errand boy, and if Jullus could spare one of the others by going, well… He could take some sick little appreciation in that. Perhaps it was what fate had in store for him after he’d fucked things up so royally and been the first to get himself taken captive by the barbarian contingent.
The cart took him to the gates of the city, where a pair of soldiers guarded the entry.
“Ho, there!” the driver called, and one of the guards stepped forward to intercept them. “Got a passenger here meant to meet someone inside the city. I was told you lot would take care of things?”
“Ah.” The soldier looked into the back of the cart to find Jullus glaring back. “Right. Out of the cart, then, you. Let's go.”
The black-garbed driver gave Jullus a jaunty wave as he stepped down to the steaming sand. The loss of the caravan’s shade was immediately apparent; Jullus felt as if the sun would melt him alive for the moments it took to get from the cart to the shade of the huge stone arch that led into the city. Still, he glanced back to see the cart beginning to turn around as he was led through the gate and into a foreign city.
The inside of the city was sandstone and noise and chaos, nothing like the structure and order of home, the muffled murmur of Garlemald's streets blanketed in snow or the strictly efficient running of businesses and military outposts. Jullus swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the looks he could feel burning into his back as hot as the sun above and instead focused on hurrying after his guide. The sooner he arrived, the sooner he would be out of the public eye and the sun, at least.
The housing district was a maze, a rat's nest of twisting paths and staircases and underpasses. Jullus tried his best to keep his bearings, but was lost within minutes and gave up, simply looking around at the gaudy houses they passed. Some towered far above, perched on cliff-like hills and throwing swaths of shade over the pathways. As he followed the guard, however, Julius crossed a high point and saw the center of the housing district: a glittering pool, separated into various sections with waterfalls feeding in at various points. A pair of garish golden lions flanked the sides of the largest one, and across from that was a smaller pool, raised, with steam rising from the water. Here and there, Eorzeans splashed about, wearing nearly nothing. Still, the water looked invitingly cool, and it was distracting enough he nearly fell behind his guide.
"Don't get lost," the guard barked over his shoulder. "You can sight-see later. My job is to deliver you to Master Valusk, not give a tour."
Right. Jullus set his mouth into a hard line and picked up his pace. He still wanted to get out of the heat more than anything else.
Archon's house was not overly large, though Jullus thought the addition of its own personal steam pool in the yard was a bit ostentatious. It was already hot; what use was a steam pool, especially if one was mere yalms away? Nevertheless, he stood quietly as the guard knocked on the red wooden door.
Archon Valusk opened it. He was dressed entirely differently than Jullus had seen him in Garlemald, in a gauzy white silk shirt that billowed around his arms and over his chest in a deep vee and tiny shorts that made his legs look entirely too long. Cream-gold scales spilled out from the seams and traced a path down the man’s thighs. A thin gold chain hung around his neck, and a small coin pendant with an eye symbol Jullus didn't recognize dangled in the middle of his chest.
"Master Valusk." The Brass Blade nodded. "Your personal aide has finished the trip from the west."
Julius gave a stiff, shallow bow. "Garlemald sends its regards for the assistance provided by the Eorzean Contingent in its hour of need," he recited.
Archon blinked, apparently determining how to react to the duality of this conversation. "…Ah. Yes, I see. Thank you. Um, come in, then." He seemed not completely at ease with the current situation, and Jullus took some petty satisfaction in that.
Jullus followed the order, and the temperature difference was immediately evident a single step through the door. While it was still hot, it was no longer smothering.
"Master Nanarito looks forward to learning how he settles in. He fully supports the assistance of Garlemald's current needs."
"Thank you for escorting him," Archon replied pointedly, and closed the door. He sighed to himself and ran a distracted hand through his hair. "I thought I had a fortnight yet… Aah. Anyway. Welcome to Ul'dah."
Jullus did not want to be welcomed to Ul'dah. Nevertheless, he remained standing, frozen in the entryway, one hand clutching his knapsack of personals like a lifeline. "Thank you," he managed to grind out through gritted teeth. It might have even sounded neutral.
"Um. As I said, they, ah, moved your timeline on me, so I've not completely finished preparing a space for you. My apologies."
What did that mean? Was he to sleep on the floor in the corner like a dog until Valusk deigned to get him a mat or something? Well, he was used to it, at least. It wasn't as if his accommodations in Garlemald for the past few months had been much better, but at least there, there had been a sense of community, overcoming hardship together. This was just humiliating.
"Yes, sir," Jullus managed, lips a tight line.
"'Archon' is fine in general company. I left the 'sir's behind when I retired from the Flames."
What were the Flames? It didn't matter.
"You were in the military?" He hadn't meant to ask; it simply slipped out. It made sense, given Valusk's rumored martial ability, but Jullus could hardly imagine the lounging prettyboy in front of him as a proper soldier, even if he was a terror on the battlefield
Archon gave a little sigh. "A commander. But that was back before the Scions. Anyway, about a place to sleep: I don't have a room empty yet, but I can set up a cot in my own room. Or the couch, though it's less comfortable. Will that serve?"
A… Room? That was ridiculous. There was no reason for Valusk to set aside an entire room for a servant. He must be in the process of clearing enough space to set the cot up in another room, while still keeping everything valuable out of Jullus' reach. That must be why Valusk wanted him close now; he didn't trust Jullus on his own in the space. "Yes, sir."
"Archon," Valusk said.
Jullus did not want to call him "Archon." They were not friends; this was not a casual relationship. If it made Valusk uncomfortable to be reminded that he was holding a servant against his will in his home, all the better. Jullus would take his little venoms where he could, even if they got him in trouble. What else did he have here? "Yes, sir. "What duties would you have me perform, sir?"
Archon looked at him for a moment, then sighed. "I—um, there's not a…specific list. At the moment, anyway."
Terrific. Jullus had been shipped off to be the Butcher's errand boy and the man didn't even have an idea of what Jullus was here to actually do. Why the hells had Jullus even been requested? How was he supposed to prove his worth (and have an excuse to get away from Valusk) if he didn't have anything to do?
"Let's get you some lighter clothes, first."
Jullus knew it was likely necessary, but his stomach twisted at the idea of being put in some scanty clothing like he’d seen on his way through the city, or decked in gaudy Ul'dahn drapery. Still, he had little choice in the matter. “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s go, then.”
“Now?” Jullus had expected to be put to work right away.
Archon gave him an odd look. “Jullus, no offense, but you look like you're about to faint from heat. Think of it as if you’d shown up to Garlemald with no coat. First step: make sure you don't get sick from the weather.”
Well, when he put it like that, it made sense. Jullus nodded. He couldn't say he would be unhappy to cool down, though the prospect of heading back out into the heat was less than ideal.