Vax slowly retreats across the room, driven backwards by the couple slowly pacing towards him, their steps calm and unhurried. They don’t seem displeased to have found an intruder in their room. Quite the opposite - it’s as if they welcome the bit of entertainment that’s appeared, much as a peckish owl welcomes a mouse.
He stops when he’s backed up against the fireplace with nowhere further to retreat. The flames warm the backs of his legs, but he feels far more likely to be burned by the pair in front of him.
He needs to distract them, or at least to draw their attention away from interrogating him.
The best lies are the ones that are partially true.
Vax smiles charmingly, summoning guile. “Gosh, you’re a handsome couple.”
He’s played this game before, plenty of times. A quick bit of flirtation to mask the gesture of reaching for his weapons, and a wink to cover the split-second it takes him to draw his dagger.
Unfortunately, this isn’t a chaotic free-for-all between drunkards in a tavern brawl. The Briarwoods' movements are measured and in absolute tandem; it’s definitely two against one, he’ll have to deal with them as a duo.
Lady Delilah makes a purposeful gesture, and the door slams shut and locks with an audible click. She raises an eyebrow and smiles at Vax’s badly disguised dismay. Shit. An exit down. Looks like he's going out one of the windows, then.
Delilah leans back against the plush canopied bed with an effortless elegance. “Did you arrange for someone to be in our bedroom, my dear?”
She’s obviously talking to her husband. Scanlan would have leapt at the chance to pretend that the ‘my dear’ was directed towards him, but Vax decides discretion is the better part of valor, and chooses to bite his tongue for the moment.
“No,” Sylas rumbles, looking Vax over. “Whatever are you doing in our rooms, ‘man who works for the city?’ What danger could possibly be in our chamber?”
You’re the danger, Vax thinks. But unsweet words aren’t likely to open doors or clear a path.
“I was sent to see if you or the lady needed anything,” he stalls. “Turn down the sheets, fetch a cup of tea, that sort of nicety. Seems like everything’s fine, so I’ll return to my post.”
He begins to turn towards the door but hasn’t gotten even as far as lifting a foot when Sylas Briarwood is suddenly at his back, hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. How had the man moved so quickly?
“You’re a curious one,” Sylas says slowly, consideringly. “I wonder, does anyone know where you are right now?”
“Sylas,” the lady calls, giving her husband a pointed look. “We are here to make allies. And to be seen as the good neighbors we are, of course.” Delilah smiles, looking calmly at her husband as if they catch and capture intruders every night in their bedroom. “It would be…inauspicious to mark such a special occasion with violence.”
From the careless way she’s speaking, she might be discussing what jewelry to wear with her gown, selecting various sparkling cruelties with which to adorn herself.
Maybe while they’re speaking with each other, Vax might drop to the ground and launch himself towards one of the windows. He's confident he can hide once he's outside, the shadows have ever been his friends.
But, Sylas’s hands tighten on his shoulders, as if the lord is sensing his thoughts. “As you say, my love,” he says, acquiescing. “But this one isn’t to be taken into our confidences.”
That doesn’t sound entirely promising, but it does seem as if the conversion is pathing towards possible freedom. Perhaps he can yet talk his way out of this situation.
“I did mean it, what I said before,” Vax says into the silence, speaking to the silhouette of the flames flickering on the wall. Complimenting the lady directly might incur the wrath of her husband, and turning to look over his shoulder at Sylas will leave him awkwardly posed if he needs to flee. “You two are incredibly good looking.”
Most nobles don’t like such brash behavior; he's seen plenty of upper-crust folk curls their lips in disgust every time their party does something natural or fun, like ball tag. So, surely these two will feel similar distaste.
He waits to be released, or even tossed out.
Instead, to his surprise, he hears a considering hum from Delilah. Sylas leaves off gripping one of his shoulders to slowly brush a fingertip down his cheek, a shockingly cold caress. He gasps, startled by the chill of Sylas’s touch, and feels the man chuckle against his back.
Vax darts a gaze behind him to the lord, and then meets the lady’s eyes: they’re both watching him as if he's suddenly become far more interesting.
It should fill him with confidence that he’s regained more control over the situation, but Vax still feels caught and pinned, a fluttering little bird in front of a sleek pair of panthers.
At least he’s finally succeeded in causing a distraction. The Briarwoods are now looking at each other, engaging in the sort of silent conversation strong partners are capable of, clearly making some sort of decision.
Their attention is diverted. Vax could run.
It would be the work of a moment to kick backwards, sweeping coals into the fireplace to make a blaze of light. While the Briarwoods are shielding their eyes or looking at the fireplace, he’ll dive to the shadows and then out the window. He might not even have to resort to saying ‘chenga.’ Once outside, he can safely rejoin the rest of the Vox Machina. Vex. …Keyleth.
On the other hand…well, the idea of telling Gilmore when they eventually get to that dinner, that he’d seduced his way out of such a tight situation, is an attractive proposition. And it’d been honest flattery to say that the Briarwoods are a very good looking pair.
He jumps when Sylas places his chin on Vax’s shoulder and speaks directly into his ear, breath tickling his skin and making warmth prickle in his stomach.
“Not keeping you from your important duties for Uriel, are we?” Sylas asks, more than a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “Did you have somewhere you needed to be?”
Vax allows himself to relax back against the other man, letting himself be supported, leaning against his broad chest. “I don’t need to be anywhere but here, my lord. At least for a bit.”
Sylas smiles down at him and kisses the tip of a pointed ear, and Vax can’t help the small noise that escapes him. Lord Briarwood laughs, a low, throaty rumbling vibration that the half-elf can feel in his chest with how he’s pressed up against the man. “Finally,” Sylas croons softly. “An entirely honest response.”
Delilah eases herself off silken purple sheets and walks to them, a purposeful sway in her stride that Vax watches with appreciation. As she approaches, Sylas threads his hand through Vax’s hair and lifts his head, presenting him to his wife. Making a gift of him.
She presses herself against Vax, but it’s so that she can stretch over his shoulder, reaching her husband for a lengthy kiss. Vax shifts needily, caught between them, wanting more. Delilah absently pats his chest, snaking sharp nails down the front of his shirt to trace small circles. Sylas runs a hand up and down his thigh, firm but teasing touches that do nothing to satisfy. He tries to reach for either of them, and Sylas leaves off stroking his leg to give him a soft slap to his backside, lingering to knead afterwards.
At last the Briarwoods break apart, looking into each other’s eyes with equal parts warmth and possessiveness.
“You did promise me an interesting evening, my love,” Delilah drawls, and the Briarwoods laugh at some private joke.
Vax clears his throat, with just a hint of impatience. “I don’t suppose you’re speaking to me.”
The lady shakes her head, still smiling. “No, not to you. I wouldn’t be calling you ‘my love.’ My toy, perhaps.”
Lord Briarwood places two fingers underneath his chin and tilts up his face, running a hand along Vax’s neck. “Not ‘perhaps.’” There’s no warmth in his eyes now, none of the genuine affection that had been present when looking at his wife. The possessiveness, however, remains, and makes Vax shiver with its intensity.
“Our toy.” Delilah agrees, watching her husband with interest. “Sylas, do be careful, darling. The evening is yet young.” She reaches out a hand so that Vax can rest his cheek in her palm, helping support him. She further tugs open Vax’s shirt, running a finger across his now exposed collarbone.
“Hold still,” Sylas says softly, voice like caramel. As if they weren’t already holding Vax snugly in place. “By the way, did you happen to give us your name, when you were lying to us earlier?”
Anticipation and nervousness flutter in Vax’s stomach. It’s difficult to think of a convincing lie with the way Sylas is looking at him with amusement and mockery, holding his head back, with Delilah stroking her hand over his face. When Vax opens his mouth the man shakes his head and cuts him off.
“I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Sylas lowers his mouth to Vax’s neck, kisses the hollow of his throat. “Just hold still for us, there’s a good boy.”
He kisses Vax’s neck once, twice, quick chaste brushes of his lips across the half-elf’s racing pulse. And then, if they’ve exchanged some unspoken signal, the Briarwoods tighten their grip on his hair, on his shoulders, on his arm. Sylas drags his tongue up Vax’s neck, from the edge of his shoulder up to his earlobe, and then traces back down in a series of rough bites, dragging his teeth in time to Vax’s gasps and groans. The half-elf holds as still as he can, shaking in their hold, moaning helplessly as Sylas nuzzles into the side of neck, his goatee dragging over sensitized bitten skin.
“You’re only teasing yourself,” Vax hears Delilah murmur. “But I’ve always admired your self-control, along with your occasional lack thereof.” He can feel Sylas smile against his neck, but it’s quickly masked with another sucking bite and rasp of the man’s tongue that has him arching up as much as he can under their restraining hands, toes curling in his boots.
Eventually, too soon, Sylas withdraws, sighing. And then pats Vax’s cheek with a quick chuckle.
“Well, aren’t you being good for us? I knew you’d be sweet. And without any extra “persuasion” either.”
A part of Vax that he doesn’t want to examine feels dizzied with how wanted he feels, caught between them both, being desired and used.
The lady reaches over his shoulder to kiss her husband again, a more heated intimacy this time. She drags her nails down Vax’s chest even as Sylas rolls his hips against his backside, a slow grind that has him gasping and stuttering his own hips forward into Delilah.
He well and truly feels like their toy at the moment, a thought that has him flushing and biting his lip.
Drawing blood.
Sylas spins him around with a snarl, and grabs his bitten lip between his teeth, drinking down Vax’s eager noises as if sipping a fine Tal'Dorei rosé. Drinking down his sounds like….like bl-
“Not yet, Sylas.” Lady Delilah reminds, even as she slips her hands up under Vax's untucked shirt to trace sharp patterns down his stomach, dipping fingertips underneath the waist of his breeches. Not yet? For how much longer are they going to tease him?
“Please,” Vax begs, leaning back against her, then shifting to press forward against Sylas. “Please.”
Sylas kisses his forehead, a mockery of comfort, before snaking a hand between Vax and his wife to pull the half-elf close to himself, so that Vax is straddling one of his thighs. Vax immediately tries to grind against him, but Sylas stops him easily, a strong grip holding his hips in place.
“You’ll take what we give you,” Lord Briarwood tells him, “But you do plead prettily. Perhaps you’ve a bit of a silver-tongue after all.”
“How lucky for you that he has nothing silver about him. Not that it would hurt you, my love, but it might show a bit more preparedness.” Delilah observes dryly. “He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for.”
Her words are like getting hit in the face with a bucket of cold water: because they’re true.
There’s something going on between the Briarwoods, an exchange of secrets that leaves Vax unwilling to go any further.
Sylas and Delilah seem to sense the change in his mood immediately. Delilah relinquishes her hold on him, even as Sylas removes his hand from Vax’s hair and helps him stand.
Lady Deliah sighs as if with regret, but her face shows nothing but cool detachment. “Is playtime over, then?”
“Yes.” Vax answers promptly, decisively. He steps forwards away from the Briarwoods and turns to the task of straightening out his clothing as best as he can. His banquet finery is looking a bit rumpled, and, he’s sure, so is he. “I’ll thank you both for a lovely evening, but, I do need to be going.”
He moves towards the door, and freezes as he feels Sylas advance with him, following. They’re back as they were at the start of things, then.
“My friends will be looking for me,” Vax cautions, letting them know that he also has allies. “Although, I do suppose I’m going to have to explain why the side of my neck is marked up.”
Both the Briarwoods burst into laughter. The open cruelty in the sound sends ice shooting down Vax’s spine.
“My very dear boy,” Sylas says, still laughing, and catches him once again, holding him with an arm around his waist. Delilah lounges on the luxurious canopied bed, chuckling indulgently as she watches her husband.
Sylas rests his mouth against the rogue’s frantic pulse. Vax, despite his best efforts not to, trembles slightly with dread, his heartbeat jumping against the other man’s lips.
“You’re worried about explaining marks on your neck?” Sylas purrs, and tightens his grip, his eyes beginning to glow like molten gold. “We can help you with that.”