Tributes

Chapter Seventeen

After his talk with the newly dubbed Christopher, he let the tribute out in the common area. He was unable to resist giving the man's arse a teasing squeeze as he let him out into the wild. The man glared at him but there was a touch of bewilderment to it too. Like he didn't know how to react other than to attack someone for doing that. When it was someone who had the right to, it was confusing Christopher how his reaction should be. Tyreol felt deep amusement at that. 

Still, the man had given him a few things to think over. Christopher was hardly the first man who Tyreol had received who had once walked a path they would have preferred to stick to. Tyreol could think of several tributes, in fact. Most of which had returned to their profession once they had earned the right. Derian, for example, had been a bard and now worked for the fae courts. Flittering from one to another, telling epic stories and creating his own as he went. With Tyreol's mark protecting him, Derian had been to many lands and seen more than he ever would have had he not been a tribute. But being a tribute had not been the path he wanted.

"Heilan," Tyreol called, the fae appearing next to him with the scent of lavender and some purple blossoms falling to the floor from his magic. "Have we heard from Derian recently?" he asked lightly. His heart missing the bard. Being a tribute may not have been what the man wanted, but he had accepted it and was one of Tyreol's more reliable immortal tributes for contact. 

"Derian? Yes, he was with the Greenfolk, last he sent word. He's due a visit in the next decade," Heilan mused, thinking over the last correspondence. "Why do you ask?" It was rare Tyreol asked over certain tributes out of the blue. Usually, it meant they were in danger or up to something that could weaker Tyreol's position. Only the Greenfolk were one of the safer courts for Derian to be playing in. They were only really interesting in dancing and preserving the forest. Derian wasn't a fighter either, so it was unlikely he was causing a problem either. 

"Just thought of him is all," Tyreol shrugged, not unaware of why Heilan was asking. "It would be nice to hear him sing again." He gave a sad smile, thinking about his former tribute. Derian's voice had been beautiful, light and warm. Yet also able to get across the sadness and angry in some poems. He had a beautiful appearance to match as well. Much like Rose, Derian's letters were often full of details of his latest conquests.

"True enough. If you wish, I could send for him? He's never minded making a quick stop before," Heilan offered. When Derian was in the human plane, he always stayed at least one night in Tyreol's bed. The Greenfolk were close enough that it would be simple enough for the man to appear for a night. 

Tyreol was sorely tempted but he shook his head. As much as he wanted to, Tyreol also preferred to not have his immortal tributes around when his new tributes were still coming and settling in. Derian wouldn't be his main concern but it seemed silly to call him over a random urge. He did try to let them live their lives once they were free in the world. His concessions were not that bad, even if a few disagreed. He'd rather not turn another of his immortals against him. 

"No, leave him be. He has always come for his week and I'm sure he will do soon enough. But maybe send a letter to remind him of that?" Tyreol requested, "I would hate him to forget." Too many of his tributes had been skipping out their weeks lately. Soon he would have to do something about it.

"I shall, Master," Heilan bowed before disappearing again. The petals he left behind blowing slightly in the wind.