assassin pavel and prince artyom 1

[10:18 PM] Pavel Morozov thinks that the prince is probably ignoring him.

He's been sitting in the corner of the sitting room, which is in a fancy little tower chamber and actually has no corners, except those lent to it by the furniture; it's very boring, listening to Prince Artyom's advisor go through the list of things that Pavel needs to do today, but for some reason introducing the new bodyguard has fallen somewhere under horse-riding lessons, dinner plans, and the weather off the coast. Admittedly, storms interrupting trade and overturning a ship full of soldiers was probably fairly important, but... and the prince had hardly taken a look at him, either! Hmph. He should be pleased, as a spy, that he was so unremarkable, but couldn't he get at least a smile or a nod?

Pavel's not really upset, of course, mostly just bored, but god, is he bored. No wonder the prince looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than here-- "Lastly," says the majordomo, and looks over at Pavel, who straightens up and tries to look professional, not bored and irritated, "His Highness has arranged for you to have a new bodyguard, considering the rising tensions with Krasnye Vorota. This is Pavel Athos, who has a very distinguished resumeé behind him; he will sleep in your quarters and accompany you everywhere."

Pavel, at a gesture, rises to his feet and bows deeply to the prince, and says, "I am at your service, my lord, though, eh, hopefully you won't need me, yes?" He flashes a smile at the prince, very charming, and a little wink.

[10:28 PM] Artyom Alexovich is really terribly bored. Okay, that's not entirely true. He's also very curious! Meeting new people, always something exciting, but it's taking an awful long time to even get to that part, and he was reading this morning, and he was at a really exciting place in his book, and mostly he'd just like to get back to his study and finish what he was doing. And besides... this is far from the first time he's been introduced to a new personal servant or bodyguard, and it won't be the last, and that gets old sometimes. Especially when none of the previous have ever been very interesting. Mostly they just silently did their jobs and never met his eyes. Which, you know, kinda what you're supposed to do with royalty, but... it can be a bit disheartening, sometimes.

And anyways, this chair is rather stiff and uncomfortable and he's been here for ages and the advisor's voice drones on endlessly, it's hard to pay attention. God forbid Artyom started to stare off elsewhere, and think of other things, like where the direction his book may be going, oh, how is that plot thread going to be resolved?

Finally, though, they've worked their way through his schedule and the updates on local news, and the introduction of his new bodyguard is in order. Artyom snaps himself out of his daydreams, and readjusts himself in his seat, sitting up straight, mantle falling back behind one of his shoulders. He raises an eyebrow at the name- a little odd for a surname, isn't it? The given name sounds local, but the surname sticks out like a sore thumb. But, ah, beside the point, isn't it?

He nods as the man bows, presents himself at Artyom's service, and cracks a playful little joke with such a charming smile that the prince can't help but let his face split into a soft, friendly smile. Maybe this won't be so boring, this time?

[10:33 PM] Pavel Morozov is pleased to see that smile there, even if the majordomo looks a little scandalized that he's joking already, and his own smile spreads wider as he straightens up from his bow. Don't worry, Artyom, this won't be so boring at all!

"... In any case, please try not to make Sir Athos' job any harder for him than it needs to be," the majordomo tells Artyom. "He can also read and write, so if you need someone to take notes for you in meetings, he is available for scribing duties."

Behind the majordomo, Pavel tries to catch Artyom's eye, then make an exaggerated yawning expression regarding the majordomo's rambling, which continues on, listing all of Pavel's skills, which seem to include almost everything a prince could ever need, besides food and tailoring.

[10:38 PM] Artyom Alexovich's smile grows as well when Pavel's spreads to a grin, but then the majordomo goes on in a way that makes Artyom's pale olive cheeks tint a little red- he's not that troublesome! ... Usually. He's just a bit clumsy and curious, sometimes!

Aaaand then comes the extra boring part of the introduction and my God, does Artyom really need to know all of these things? Can't it just be assumed, or mention the things he can't or won't do instead? But there's a movement behind the majordomo that catches the prince's eye, in time to see Pavel give an exaggerated fake yawn. And that makes Artyom stifle a snort and bite his lip to keep himself from smiling again- it only half works, and he quickly looks back at the majordomo with a slightly sheepish expression probably betraying his wandering attention.

[10:41 PM] Pavel Morozov is outright grinning for a moment, before the majordomo turns to glare at his perfectly straight and serious face. Who, him, sir? He's not done a single thing wrong in his life, sir. Joined his town's guard at the age of three, sir, and never took so much as a sweet roll as a bribe, sir.

"... Prince Artyom, you have three hours before your riding lessons. I can see we won't be able to use them on anything productive. Go... show Sir Athos your study or something," the majordomo tells him, a little despairing, and turns to leave Artyom and Pavel alone, with one last bow before he goes.

[10:53 PM] Artyom Alexovich looks even more sheepish and maybe just a bit ashamed at the light scolding he receives, cheeks reddening. Oops. Well, here's hoping neither he nor Sir Athos missed anything important in all that rambling of stuff. Thankfully, he doesn't have any extreme allergies or anything so serious! And surely, Pavel has been made aware that the prince does not talk. Right?

Regardless, he nods a little glumly at the suggestion, still feeling a bit embarrassed at being caught so badly not paying attention, and stands up. He adjusts his mantle over his shoulders; his outfit not exactly the Full Formal but still the kind of outfit one would expect a prince to be presented in in a somewhat important meeting, complete with mantle and circlet/coronet circling his dark, cropped hair, and some jewels here and there on his person. Artyom watches the majordomo step out, and then looks over at Pavel, a friendly smile starting to form on his face again, before he gestures for the man to follow.

And, of course, fully expecting Pavel to be following, he starts on his way out a different door, around a hall, up some stairs... up to his private wing, more circular rooms and doors, but especially one in particular that he leads Pavel into. Many wide, open windows and even more bookshelves, overflowing with books- literally! There's small piles of them here and there on desks and even a chair or two, and there's several very comfortable places to sit, arm chairs and lounges and even a couch. And, opposite of the windows, a grand desk, loaded up with more books and papers and all sorts of writing implements, quilled pens and inkwells and wax for seals, and it definitely looks like Artyom left it in the middle of about three different things at once- a book laid open with a marker between the pages, multiple papers about, some with writing, some with doodles, and a book of a different sort, filled with hand-written pages and no title, and quills waiting in a well of blue ink.

Biting his lip again, Artyom turns around to face his bodyguard after showing him in, hands together at his front and fidgeting slightly.

[11:01 PM] Pavel Morozov takes a look around, and whistles, impressed-- he's been looking around as he moves through the castle anyway, looking for servant entrances and unlockable windows and things like that that ought to be easy to report, but this is genuinely fascinating in general, and he steps in towards the center of the room, turning to take a full look around. "Fwooh, this is nice," he says, and grins at Artyom, hooking his thumbs through his swordbelt and looking decently impressed. "All just for you, Prince Artyom? You could get lost in here, damn."

He's wearing Bodyguard Best, by the way, a chain shirt whispering quietly under a tunic bearing his own emblem of a sword on a red field, with a sword and dagger at his hips and a purse hanging from the back of his belt, heavy with supplies of some kind-- mostly first aid, in case injury did befall the prince. His body under the clothes is a little thick, sturdily well-fed, and his face is round and smiling, with scars striped near one eye and through the opposing eyebrow but kind and friendly.

[11:07 PM] Artyom Alexovich might wind up needing those medical supplies, let's be honest, he's a rather clumsy boy and he has his riding lessons in only a few hours and that usually ends in at least a few scrapes. He's not looking forward to it.

That aside, he smiles widely, a bright, pleasant grin, like he's just so happy to have shared this with Pavel, and to have the man's approval. Pavel has a face that, despite the scars, seems to exude friendliness, that which puts Artyom at ease. He nods at the question, because yes, this is all for him, and it may or may not surprise the man if he knew Artyom had read most of these books dozens of times over. He looks downright bashful, dipping his head slightly and even toeing his boot at the ground, fiddling his fingers together, before starting to move over towards his desk. But he doesn't say anything to carry the line of conversation.

[11:13 PM] Pavel Morozov can't help but grin wider. Damn, is the prince a grown man or a shy teenager? It'll be easy to charm him either way, honestly-- Pavel's a very charming guy-- though it might be a little easier if the prince would say something. He hasn't gotten a peep out of the fellow yet! Ah, well, at least he seems to enjoy Pavel's irreverence, and Pavel keeps up, trailing behind him as he goes to the desk, "Oppapapaaaa, I think there may be more books in this room than I've seen in the whole rest of my life. And I hear this castle has a library in it, doesn't it? Blyadj, that's enough books to keep you reading from the moment you're born to the day you die!" He sounds delighted and impressed, and leans towards one of the shelves, and asks, "Ehhh, can my filthy commoner fingers touch, my lord?"

[11:19 PM] Artyom Alexovich chuckles at those quips- there's a voice for you, Pavel! Low and soft and definitely on the quiet side, but it does exist. Even if it's not making words, right now. And oh, boy, you'd be surprised how many books this boy can work through. That library has had his little mitts all over a good chunk of it already, since the day he learned to read.

He leans over his desk slightly, to tidy things up a little, close the handwritten book (for now), and stuff a few of the papers under a shelf, hopefully out of sight(they're covered in doodles and sketches). He's about to pick up the book he left open, when Pavel asks if he can touch. Artyom smiles again, so friendly and open, like he isn't in a position of heavy power and reverence over this entire country, and nods gladly. And, in fact, after taking up his book and tucking it under his arm, he moves on over to Pavel, curious as to which books he might be looking at.

Artyom, it seems, is very eager to share his books.

[11:24 PM] Pavel Morozov has approached what seems to be adventure novels, the kind that have men swooping about and tossing off clever quips and tossing gloves at each other's feet, and maybe bedding a swooning maiden or twelve-- pure fantasy, obviously, but the kind of thing he loves, and he picks out something with a title that implies there will be much sword-thrusting going on, perching the spine in one hand and gently opening the book to read the first page,

[11:27 PM] Artyom Alexovich tilts his head a little as he tries to take a look at what Pavel's picked out over his shoulder, and more likely than not, it's probably something Artyom has read umpteen times and adored and probably played at pretending to be the hero alone in his quarters. But no one needs to know that.

He reaches up to tap Pavel on the upper arm, though, to catch his attention. And then once he has it, still with that terribly friendly smile, he gestures at one of the various places in the room to sit, inviting Pavel to relax, if he'd like to sit and read.

[11:35 PM] Pavel Morozov goes "Hmm?" and looks up at Artyom, who seems to be inviting him to sit-- "Eh, thank you, my lord, I'd love to," he says, delighted, because shit, is he really going to get a job this cushy, that the man he's guarding wants him to laze about reading books? He should spy more often! "Let me know if you need anything, Prince Artyom, I am your humble, brave, exceptionally strong and helpful, and very modest servant," he jokes, and goes to sit near Artyom's desk, but not so near that Artyom will feel like he's hovering.

[11:41 PM] Artyom Alexovich snorts a rather playful sounding scoff, rolling his eyes- he already rather likes this guy. Not afraid to be joking or talkative. Which is good for Artyom, honestly. While he's obviously not one to talk, he actually doesn't really like there being a lot of silence between himself and someone he's with. Which can be quite a predicament, especially when paired with someone who doesn't feel comfortable speaking around him much... he much prefers someone to ramble and fill the void he himself can't.

Glad that Pavel has accept his invitation to sit and read, Artyom goes back to his desk, adjusting his mantle before he sits, and opening his book. He gets about two pages in, before he pauses, glancing over at Pavel rather curiously, just sort of taking a look at him, before returning his eyes to his desk- this time reopening that other title-less book, running his fingers down the page for a moment, before taking up a quill from an inkpot. In blue ink, he starts a new paragraph, and soon the room is filled mostly with the sound of the point of the pen scratching against the paper. Though, occasionally, it halts, as Artyom looks over again at his company, before returning to his writing.

[11:45 PM] Pavel Morozov looks up when Artyom starts scratching at-- a journal? A diary, even? Or maybe some more mundane log or study, though Pavel might steal a look at it later, if he gets a chance, just out of curiosity-- then returns to his book for a while, until Artyom pauses his scratching.

When the prince looks at him, he meets his gaze with a lopsided smile, to see if he needs anything; by the next time Artyom pauses, Pavel has curled up intensely, hunched over and completely absorbed in his book. It's, uh, probably not proper for a bodyguard to be so distracted, but he's got his lower lip caught between his teeth and his eyes darting across the page eagerly, clearly absolutely captivated by whatever adventures lay before him.

[11:49 PM] Artyom Alexovich is absolutely writing in his diary. Writing about his new bodyguard, his playful voice and friendly face and his jokes, how easily he already puts Artyom at ease, and not merely in a manner of physical safety. He doesn't need anything when Pavel meets his gaze, so Artyom only smiled back, before returning to his writing.

When next he glanced over, to see his bodyguard so absorbed in his reading, Artyom actually grins, despite Pavel not really looking his way this time. It's so nice to have someone to share his books with! Maybe he can get Pavel to talk to him about his opinions on the book? The plot, the writing, the characters, anything. In fact, he turns back to his diary, and writes as much in it, that he may have found someone he can share a hobby with, if he's lucky. He punctuates that sentence with enthusiasm, before blowing gently at the ink to urge it to dry, and then gently pushing the still-open diary out of the way, so he can snatch at those parchments of doodles he shoved elsewhere earlier.

[11:52 PM] Pavel Morozov does glance up for a moment at the soft noise of the diary being shoved away, but the prince looks fully occupied, and there does not appear to be any assassin lurking on that side of the room that Pavel needs to kill, so he buries his broad nose right back in his book, reading and letting out a surprised chuckle at a particularly clever turn of phrase.

[11:54 PM] Artyom Alexovich had just started doodling again, pen scratching at the parchment and his feet tucked, ankles crossed, under his tall-backed and cushioned chair, when he hears that chuckle. And he glances at Pavel yet again, this time with a soft noise, curious at to what's got the man chuckling. Oh boy, what part is he at? "Hm?"

[11:58 PM] Pavel Morozov laughs a little harder, looking up, and waves his hand, and explains-- "Oh, you know-- the hero, ah, he has this rival, yes? Of course he does, and he just-- well, he's punning at his rival about his rival's dogs, it's very funny, because the rival is trying to impress a lady and he was bitten by a dog the last chapter..." Pavel waves a hand, and says, a bit sheepish himself, "It's very funny in the book."

[12:03 AM] Artyom Alexovich starts to smile as Pavel explains, and his smile just grows wider and wider as the man goes on, because he knows exactly the scene the man is talking about, and it makes him fill with an amount of delight that someone else found it great. Artyom gives a soft laugh, grinning happily.

And then he realizes he's been dripping ink from his quill right atop his drawing when he glances back, and he makes an abrupt grunt of frustration because noooo, dammit! "Mrrgh!" Into the fucking inkpot you go, rude ass pen. >:( Now he's not in the mood to even doodle anymore, and the sheets are shoved away again.

[12:05 AM] Pavel Morozov laughs, too, pleased that the prince, at least, seems to be amused by him-- amusement is good, yes, that makes charming the young man even easier-- and says, "Ah, damn, did I distract you? Do you, ah, you need more paper? If you'll tell me where it is, I'll fetch some..." Sorry, princeling, he didn't mean to have you fuck up your thing.

[12:08 AM] Artyom Alexovich is frowning a bit when he shakes his head because no, no he has plenty of paper in the drawers of his desk here, he's just a little grumpy that the doodle he's been working on has been a bit splattered. It's not that important, though, and he doesn't blame Pavel at all, and he gives him a quiet, negative "Mm-mh."

Then, Artyom takes up his first book, the one actually for reading, and leans against the high back of his chair, letting himself slump and relax instead of remaining straight-backed and formal, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on the arm of the chair as he opens to the page noted by his bookmark. Though he still has a small frown on his face when he begins to read, it quickly fades away as he turns the pages- which go rather quickly, the prince evidently being a rather fast reader.

[12:11 AM] Pavel Morozov watches him for a little while longer, smiling. What a cute young man. A shame he's heir to the Polis throne, where Pavel may eventually have to murder him in the name of Krasnye Vorota. But, ah!, that's life, isn't it? Full of murdering people you wish you could be friends with.

After a while contemplating Artyom, a smile on his face, Pavel turns to his own book again, reading in companionable silence with the prince.

[12:18 AM] Artyom Alexovich reads a good while longer, greatly enjoying this- it's... nice. Really nice, he thinks. He's never had someone he could just sit and enjoy books with. But, still, it's a bit silent... Maybe, sometime, he could find a way to ask the man to talk about himself more? Or at least, talk about something? Artyom's curious to hear more of those clever ramblings.

But, eventually, Artyom takes a look out the window- shit, has the sun moved that far? It's nearly time for his riding lessons! The prince groans, and marks his page before shutting his book quickly, setting it on his desk as he hurries to his feet. He clears his throat to get Pavel's attention, if he doesn't have it already, before he hurries out the door, and to his more personal chambers. Fully expecting Pavel to be following, he makes for his wardrobe to be changed to his riding clothes. If Pavel remembers what Artyom's schedule is.

[12:24 AM] Pavel Morozov does remember something about riding next, AND, conveniently, the majordomo made him a copy of Artyom's schedule for the day, so he can pull it out of his purse to check, and make a slightly urgent noise. "Ah, time for horses, my prince? I have to admit, I'm not terribly fond of the beasts myself--" he chatters, cheerily, following Artyom into the royal chambers, "-- dogs and cats are more my speed, you know? Nothing quite as sweet as a kitten trying to catch a barn mouse, eh?" He maaaay have brought the book with him, sliding the schedule into it to mark his place, without even thinking of it. Artyom does, indeed, have someone he can enjoy books with, now, as long as they're swashbuckling adventure stories. "Tak-tak-taktaktaktaktaktak, we need to get you out of those fancy clothes, don't we? Here, I'll unfasten you--" he offers, and steps in close to Artyom, hands going unabashedly to help him out of his clothing.

[12:31 AM] Artyom Alexovich is quite used to having a servant to help him in and out of all his rather fancy clothes. So many things that need to be fastened and made to look right, help him be presentable. So normally, he'd think nothing of this, and at first he doesn't, but with all of Pavel's chatter, somehow it feels a little more... personal? A little overly familiar? Not quite in an intimate way, but definitely a little awkward for the shy prince, and he swallows dryly, but participates nonetheless, helping Pavel get him changed, out of that mantle and his layers of vest and jacket and shirts, belts and gloves and boots, even out of his trousers, since he needs a different pair for riding. His cheeks maybe tint a bit with embarrassed bashfulness, and he keeps his eyes off Pavel, focusing move on changing and less on how this feels less like being changed by a servant, and more like undressing before an acquaintance.

[12:36 AM] Pavel Morozov is completely unbothered, going into the royal wardrobe and finding Artyom's riding clothes with little difficulty, and turning back to the undergarments-clad prince he is here to [protect/spy through]. "Here we go, my lord," he practically chirps, and helps Artyom get dressed again, even kneeling before him to lace up his tall riding boots.

[12:44 AM] Artyom Alexovich's slight embarrassment fades a bit as Pavel fetches his riding clothes, and soon he's all done up, with just his boots needing to be fastened. He sighs a bit, sounding a little annoyed, mostly because he really, really does not want to go to his riding lessons. But, well, he'd just get in trouble if he didn't go, and he tries not to be too much trouble, and be obedient. His uncle is a terribly stern man. A good man, yes, and kind in his own rather serious way, but very stern, and he doesn't take kindly to insolence. He may tolerate it overall, but you'd better expect to get an earful for it. Which Artyom does not want to put up with.

So, all dressed up in his riding clothes and looking a little glum, Artyom steps away from Pavel and out the door and down the stairs, adjusting his gloves a bit as he goes. Grumbly sounds. Hope Pavel enjoys the many views of the many halls of the Polis Capitol castle on their way out to the stables.

[12:46 AM] Pavel Morozov does enjoy the view, and trails Artyom, taking note of entrances and exits and ways a clever spy might sneak about unnoticed, until they reach the stables and everything is horses and hay and the smell of manure. "Ah, delightful," he murmurs to Artyom, sardonic, "I love the smell of horse shit, don't you?"

[12:49 AM] Artyom Alexovich was looking all sorts of glum a moment ago, but at Pavel's joke, he cracks a smile, with a small laugh through his nose. He stops walking so much like someone on his way to someplace unpleasant, relaxing his gait a bit, and glances over his shoulder to smile at Pavel- only to nearly walk into the stable doorframe.

"Uh!" He quickly corrects himself before he has a doozy there, and looks plenty sheepish as he heads into the stable, where his horse and trainer are likely waiting on him. Great, already nearly had a fuck-up, and he hasn't even touched the horse yet... Things are looking totally great so far.

[12:55 AM] Pavel Morozov lets out a startled bark of laughter, and lunges towards him in the same moment, to try and rescue him from the doorframe-- ah, he managed to miss it, and Pavel asks, "Ah! This is why you need a bodyguard, then? Rogue assassin doorways waiting to leap out and hurt you? Ahh, poor prince, so endangered!" He's smiling though, and pats Artyom's shoulder, like a companion, to assure him that Pavel is there for him.

[12:59 AM] Artyom Alexovich gives a loud, embarrassed groan at Pavel's light teasing, his pale olive cheeks going rosy. God!!!! ... But the pat is a bit comforting, and he gives Pavel a slightly rueful look, before approaching his horse and trainer, looking absolutely like he doesn't want to be here. Because he does not. And he hasn't wanted to be for every lesson since he was a child. Mngh.

[01:37 AM] Pavel Morozov smiles at the stableboy prepping Artyom's horse for him, and the instructor, startling a smile out of the former and not a single glance out of the latter, who looks remarkably unamused and bored in her riding gear. "My prince," she says, "I've saddled Rosebud for you." Artyom will know very well that Rosebud is the most gentle, meandering, unspookable old mare in the entire stable, the perfect size for Artyom, unable to be cajoled above a gentle bouncing trot unless someone has sugar for her at the other end of the paddock, in which case she might canter for a few steps before deciding sugar isn't that great. "Do you need a boost up into her saddle?" she asks, very blandly, because thirteen year olds don't need boosts into Rosebud's saddle.

[01:45 AM] Artyom Alexovich's face goes very, very red at his instructor offering a boost and he is feeling VERY patronized right now. He just!!! Has issues with this sort of thing, okay??!!! GOD!!!!!!!!! He glances over his shoulder at Pavel, looking quite embarrassed for his new bodyguard to already be seeing him being made a bit of a fool of. Before he makes a fool of himself on his own, most likely.

He climbs his own damn self into the saddle, though, even if takes him two tries to get up. And then he's settled in the saddle, back straight, and a determined look on his face. He looks well enough on the horse, like nothing could really fuck up too badly! And then he urges Rosebud forward, and is promptly bounced off her saddle, sliding right over her rump and landing on his back on the ground. "Uff!!"

[01:50 AM] Pavel Morozov tries very hard not to laugh, joining the riding instructor in helping poor Artyom to his feet, and dusting the straw and dirt off Artyom's ass for him, biting his lip and eyes crinkling. "Yo moyo," he says, and leaves his commentary at that, urging Artyom towards Rosebud, who looks gently confused that her rider is on the ground, again, for the hundredth day in a row, her big, brown head turned towards them and her wet brown eye blinking in soft contemplation.

"Your form was perfect," the instructor tells Artyom, "but this time, perhaps your royalty would like to try staying on the horse? It might help to leave your feet in the stirrups, and your hands on the reins, my lord."

[01:54 AM] Artyom Alexovich groans as he's pulled to his feet and dusted off, butt and back feeling a little sore from his spill. The instructor's words, though, make his whole face go very, very red, and he glowers down at the floor, feeling absolutely ashamed and embarrassed. So she might as well be saying his form was absolutely the opposite of perfect. He clenches his fists at his sides, takes a breath, and lets it out harshly through his nose, before he storms forward to climb back atop Rosebud without a word.

[01:57 AM] Pavel Morozov comments softly to the instructor, "Hullo, madame, I'm the new bodyguard. Is he, ah... always this good at riding?"

She glances at him, and says, "I've seen him stay on a horse for five minutes once. It was stubborn and refused to walk for that long." Then she instructs Artyom, "Feet stay in the stirrups, yes, hands on the reins, yes. Now nudge her, gently, with your heels."

[02:00 AM] Artyom Alexovich is staring straight ahead, at neither the instructor nor the bodyguard, glowering at the middle distance as they talk about his utter failure at being a rider. He makes sure he's got a grip on the reigns, and boy is he clutching at them. His feet are also most definitely still in the stirrups this time. But, when his instructor informs him to nudge Rosebud gently with his heels... Well, his fluster and frustration and nerves get the better of him, and he nudges her rather harshly instead.

[02:03 AM] Pavel Morozov stares at what is doubtless the most gentle and unbothered mare in the history of horses decides that nudge was much too rough, rears up half-heartedly, dumps Artyom on the ground, and takes off in a... gentle, jingling trot around the edge of the paddock, whinnying in annoyance.

"Yo moyo," he murmurs, again, and goes to help Artyom up, while the instructor tries to catch the horse.

[02:05 AM] Artyom Alexovich fucked up, and he's dumped on the ground again with a yelp and a loud, pained grunt. He lets Pavel help him up, but then pulls himself away to dust his own damn self off, face red all over again and refusing to look at his instructor or the horse or the bodyguard or even the stablehand, frowning hard. "Mmnngh..."

[02:10 AM] Pavel Morozov says, softly, "Hey, hey, some people don't get on with horses, you know? I had a friend once, couldn't even get in arm's reach without getting bitten, and he wanted to be cavalry. At least you don't smell like hatred to Rosebud over there, eh?"

Rosebud, annoyed at being chased, turns and canters towards the fence of the paddock, and jumps it, to the startled swearing of her trainer.

"... and at least you didn't chase Rosebud right over the fence," he says, bemused, and claps Artyom on the shoulder as the horse makes her way through the castle courtyard, startling nobility and shying away from everyone trying to catch her reins. "That was all your teacher, eh?"

[02:12 AM] Artyom Alexovich feels at least a little better as Pavel starts to talk about someone he knew as bad at horses as Artyom is, but when he sees Rosebud bolt over the fence... Nothing Pavel says can make Artyom feel like it isn't his fault, his failure, and he covers his embarrassed, heated face with his hands, groaning wildly, before turning right around to head straight back to the castle. It doesn't even matter if his trainer gets ahold of the horse again with plenty of time to spare. He's decided, after that, his lesson is over for today.

[02:19 AM] Pavel Morozov cannot blame Artyom, and he trots after him, grinning to himself, and comforting Artyom, "So, at least your humiliation was brief? It'll be fine, don't worry, you'll either get the hang of it or she'll give up eventually, eh? Carriages aren't so bad, anyway, I hear they're doing amazing things with springs these days."

[02:22 AM] Artyom Alexovich really would rather just ride in a carriage or something. It's not a big deal, plus they've got a great, big, fancy royal carriage for exactly this reason! And slightly less fancy, more durable travel carriages for reasons other than parades! What does he need to ride a horse for?? And, honestly, a carriage would be safer anyhow, less exposure. He doesn't see why he's still forced to go to these lessons so often. They always only end in shame and embarrassment.

He huffs as his response to Pavel's chatter, as he storms back into the castle, right past anyone he comes across without a word. Soon enough, he's back in his personal wing, and into his chambers, to get out of these damned riding clothes.

[02:28 AM] Pavel Morozov will help him out of them again, then, and ask, "Want for me to take a look at your back, Prince Artyomuchka? Those falls looked pretty rough."

[02:32 AM] Artyom Alexovich gets down to his underthings with Pavel's help, ready to be dressed back up for the rest of the day, only to pause at the bodyguard's suggestion. Not a bad idea- he's feeling sore as hell, and he wasn't really looking forward to bumbling about the day with a hecked up back. So he nods, and turns so that his back is facing Pavel, who is now free to get all up under Artyom's undershirt. His back, pale as the rest of him despite the olive undertones to his skin, is a bit red, with what looks to be hints at bruising along and around his upper back.

[02:36 AM] Pavel Morozov tsks softly, smoothing his warm, calloused hands across Artyom's blooming bruises, and says, "Rosebud really did a number on you, hmm?" in a sympathetic voice, before digging around in his purse for... aha, bruise salve, he had been wondering why the castle herbalist had insisted on it, but the reason is clear enough now. Easily, he scoops up some of the pleasantly pungent salve onto his fingertips, and starts rubbing it into Artyom's back, humming to himself out of key.

[02:39 AM] Artyom Alexovich shakes his head slightly- no, no he can't put the blame on poor old Rosebud. He really did a number on his own, stupid self with his clumsy idiocy. He sort of appreciates the thought, at least- only sort of, because it still comes off as a little patronizing, just patting to his bruised ego.

That's forgotten, though, when the familiar scent of bruise salve hits his nose, and a moment later, unfamiliar fingertips are working it into his upper back, the salve itself cool and soothing, but Pavel's fingers warm and comforting, and Artyom sighs, letting his head hang forward a bit, relaxing where he stands.

[02:43 AM] Pavel Morozov is very familiar with the stuff, himself, and he makes sure to be liberal with it-- it's not like Artyom will have to pay for it out of his own allowance, after all-- outright massaging it into Artyom's back, his thick, round hands skilled in this, too. And, hell, the lesson got cut very, very short, and Artyom doesn't need to be anywhere else for a while, right? Might as well outright massage the prince's entire back, thumbs digging in to search out any knotted muscles or stiff bits.

[02:47 AM] Artyom Alexovich has gone from getting a bit of bruise salve applied to the blooming bruises on his back, to getting a proper massage. Artyom gives a pleasant shiver and sighs softly, melting a bit- but only a bit, because he's still standing upright, even if he slumps slightly under Pavel's hands because good God, that feels... absolutely amazing.

Surprisingly, Artyom does have a few stiff, knotted points in his back, mostly the upper back, and his shoulders, but also in a spot in the middle of his spine, and another at the base. All probably from maintaining proper posture, as befitting a prince. That can put a lot of stress on a boy's back! Especially when it's much more comfortable slumped or curled on a couch or in a big armchair or across a lounge, while the prince has a book in his hands... And when Pavel hits those tense bits, Artyom's legs nearly shudder as he practically has to put in effort to keep standing and not slump down to the floor.

[02:50 AM] Pavel Morozov puts a salve-scented hand on Artyom's ribs to steady him, with a soft chuckle, and says, "Careful, my lord, you look a little wobbly--" before running his hands up and down Artyom's spine a few more times, fingers questing for more stiff spots or bruises to rub salve into and finding nothing.

[02:54 AM] Artyom Alexovich gives another shiver, feeling Pavel's hands at his ribs, before the bodyguard feels up and down his spine a bit more. Artyom is feeling very, very much more relaxed than he has in days, let alone more than he was when he fled that failure of a riding lesson. He sighs, contentedly, before stepping away slightly so he can stretch out his back and arms, twisting a bit, maybe popping a joint here or there, before letting his hands swing back down with another, relaxed sigh. And then, the prince looks over his shoulder to give a very grateful smile to Pavel.

[02:57 AM] Pavel Morozov grins back, and asks, "Better, mm? You should have a hot bath tonight, too, that'll keep the bruises from getting too sore. Now, what was next on the list...?" He goes to find his book's bookmark-slash-itinerary, and peers at it-- "Ah, dinner, it looks like! With the king and his advisors and daughter. So formal, but not royal banquet formal, yes?"

[03:00 AM] Artyom Alexovich nods along, yeah, yeah a bath certainly sounds nice, definitely... But then, the relaxing, massaging hands are no longer on him, and Artyom has to wake up a bit. Enough to hear the next part of his day's plans. Dinner with the no fun brigade, where he has to act proper and straight-backed and all manners and stoicism. Artyom looks less than thrilled about the prospect, before readying himself to be dressed back up.

[05:15 PM] Pavel Morozov asks, "Do you think your outfit from earlier will do, Prince Tyoma?" He didn't get even a blink calling him Prince Artyomuchka earlier, so pet names are fine, right? "It's still fresh, since you haven't been falling on the ground while wearing it, eh? Of course, I could try to impress your uncle by making you look extra handsome...." He glances at Artyom, and winks, and says, "Not that you need much help, eh?"

[05:18 PM] Artyom Alexovich ponders the question a bit... until he realizes what the other man has called him. The earlier petname had actually missed his notice, but this one's a bit more obvious, and his cheeks redden slightly. Only to redden even further at the... the... is it a flirt?? It couldn't be, though. They're both men!

Artyom makes a bit of a funny face, and fidgets, looking away from the winking bodyguard. He pauses, though, before... nodding, slightly, maybe kinda liking the idea of looking a little extra nice. Especially if news of his total failure at his riding lessons winds up reaching his uncle's ears.

[05:27 PM] Pavel Morozov could be just flattering Artyom! That's also a possible thing, not just flirting. Or stating fact, eh? You'd have to have eyes a lot more lopsided than Pavel's to miss that Artyom's a good-looking kid, after all. Still! "Extra handsome it'll be," he says, cheerfully, and looks through Artyom's wardrobe. "You, uh, you like green? It's a good color, matches your eyes, chuvak, makes them look good. I bet you'd look good in a nice dark red, too, hmm..."

He fusses about, mumbling to himself, and comes up with a handsome silk outfit that looks fairly new, with white lace around the cuffs and throat and a deep red-violet coat, the color of purple maple leaves, with a softly violet embroidered undercoat and black pants. "What do you think, my prince?" he asks, brightly, laying them out on the bed.

[05:32 PM] Artyom Alexovich likes green alright. It's not necessarily his favorite- he doesn't actually really HAVE a favorite color, to be honest! But green seems to be a common color in his wardrobe- dark foresty greens, mild olives, light bottle-greens. Whomever purchases the clothing for his wardrobe does seem to favor matching his eyes, also that clear bottle-green color.

He stands nearby in his underthings while Pavel picks something out, fiddling with his hands in front of himself, until the bodyguard presents him with an outfit. Very... burgundy! Reminds him of wine, and Artyom smiles, and nods, showing his approval. He's gonna look SO good.

[05:34 PM] Pavel Morozov , pleased, will get him dressed then! And keep up a chatter the whole time, and call him "Prince Tyoma" and "Prince Artyomka" and, at one point, "Artyomuchka" without a prince in front of it, all very familiar and informal even as he gussies him up for a boring formal dinner with Miller and Anna and people Artyom probably doesn't really care too much about.

[05:39 PM] Artyom Alexovich cares an awful lot about his family, even if they're stern and a little joyless sometimes, but the rest? Eh. At least he'll be looking good while he's eating and being bored. The petnames are terribly familiar and informal, but he finds himself smiling slightly as he's gussied up, finding them a lot more relaxing than being constantly called only Artyom and Prince- but don't let anyone outside this room catch you not using his title, Pavel, that probably will get you in a bit of trouble.

He's only known Sir Pavel for a short time, now, but already he feels at ease with the man. Unlike other servants, he hasn't been so tense and distant in a way that makes Artyom feel like he might as well not be in the company of real people, he'd feel so alone. But Pavel, he talks to him. Indulges him a bit, playful and interesting. It's something Artyom can certainly get used to, and at a point while he's being dressed up, should he manage to catch Pavel's eyes with his, he smiles brightly at him.

[05:43 PM] Pavel Morozov will greet the smile with a big one of his own, assured that he's not being too friendly by treating Artyom like a good friend that he just hasn't known very long-- hell, he's forged friendships faster than in the few hours they've know each other, and with fewer words spoken-- and adjusts the boy's collar before patting him in a vaguely paternal-friendly way on the cheek. "You could stun a, a small crowd with how handsome you look," he says, stepping back and looking over his handiwork, "or make ladies swoon as you walk by. Damn, I'm good."

[06:01 PM] Artyom Alexovich stays still until Pavel is done fussing with his clothing, and when the man steps back to look him over, Artyom looks over himself as well, holding out his arms or a leg out in front of him, twisting about a bit, making his cape swish about a bit. Has he worn this outfit before? Well, individually probably, so the better question: at least, these articles of clothing in this particular order?

At Pavel's compliments, though, he looks back at him with a bright grin, as bright as the sparkling gems on the coronet Pavel had placed atop his hair. He feels like a million [insert currency here].

[06:03 PM] Pavel Morozov The outfit probably costs that much, and Pavel looks pleased as hell, praising Artyom, "You look every part the royal prince, my friend! They'll be swept off their feet-- not a soul there will be as attractive as you, eh? Now, how much time do we have... will they send up a servant to tell us when to come, or do we have to figure it out for ourselves?"

[06:08 PM] Artyom Alexovich looks quite proud of himself and how he's looking, like he hadn't horridly embarrassed himself today in front of someone he's just met and already sort of fond of. And maybe going to dinner looking properly regal and with an air of dignity will keep anyone from thinking too much about how the prince royally fucked up his riding lessons again.

But then Pavel asks him a question, the kind of which that... isn't... really easy to answer. Not without a piece of paper for him to write on. Not a yes or no question he can nod or shake his head to, or something he can answer with a simple enough gesture. The Prince makes a slightly uncomfortable face, fiddling his hands in front of him, and makes a quiet, noncommittal noise in his throat. He'd LIKE to say that a servant is supposed to stop by to announce that he should come down for dinner, but...

... Pavel knows he doesn't speak, right?

[06:10 PM] Pavel Morozov has, uh... well, he may have noticed Artyom hasn't really spoken up much yet, but Artyom has an expressive face, and an easy smile, that he feels like they've been communicating fine, and he waits for an answer, smiling. What's wrong, Artyom?

[06:12 PM] Artyom Alexovich continues to not have an answer for Pavel that he can express with what resources he has on hand- if only they were in his study! He'd have penned the manservant a quick note in a heartbeat. Artyom's cheeks are starting to tint red, and he takes a half step back, as it's dawning on him that, somehow, his own bodyguard has not been made aware of a certain... peculiarity of the prince.

Maybe they shouldn't have been goofing off while the majordomo was speaking...

[06:13 PM] Pavel Morozov's smile fades a bit, though his mouth stays quirked up on one side, and he asks, uncertainly, "Tyoma...? Is, is, uh, is something wrong?"

[06:16 PM] Artyom Alexovich shakes his head- no, nothing's wrong! He just... he just can't answer that question, the way it's been presented to him. And, starting to get a bit flustered, Artyom quickly turns away, and heads for the door, to make his way down to his study, feeling his dignity slipping a bit again.

[06:23 PM] Pavel Morozov follows, a few steps behind, since the prince seems a bit frazzled, though he has no idea why. He'll even stay quiet as they go, not wanting to fuck up more! Enjoy some SILENCE, Artyom, aside from the quiet whisper of Pavel's chain maille and the soft pad of his shoes behind you.

[07:24 PM] Artyom Alexovich DOES NOT ENJOY THIS SILENCE, OH NO. 8( He liked it much, much more when Pavel was more than happy to carry on a conversation for the both of them, not go all quiet. He goes into his study in a bit of a hurry, and over to his desk, leaning over it to snatch up a scrap of parchment and take his quilled pen from the inkwell, scratching away at the piece of paper.

It takes next to no time, though, only a few words, and when he's done, he blows lightly over the writing to urge it to dry, and then folds it in half, before turning around to face Pavel with a sheepish and even slightly shameful look on his face. He holds out the note for Pavel to take, and unfold and read, which says only: "Were you not told?"

[07:32 PM] Pavel Morozov will... take the note, and open it, and read it, and say, slowly, "... Told?"

He scrapes through his mind-- ah, maybe Artyom is recovering from a sickness and lost his voice? God, come to think of it, he hasn't said a word, and Pavel didn't even notice! But, uh, maybe he'd better let the prince tell him, and Pavel slowly... offers the paper back, and steps in close, and says, "You can just write, I'll read," leaning a hand on the desk.

[07:38 PM] Artyom Alexovich got the answer he needed, when Pavel didn't even seem to know what he was talking about. Artyom groans quietly in mild frustration. Yeah, they... probably should've paid the majordomo a bit more attention. Giving a disappointed sigh, Artyom is glad, at least, Pavel seems to be getting the gist a bit... So he leans back over his desk, taking up another piece of paper and writing with his quill, dipping it occasionally.

"I am unable to speak," He writes, "You were supposed to have been told about this."

[07:41 PM] Pavel Morozov bites his lip, and glances sidelong at the prince, and makes a soft noise. What, like, at all? "... You're mute, Tyomichka?" he asks, which is a simple enough question, though he looks somewhat surprised. God, no, he didn't know about this, and he should have-- he'd asked for information on the prince before coming, on all the royal family, and there'd been no mention of this.

[07:44 PM] Artyom Alexovich doesn't meet Pavel's eyes as he nods, his cheeks red with shame. He returns to writing, "No one outside of immediate relevance to me is supposed to know. It's a secret." That would explain why none of Pavel's sources would know- the amount of people who do know is probably miniscule, a well kept royal secret. "You're to be responsible for me, so you were supposed to be told."

[07:48 PM] Pavel Morozov is silent for a moment, and then says, in a pained voice-- but laughing, at himself, "Aww, shit, and I asked you a question you couldn't answer, eh? Shit, Tyoma, I didn't even notice. I thought you were just being quiet." He hesitates, then gently nudges a closed fist against Artyom's arm, and says, "Damn, do I deserve a wallop for that or what?"

[07:51 PM] Artyom Alexovich gives a slightly strained, frustrated sigh, but he shakes his head, looking at Pavel a bit sheepishly. He's not mad. Just terribly ashamed. He reaches up to pat Pavel's arm in a friendly manner, though, and shakes his head. He won't hold it against you, and he offers a small, sheepish smile, despite his still furrowed brow.

[07:57 PM] Pavel Morozov says, "I guess I'll have to keep carrying the conversations, though, eh?" and smooths his thumb over Artyom's forehead, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. "Oppapapa, look, look at this frown on Prince Tyomichka's face! You'll start looking like your uncle before you're twenty-five if you keep that up, little prince, come on, where's that handsome smile you were wearing with your handsome clothes?"

[08:01 PM] Artyom Alexovich can't help but snort at Pavel's joking, and his forehead smoothes out on its own, a genuine smile growing and growing on Artyom's face. Well, he's already feeling a lot better than he was a moment ago! He's glad, at least, that Pavel takes it in good humor and... doesn't seem to judge him, at least.

Finally, though, he turns away to scribble down one more sentence, to finally answer Pavel's question: "Someone will be sent to inform us to come down for dinner."

[08:15 PM] Pavel Morozov leans close, and reads it, and says, "Right, right! Well, then, well, ah, what do you usually do when waiting for dinner? Do you read some more? Or we could talk some more," and he waves at the quill and ink and paper, clearly meaning like this, and clearly absolutely willing to converse like this.

[08:17 PM] Artyom Alexovich is about to write an answer that he usually just reads when he's not needed, but... Well. He smiles and decides not to miss this opportunity, and sits down properly in the chair at his desk so he can write more comfortably.

A few movements of his quill later, and, "I'd love to talk."

Hardly anyone actually puts in the effort to let him 'talk' to them like this. His chest feels warm, and now, he can't stop smiling.

[08:20 PM] Pavel Morozov tells him, "Give me a moment, Tyoma," and smooths a hand over his hair for a moment, familiar and friendly and kind, before turning away to drag up another chair, perching on the edge of it and hesitating, before saying, "Well, damn, now that I can, ah, I can ask you things, I don't know where to start, Princeling. I guess I'll ask if you have any questions for a boring old bodyguard like me, eh?"

[08:24 PM] Artyom Alexovich's chest feels odd at the pet to his hair, and he... fiddles with his coronet a little, fingers brushing where Pavel's fingers had just been. He chuckles a bit at Pavel's sudden loss of what to ask Artyom about, so apparently it's his turn to ask questions instead. And so, he writes, "You like to read? How are you liking that book?"

[08:24 PM] Artyom Alexovich would very much like a book buddy

[08:26 PM] Pavel Morozov says, enthusiastically, "God, fuck yeah, I love novels, I swear I've read every one that's ever come through my village, but my favorites are ones with, eh, dashing rescues and escapes and clever handsome men-- always, I always, ah, wanted to be one of them, though hopefully protecting you won't be as exciting as a book, eh?" He laughs a little, and rests his elbow on the desk and his chin in his hand, and says, "And I love it! Alexi is amazing, what a hero, you know? Tongue as sharp and bright as his sword, and his sword as sharp and bright as a crescent moon."

[08:31 PM] Artyom Alexovich genuinely enjoys listening to Pavel go on about the kinds of novels he enjoys, smiling and watching his face as he talks, the expressions he makes, his lips and his eyes. He's so terribly interesting, Artyom thinks. Lively and fun, always with something to say.

"The adventurous life of a hero does have its appeals," Artyom writes in response, a half-grin on his face. "Though I agree, I don't think I'd like the danger to oneself and others around that'd come with asking for that kind of life. Even if it seems dazzling."

[08:36 PM] Pavel Morozov says, "Ooooh, well, if danger does come your way, you'll have me there to keep it from being too exciting, I promise you that, my Princeling." He flashes his lopsided grin at him, then asks, "Would it be too rude of me to ask how long you've been mute, Tyoma...?"

[08:40 PM] Artyom Alexovich snorts, rolling his eyes- gosh, Pavel, have you ever considered that maybe Artyom would like to be a adventure novel hero, too?? But then Pavel asks his question, and the prince's cheeks go a bit red in shame. He doesn't suppose it's rude, just... shameful.

"For almost as long as I can remember." He writes, penstrokes slow. "I'm told that I stopped talking after my mother died. Apparently I could speak before, but after her death I simply stopped. I've tried to speak since then, but I just can't. My voice is there, but I can't urge it to make words most of the time."

[08:44 PM] Pavel Morozov nods, and says, "You were barely older than a baby, weren't you? I remember hearing about it... poor Tyoma." He hesitates, then offers, a little shyly, "My mother is dead, too. Died giving birth to me. I didn't know her, but papa always said she was like an angel. Then I read the bible, and found out angels have four heads, right? Or are on fire all the time, or have more wings than any beast has limbs. Makes me wonder what she was really like." He laughs, a little.

[08:46 PM] Artyom Alexovich makes a bit of a face at the pity, looking away, but he looks back when Pavel starts to sympathize, share his own experience- only to turn it to a joke, just the right kind to make Artyom snort and laugh quietly, reaching out to nudge Pavel's arm playfully.

"What has your life been like?" He writes, curious about his bodyguard. "I'm sure the majordomo listed off your pedigree, but I was probably tuning that out."

[08:51 PM] Pavel Morozov says, "Oh, it's all been very boring. Village guard, then city guard, then private mercenary, then private bodyguard, with whatever odd jobs I could find in between... but I'm damn good at all of them. It's what got the attention of your majordomo, I think, being so good that I've never lost a client, you know? And now, lucky me, I'm all snuggled up in the royal palace, with a nice boss and bunch of books I've never read! Must be the luckiest guy in the world-- Lucky Pavel Athos, that's me, eh?"

[08:59 PM] Artyom Alexovich watches Pavel's face as he talks, genuinely interested in his career history, now that it's him telling the story and not t he majordomo and his droning voice that Artyom likes to very literally turn a deaf ear to. And then Pavel starts talking about luckiness, and that makes the prince chuckle, and tuck his feet under his chair as he writes.

"To be honest, I feel like I should be one to count myself as lucky. I've never had a bodyguard or manservant that was so friendly."

[09:00 PM] Pavel Morozov blinks, and asks, "Ah-- I'm not too friendly, am I?"

[09:01 PM] Artyom Alexovich laughs again, and waves a hand before writing further, "Maybe if we were around others that might take offense on the grounds of lack of manners or respect. But if I am to be honest, personally, when we are alone, I don't mind. It's nice."

[09:06 PM] Pavel Morozov breathes an exaggerated sigh of relief, and laughs. "I do find it easier to protect people I like," he admits, with a grin, "'Cause I'd be sad if they died, you know, Tyoma? And I can already tell I'd be sad if you so much as got a scratch on you." He'd be especially sad if he had to stab Artyom right through the heart, but hopefully it won't come to that! "... Though I might laugh at you a little, if the scratches come from horses," he admits, and grins jokingly at Artyom.

[09:19 PM] Artyom Alexovich is genuinely touched by Pavel's apparent care of him already, and it makes Artyom grin- until he brings up the horse thing and, well, that grin is swiftly replaced by an embarrassed pout, his cheeks going red again. "Mrgh..."

"I prefer not to think about my tribulations with horses." He writes, with a firm punctuation from his quill.

[09:28 PM] Pavel Morozov covers his mouth with a hand, to hide his grin, and says, "Careful, Artyomuchka, or I'll think you're trying to murder that innocent paper."

[09:34 PM] Artyom Alexovich gives Pavel a Look. Hiding your mouth doesn't hide the grin in your eyes, Pavel, and Artyom squints.

[09:49 PM] Pavel Morozov snorts into his hand, and-- well, hands do nothing to hide laughter, really, and so Pavel presses it over his eyes, so he can't see how cute Artyom is instead. "Dammit, don't give me that look," he says, cheeks rosy as he struggles to hold back chuckles, and nudges Artyom's shoulder with his own. "I won't be able to keep from laughing at you, Tyoma, please!"

[09:51 PM] Artyom Alexovich GROANS in frustrated annoyance, rolling his eyes. And, fine, if Pavel doesn't want him to give him that look, then Artyom will look away, crossing his arms and slumping against the back of his chair. Awwww, someone's gotten all grouchy and pouty. Evidently, he doesn't care much for being laughed at. At least, not on sensitive subjects. Like horses. And muteness.

[09:55 PM] Pavel Morozov stuffs a pudgy knuckle in his mouth, and chews on it to get himself to stop laughing, and manages with a-- well, his face isn't straight [s]just like the rest of him[/s] but he's not laughing anymore, and he cajoles, "Awww, hey, Artyomich, don't make a face like that, your smile is so nice. Here, here, you can ask me something again, let's keep talking, all right?"

[09:58 PM] Artyom Alexovich gives a short sigh through his nose and... gives up on being pouty and grouchy, so quickly and easily, Pavel is so hard to be mad at, isn't he? So he sits up again, nodding, and starts to write out another question. "Do you have any family?"

[10:10 PM] Pavel Morozov says, "Oh, some here and there-- my father, of course, he was in the guard, too, but then he retired, you know, took a blow that left him without his sword arm. But I send money and letters home, and so he gets bread and mutton and can pay a lady to come cook for him..." All true enough, though he doesn't mention that the lady and the father and the lack of a sword arm are all in Krasnye Vorota. It's easier to lie when you're not actually lying, after all! "I have an aunt, too, and some little nieces and nephews, who are all very loud and talk even more than me! I know, I-- I know, it seems impossible, but it's true, my princeling, they'd make a squirrel sound quiet."

[10:25 PM] Artyom Alexovich is back to soft smiles and interested eyes as he watches Pavel talk, listening to him go on, head turned slightly to better face his good ear towards him. He's even got his elbow up on the desk, chin in his hand. He chuckles as Pavel talks of his nieces and nephews, though, and grins a bit more brightly, and doesn't notice any warmness in his chest at the way Pavel calls him 'my princeling'.

He straightens up a bit at the end, and lifts up his quill to write some more, but before he can even dip it in ink, suddenly there's knocking at the door. "Dinner is ready to be served, my Lord." Calls the voice from the other side of the door. Artyom looks slightly disappointed, but he sets his pen back down and stands up, glancing over at Pavel. Ready to escort him? And once Artyom's settled in the guarded dining room, Pavel will likely be allowed to go have his own meal as well.

[10:39 PM] Pavel Morozov goes, "Awwww," soft and low, and pushes his chair back, offering his prince a hand up. "It seems we can't talk any longer." Once Artyom is stood up, Pavel gives him one last straightening-up, smoothing his shirt and doublet and cape and settling the circlet on his brow and-- as a finishing touch-- cupping his cheeks and grinning at him approvingly. "You look wonderful," he says, proud of both his own work and his cute new friend, and steps back to let Artyom lead the way out of the study and to the dining hall.

[10:53 PM] Artyom Alexovich accepts the hand up, and then Pavel is helping to straighten him up a bit [s](haha yeah right)[/s], smoothing out his clothes and things and readjusting his cape and circlet. When he cups Artyom's face and compliments him, though, his cheeks go a little rosy, and as he follows Pavel from the room, the prince has a broad smile on his face.

Dinner goes as expected. Boring. Several invited nobles and advisors lining the dining table, Anna making barely-disguised quips about his incompetence, his uncle, the king, making an occasional half-interested inquiry to his day, carefully crafted as yes or no questions. Word had gotten to his family, at least, about the failure of his riding lesson, as Anna was able to coyly hint at him. But Artyom was feeling rather good this evening, and kept his back straight and his face placid and, he hoped, looking a bit more respectably Regal than he normally does. Pavel did a good job dressing him up, he thought, and he wanted to put up the posture and attitude to match.

Artyom had tried to go for a second glass of wine, his uncle had shut him down with the excuse (for the ears of those that don't need to know too many things) that too much might be bad for his health. Which was disappointing, but probably a good idea. And, eventually, after an awful lot of boring talk of political gossip, dinner eventually ended, and Artyom was free to return to his wing... Pavel in tow again.

Despite not having even done much physical exertion through dinner, mostly just eating and sitting and, like, breathing and blinking, Artyom felt drained after it, and went straight past his study and to his personal quarters, deciding to just turn in immediately.

[11:05 PM] Pavel Morozov follows him, and asks, "Did you want that bath? A nice hot soak? I can wash your hair for you, Artyomich, and maybe put more bruise salve on your back..." His own dinner was uneventful, though he was happy to listen to gossip as he ate down in the kitchens.

[11:08 PM] Artyom Alexovich had entirely forgotten about having agreed earlier to a suggestion of a bath! How could he forget?? Thankfully, Pavel is here to so kindly remind him, and Artyom nods eagerly, moving over to his wardrobe to be changed out of his dinner clothes and into something for preparing to bathe- like, you know, probably some fancy satiny/silky royal bathrobe or something.

[11:14 PM] Pavel Morozov tells him, "Haha, I was, ah, was clever and told them you'd probably want a bath, when I went to dinner, so the water's probably almost ready to be poured for you now," and grins at Artyom, happily, going to help him out of his handsome clothes and hang them back up after inspecting them for stains-- but, no, no stains, and Pavel is suitably impressed by Artyom's apparent neat eating, and he smiles at his new friend/protectee/spying target, fetching him a silk robe-- a soft blue-tinged green, with embroidered and beaded leaves drifting up in piles around the corners of the front and the hems of the sleeves-- and helping him out of his underclothes, too, if he needs the help, and into the robe.

[11:21 PM] Artyom Alexovich smiles brightly at his bodyguard, already so thoughtful and helpful. Sure, other servants and bodyguards he's had have been good at their job, but... none of them ever went so above and beyond, especially not on their first day. Artyom just has to hope Pavel doesn't get sick of him.

They get him changed out of his clothes, and honestly, let's be real, if Artyom had a more relaxed upbringing he'd probably be a bit more of a messy eater. But he tries his best to stick to his table manners- so it's a good thing the king hadn't let him have more wine, to be honest. Once down to his underclothes, while Pavel fetches him a robe, Artyom pauses, before he starts to tug his undershirt off of him, careful with any buttons or little fastening ties.

[11:29 PM] Pavel Morozov sees that Artyom has his shirt handled, so he will fold the robe over his arm, and go to loosen Artyom's corset, unknotting the bow in the middle and loosening the back, slowly. He probably couldn't massage under this when he gave Artyom his back rub earlier, huh? Better dig his fingers in as Artyom pulls his shirt off...

[11:39 PM] Artyom Alexovich maaaaybe gets a little caught in his undershirt in a few places because he's a bit ridiculous, but he pretends he's totally not stuck and is just taking his time as he worms his way out, finally tossing the shirt aside. He breathes a sigh of relief, but not from being free of his shirt, but from the relief of the pressure around his waist as Pavel unravels the corset that had been around his waist.

But then his fingers dig in and oh, [b]oh[/b], that feels absolutely wonderful, and Artyom gives a soft groan as he melts slightly under the bodyguard's touch, despite remaining standing.

[11:47 PM] Pavel Morozov kind of-- he kind of likes that groan, and he says to Artyom, "I, I, I used to give my aunt back rubs all the time-- she always had, ah, backaches, after all the nieces and nephews and the carrying them in her belly and on her hips and on her shoulders, you know-- and I'm pretty good at them." He's really good at them, actually. "Anytime your back hurts at all, my Tyoma-prince, just, ah, let me know, all right?" Rub rub rub rub, here, let him finish unlacing the thing and pull it off you, Artyom, and slide those shorts off your hips, and then offer the robe to step into, gaze flickering across Artyom's nude body. Cute, slender, would be nice if he were a girl, aside from the bruises on his back-- but, ha, if he were a girl, those would've been gotten in a more interesting way, probably.

[11:57 PM] Artyom Alexovich misses it when Pavel has that little slip of the tongue of 'my Tyoma' instead of 'my prince', and thinks nothing of it, instead just numbly nodding along to the offer of more backrubs whenever he likes, because he's still getting this backrub, so nice, pushing away the gathered tension at his waist and lower back and- "Mmmngh..."

And then the corset is all the way off, and Pavel's unlaced his undershorts, pushed them down off his hips, leaving the prince nude in front of Pavel for just a few moments. And yes, he's definitely slender, skinny and wiry, pale despite the olive undertone to his skin- he really should get out more, he'd likely darken up wonderfully. Not to mention the narrow shoulders and equally narrow hips, and petit, but rather cute and round rump. Artyom steps into the robe, still a little bit leftover melty from that lower backrub, letting his bodyguard tie the robe closed for him.

[12:00 AM] Pavel Morozov folds the robe closed over his chest, and ties the belt around his waist, and-- "Ah, forgot this," he says, and lifts the circlet off Artyom's head, and runs his fingers through Artyom's hair, combing it a little.

And then he ruffles it, because he can, and he'll bet anything no one has ruffled Tyoma's hair in years.

[12:02 AM] Artyom Alexovich's uncle ruffles his hair sometimes! It's fairly infrequent, but if he's especially pleased with Artyom and in a good mood, he might give Artyom a ruffle to his hair and some encouraging words. ... But aside from that, Pavel would be absolutely right in his assumption, and he's a little surprised by the gesture, turning his head to catch Pavel's gaze and smile a bit bashfully, but very genuinely.

[12:03 AM] Pavel Morozov thinks that this is a VERY CUTE PRINCE INDEED, and he grins back, totally unabashed, and scratches the base of Artyom's skull with his blunt fingernails. "Can you not die if I step out to make sure the bath water's coming?" he asks, fondness clear in his voice.

[12:05 AM] Artyom Alexovich chuckles a little, and nods- he highly doubts that in the few minutes Pavel is gone will just so happen to coincide with a sudden surprise assassination attempt. So, he steps aside to let the man leave, going to lean against one of his bedposts, fiddling with the end of one of his robe's sleeves. He's definitely looking forward to this bath.

[12:08 AM] Pavel Morozov will pop out, and be gone for only a few short minutes before he returns, a good dozen servants in tow behind him-- two of them carrying a tub to set up in Artyom's room, most of the rest carrying buckets of hot water that they pour into it, and the last with soaps and oils and extra bruise salve on a little tray, for Pavel or Artyom to select from. The water is steaming in the evening air, and Pavel sniffs at the bottles of oils, then asks, "How do you feel about smelling of roses, Tyomichka? Yes or no?"

[12:11 AM] Artyom Alexovich probably doesn't need to move or anything, standing over by his bed, when the servants come in to set up the bath, so he just stays where he is to be out of the way, until the bath is prepared and the servants file back out, leaving Artyom alone again with his manservant. Now, he approaches the bath, up beside Pavel, considering the question- heh, wouldn't it have been more appropriate if he'd smelled of roses at dinner, when he was all in burgundy and violet and gold? But, well, he supposes it's not a bad scent, so he smiles softly and nods.

[12:14 AM] Pavel Morozov smiles back, and tips the bottle to drip some rose oil into the bath, and says, "Ah, all right, nod to me if you like to be pampered, and shake your head if you'd like to do your bathing yourself?" He wouldn't mind pampering Artyom, obviously, but some people do prefer to scrub themselves...

[12:16 AM] Artyom Alexovich has to consider it, because it's a little embarrassing, he thinks, the idea of being bathed by this man who is already so friendly and familiar to him. But on the other hand, if he allows Pavel to pamper him... more possibilities for impromptu massages? That, he most certainly can't pass up, and Artyom nods eagerly, before untying the belt around his waist.

[12:21 AM] Pavel Morozov will take his robe, and fold it to one side, and wait for Artyom to step into the bath and get all settled down, and then he will start from Artyom's hair and work his way down, pulling off his own overshirt and pushing up his sleeves so that they don't get wet when he puts a finger under Artyom's chin to tip his head back, scoops up some water in a cup he was left with for the purpose, and pours it over Artyom's hair, soaking it; then he dips his own hands in the water, lathers them with soap, and starts working them into Artyom's hair to clean it, finger-combing and massaging his scalp and humming a melody under his breath.

[12:26 AM] Artyom Alexovich lets Pavel take his robe off him, and then steps into the bath, hissing slightly at the pleasant heat, and then changing to a soft groan as he sinks his body down into the water. Yep, this is definitely heaven and the best idea he's heard in ages, thank you, Pavel. He's all melty and compliant when Pavel comes close to wash his hair, letting the man tip his head back and wet his hair, while the prince closes his eyes. When wet, soapy hands start to massage and comb through his hair and against his scalp, Artyom gives a few pleased sighs and even a quiet moan here and there, clearly enjoying this. The humming is nice in and of itself, too. What a nice evening.

[12:29 AM] Pavel Morozov is pleased that he can be of service! [s]Hell, he'd do any service Artyom could want of him, WONK WONK WONK[/s] Slowly, Pavel will work his way through Artyom's hair a few times, and then rinse it again and rub in oil to leave it soft, then pick up a sponge and soap and move down the tub, to clean Artyom's arms, scrubbing them gently from shoulder to fingertip, and between every finger, and-- carefully-- underneath every fingernail, too. Hmm de hmm hmm hmm.

[12:33 AM] Artyom Alexovich is all sorts of pleased and relaxed as Pavel works through his hair, and even wet, it probably feels nice and soft- but it'll be even better once it's dry. But for now, more washing, with Pavel taking up a sponge to soap up and scrub him with. Artyom leaves himself compliant and limp, easy for Pavel to take up his limbs to wash from end to end, while Artyom lets his head loll over to rest slightly on his opposite shoulder, watching Pavel work with half-open eyes and a relaxed smile.

[12:48 AM] Pavel Morozov glances at Artyom's face every now and then, and smiles back, genuinely happy to have... well, honestly, this easy, cushy assignment. If there's a threat to Artyom, surely it's Pavel himself; but Pavel's job right now is to lean over the edge of the tub and scrub the royal leg from the royal thigh to the royal toes with the royal sponge and soap, and repeat the job on the other side, and then go behind him and direct him, "Lean forward a bit, Tyoma, so I can get your back for you," in a warm and friendly voice.

[12:51 AM] Artyom Alexovich aids Pavel in his cushy assignment by helping to lift his legs out of the water one at a time as Pavel scrubs up and down them, and this would probably be something terribly intimate if it weren't obviously just a prince and his servant. No undercurrents here at all- especially not ones unknown to the parties involved! Artyom is all full of soft sounds and breaths as Pavel washes him, and he follows his instruction as the bodyguard moves behind him, sitting up so that he can lean forward.

His upper back is fairly bruised up from those spills off the horse earlier in the day, but not too badly- the salve likely helped a lot in that regard. Poor clumsy prince.

[12:56 AM] Pavel Morozov tsks quietly, and instead of soap and sponge, Artyom will feel warm hands, soft and round under their callouses, spreading over his bare shoulderblades, gently stroking the bruises. "My poor Tyomichka," he says, softly, and sets to massaging Artyom's back again, hands and fingers firm on his neck and across the tops of his shoulders, gentle on the bruises, and firm again as they follow Artyom's body under the water, massaging down to his hip bones. "You feel a little twisted up," he comments, and runs fingertips from the nape of Artyom's neck to the small of his back, "after we've gotten you out and dried off I'll straighten that out for you. It'll feel so much better, even if you don't realize how bad it is now."

[01:14 AM] Artyom Alexovich was expecting soap and sponge, which would already be terribly nice, but instead he's surprised by warm, round hands at his sore upper back, stroking against the bruises... which feels really nice, and he gasps quietly. And then he's making all sorts of soft, pleased sounds, little sighs and moans, putty under Pavel's hands as he leans forward in the bath while the man massages and rubs at his back and neck and bruises and why hasn't he had anyone rubbing his back before now?? It's sublime.

Artyom nods along to the suggestion, eyes closed, and when the tips of Pavels fingers run all down his spine, a shudder follows in their wake, making Artyom straighten up as his back arches. "Mnnh...! Mm-hm..."

[01:19 AM] Pavel Morozov smiles, and runs his fingers up and down Artyom's spine again, and then scrubs him down with the sponge, still gentle with his bruises. "I'll also salve these up for you again, it can't hurt," he murmurs, "and if they're still bothering you in the morning, we'll get you willow tea, with lots of honey in it. How does that sound, Tyoma?"

[01:21 AM] Artyom Alexovich has a couple more shivers and shudders at the fingertips up and down his spine, and gawd, stop teasing him, Pavel!! And then the man gets back to scrubbing his back, getting him all clean. The suggestions sound nice, and Artyom nods along with each and everyone one of them. Bruise salve, yesss, a nice tea yeeeeessss. Maybe he'll pretend his bruises still bother him in the morning just for an excuse to have Pavel spoil him a little more...

[01:24 AM] Pavel Morozov has the weirdest urge to just keep touching Artyom's back-- damn, but the kid's little noises are cute-- but eventually he runs out of things to scrub, and he shifts forward, around the edge of the tub, and gently presses a hand against Artyom's sternum, to urge him to settle back so Pavel can scrub his chest, too, from hipbones to shoulders.

[01:29 AM] Artyom Alexovich is no longer getting backrubs or back scrubs, how sad. But that's alright, because now he can lay back in the tub and relax again, this time to let Pavel clean his front. So he does as prompted, settling back down with a low, contented sigh, letting his arms rest along the rims of the tub, to keep them out of the way so Pavel can have better access to his front.

And as it turns out, he seems to enjoy having his front scrubbed as much as he enjoys having his back scrubbed! Quiet sighs and soft sounds, his eyes shut, his back arching just a bit, pushing his chest forward slightly when Pavel cleans at his upper chest, but there's definitely nothing unusual about that, and it only lasts for a few moments...

[01:37 AM] Pavel Morozov will just go about his business scrubbing, and, alas, will not pay any particular attention to Artyom's nipples, though they do get a scrubbing along the way to Artyom's belly--

But any lower than belly will have to be done by Artyom's hands, at least for now, Pavel scrubbing below his navel and then withdrawing, offering him the sponge. "I, ah, I, I assume you can deal with your junk yourself, Artyomich," he says, affectionately teasing.

[01:39 AM] Pavel Morozov: ((CORRECTION INCOMING))

[01:40 AM] Pavel Morozov blah blah blah

"You're, ah, what, twenty-one, Artyomich? Twenty-two? I'm sure you know how to handle your own junk by now," he says, teasing. Definitely just straight-up teasing. CAN HE FLUSTER A PRINCE?

[01:43 AM] Artyom Alexovich did not expect Pavel to go lower than his belly anyways! And, honestly, if he'd tried, Artyom probably would've socked him. He DOES have SOME boundaries. So when Pavel pulls his hands and the sponge away, holding the latter out to Artyom, he sits up and-

And flushes, apparently, because Pavel is teasing him and Artyom pouts with a furrowed brow and red cheeks and he huffily snatches the sponge away because he is twenty-one, and he can handle his own junk, thank-you-very-much! Grumpy and flustered, Artyom then proceeds to finish off washing himself, and it's probably not very sexy to be honest because it's just scrubbing himself in his unmentionable zones, before he sets the sudsy sponge aside, finished, and sinking back into the water to rinse himself off (and maybe soak a minute longer).

[01:50 AM] Pavel Morozov laughs, unashamedly enjoying Artyom's flusteredness, and turns away anyway, to go get towels to wrap Artyom in-- towels which, naturally, were hung up by one of the servants by the fire to warm them, so they're toasty and dry and ready for Artyom to step into, whenever he looks ready to step out of the bath. Which, considering the water is still warm and his back still bruised, could be a while, if he wanted it to be. Pavel's in no hurry to get him to bed.

[01:55 AM] Artyom Alexovich does end up staying a while longer, soaking in the relaxing, enveloping heat of the bath, the way it soothes his muscles and bruises. But, well, eventually the water loses it's heat to something more room temperature and unsatisfying, and Artyom gives a disappointed sigh as he rises up from the water and steps out from the bath. All dripping wet from his skinny, nude frame, for Pavel to bring warm and toasty towels to dry and wrap him with.

[02:01 AM] Pavel Morozov brings him his toasty and warm towels, one going right around the prince's shoulders like a cape, covering his entire torso down to the tops of his thighs in soft, absorptive fabric; the other goes to his hair, and Pavel, starts toweling it dry for Artyom, gently, still humming away.

[02:03 AM] Artyom Alexovich was feeling a little chilly, wet skin exposed to the air, so the towel wrapping around him is greatly appreciated, and while Pavel rubs and dries his hair, Artyom takes up the towel around his shoulders to start drying off his torso and extremities, at least a little.

[02:09 AM] Pavel Morozov waits until he's dried himself off, then nudges him towards the bed, and directs him, "Go lay down on your front on your bed, Princeling, and I'll finish massaging your back, all right?"

[02:12 AM] Artyom Alexovich is now all nice and dried and toasty, and still with a towel held very loosely around his frame. He chuckles at the nudge, and does as suggested, heading over towards the bed to climb up on it, and then laying down atop the cushy, embroidered blankets and quilts, belly down, folding his arms to rest his head on, and the towel left loosely over his body, covering him mid-back to mid thigh.

[02:18 AM] Pavel Morozov makes a short detour to gather up a nightshirt for the prince, and then goes to the bed, finally toeing off his boots-- he doesn't want to get the prince's bed dirty, after all-- and... straddling his hips, some of his weight resting on Artyom's cute round butt. "This, this'll get things straightened out," he says, cheerful and apparently oblivious to how this position would probably look to any servant who walked in, and folds Artyom's towel down to expose the length of his back before leaning forward, crossing his hands over Artyom's spine so that the heels of his hands rested to either side, and pressing down, gently but with his weight behind it as he moves his hands up and down Artyom's body-- with enough pressure for Artyom's spine to crack back into place, aligning itself as it should, hopefully leaving Artyom a smidge sore but his back feeling immensely better as Pavel sits back.

"How does that feel?" he asks, cheerily.

[02:23 AM] Artyom Alexovich , thankfully, does not tend to have servants walking into is room without permission or direction- they must always knock and respect his privacy. Pavel's the only one with such free access to his personal quarters. Still, though, oblivious though the both of them may be, Artyom does make a slightly... perturbed noise at the man straddling his hips. But that's very soon forgotten as Pavel starts to fuss and press against his back. Artyom grunts, and closes his eyes a little tight and-

And then suddenly his spine cracks and it hurts at first, but the refreshing, loosened feeling that follows is incredible, his back feeling so much better, and Artyom gives a loud, satisfied sigh in response. And to answer Pavel's question, he gets a low groan, "Mnnnngh." Translation: incredible.

[02:27 AM] Pavel Morozov pats his shoulder, and unstraddles, though he stays sitting on the bed and starts rubbing bruise salve in instead with a big, happy smile. "Good, good. Like I-- like I said, Artyomich, let me know anytime your back starts to trouble you, all right? I'll be there to fix it, no trouble at all, you understand?" And to rub his hands all over Artyom's skin, innocently, and fingercomb his hair for a moment before standing and offering the prince his nightshirt, still smiling a lopsided smile of pleasure at having been able to help.

[02:32 AM] Artyom Alexovich sighs and coos just a little bit as Pavel rubs the soothing salve into his bruises, gradually easing the ache. It'll likely be gone in the morning... but he might pretend otherwise, for that tea with honey Pavel promised him. He's terribly relaxed as it is, under Pavel's hands on his skin, and he doesn't even question the brief moment fingers brush through his dark, still slightly damp hair.

But then Pavel's off him, and the prince rolls over to sit up, taking up his nightshirt, which he can easily pull on on his own, kicking away the towel off of his bed. There's maybe one last flash of Artyom's naked chest and groin and hips before the nightshirt covers it all, finally preserving the prince's dignity and hiding his unmentionables, and Artyom stretches with a loud yawn. Someone seems plenty ready for bed!

[02:34 AM] Pavel Morozov grins, and pets his hair one last time, and says, "Go to sleep, little prince. There'll be plenty of horses for you to fall off of tomorrow."

If Artyom chooses to punch him in the arm for that, Pavel accepts his fate before he pulls back, to at least partially draw the prince's curtains  around his bed, and to get the servants to empty and carry away the tub, and to go get himself ready for bed, as well, even if his bed is going to be a military-style bedroll on the floor.