<div style="text-align: justify;"><strong>Ashburne - Amberthorne</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/0/05/Graham_Ellery_1.jpg)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Graham Ellery</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>Graham's worries ebbed away at the sight of his beloved removing the cloth that prohibited him from studying his chiseled form. The young lord was hardly out of shape, but the difference between the two was more than noticeable enough to distinguish their roles at a glance. One was the mind, the other the body. Of course, that would be a disservice to the ingenuity and wit Asher brought to the table, but they still had their own strengths. They complemented one another in much the same way their fathers had before them; probably even more, given the nature their relationship had taken on years prior. A grin would tug at Graham's lips at the end of Asher's approach. It turned into a full smile when the other crouched between his legs and helped him with the last of his own garments.<br/><br/><strong>"If I didn't know that every touch of yours was blissful, I'd complain that you're coddling me,"</strong> the man smirked with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked down at his bodyguard. Further words were temporarily silenced with a kiss, which the nobleman made sure to have last as long as their breaths would allow it to. Once the contact broke, he exhaled again, eyes meeting one another. <strong>"You always do,"</strong> he chuckled before getting up from his seat. <strong>"Come. That bath can't end soon enough,"</strong> as much as he knew his lover's soothing touch was going to help his muscles, it was obvious he now wanted something far more physical and intense.<br/><br/>He slept well that night, a fact entirely attributed to Asher's attentions. Yet another favor Graham owed the other man. The tally was starting to get skewed something fierce. It needed rectifying.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>"There has to be someone we can lobby with. We may not have money, and your name may not be what it once was, but we still have some power to offer. Knowledge, secrets and insight, to name a few,"</strong> the voice that spoke was the soft, raspy vocals of an aged man well in his fifties. Sporting a bad back from past wars, as well as several scars across his neck as souvenirs of years spent in captivity, his expression showed nothing but concern.<br/><strong>"All of which are meaningless in the current climate. We're not the only nation struggling with a bad harvest and an even worse merchant's season. Everyone is reaching for their coffers to count how many coins they have left,"</strong> Graham waved a hand in the old man's direction as he dismissed the angle as unfeasible. <strong>"When they find out how little that is, money becomes the only currency they listen to,"</strong> a grumble passed the man's lips as he circled the meeting table at which only Asher and lord Stanton sat. The other two members of Graham's inner circle were off on important duties of their own. A pity, he could have used their council on this matter, though he was skeptical they would have any other ideas.<br/><br/><strong>"Then you must concede that you need to plead for aid from the Crown. Your pride will survive, young lord,"</strong> Stanton knew he was walking on eggshells with that subject, as evidenced by a cautious glance sent Asher's way. Surely the bodyguard would also realize that their hands were tied.<br/><strong>"It's not a matter of pride, damnit! I've long since moved passed giving a damn about being the capital's laughing stock as I plead with the very king that lobbed my father's head off his shoulders,"</strong> Graham moved to lean with his forearm against the frame of a window opposite the large table. It offered him a decent view of the grounds outside, despite the lingering darkness of the early morning. <strong>"Aid from the crown will come with strings attached. Strings that'll probably seal Ashburne's fate for good. I know the bastard's been kicking himself for years now; ever since he agreed to the terms that not all my father's grounds would be divvied up among noble vultures,"</strong> a heavy sigh followed, as well as the shake of his head.<br/><br/><strong>"Still better than starvation for your people."</strong><br/>Graham turned to face Stanton. <strong>"Is it? I do believe judgement on that waits to be had. I'll find some way to fill the granaries. I always do."</strong><br/><strong>"Yes, you have the remarkable gift of being able to pull solutions straight out of your behind, my lord, no matter how deep you have to dig. But you've never had to contend with the drought and empty coffers together and to a degree you are now. We need help. Besides, the deal has not fallen through yet, correct?"</strong><br/>Graham scoffed. <strong>"Optimism from you, lord Stanton? Now I know the situation is desperate..."</strong><br/><br/>It was this noisy, albeit heavily muted conversation that Meg would perceive as she waited outside the meeting room before she was allowed in. After the usual morning meeting, the matter of her situation would be brought up. Who knew what was going to be decided now that moods were so sour?</div>