[D5 EE] Is that your flute?

[Maester Simon]

As promised, Simon walked to the Fiddle and Flower carrying a small back with him. He found the name fitting, even if he was more interested in fiddling than flowers. If the patrons were wondering why a maester had waded into their establishment, they hid it well as no-one bothered to call him out. Then again, most of the patrons were busy with food, wine, or both. He asked the innkeep for mummer Alavin as was promptly pointed in what he hoped was the right direction.

Inhaling deep, Simon knocked Alavin's door.

[Alavin]

Alavin threw open the door, beaming, “welcome!” and he moved aside to allow the Maester entrance. As promised, there was a platter piled high with fresh fruits, though the selection was heavily biased towards stone fruit known for their lush juices, the kinds that were impossible to eat without making a mess.

A pitcher, presumably of wine, stood next to a pair of goblets. The room was small and simple: a bed, a small table, a lone chair. A set of drawers, waist-high, stood in the corner, atop which was propped a lute, a lap harp, the tin flute, a set of wooden panpipes, an alto shawm, and a timbrel.

[Maester Simon]

The maester stepped into the room, glancing at the platter before returning his attention to his host. "Good evening Alavin." he greeted the mummer with a generous smile on his face. "I see you've prepared well." a small approving nod followed the statement as he sought for a seat.

Figuring Alavin wouldn't mind, Simon propped himself on the bed, leaving the chair for Alavin as he reached for a peach and brushing it against his robes. "These are so good."

[Alavin]

Alavin poured wine for both of them, presenting a goblet to Simon with a flourish, “I’m so glad you joined me.” From the small dresser, he took the panpipes. There was little floorspace, so turning the chair towards the bed put the minstrel practically at the maester’s feet.

Sitting, “I find the pipes to have an earthy quality both grounding, and alluring. If I may?” he raised the instrument to his lips, eyes on Simon.

[Maester Simon]

Simon looked Alavin curiously and took a bit of his peach, audibly sucking the juices. Slurping, he looked at Alavin, tilting his head to the side and smiling mischievously. He took an another bite before adding. "My pleasure... I hope."

Strumming his fingers over his chain, Simon eased his robes open ever so slightly. "Hmm, can't say I was ever a man of music. But I've always been curious. Please do show me."

[Alavin]

With every new unexpected turn, Alavin found himself more deeply enthralled by this maester, intrigued to follow where he was being led. Letting his eyes fall to Simon’s mouth, to his chin, to his chain, the minstrel began to play a low, haunting tune. The distant chatter of the tavern’s patrons below faded away behind the music as the man expertly plied the instrument.

[Maester Simon]

He listened, relaxing as the music filled the otherwise empty room, occasionally taking bites from his fruit. He did try to make his best to avoid disturbing the man with his snack - but also wanted to be done with it. He figured he'd have better use for his fingers soon enough. Having finished the peach, he took care to slowly lick his fingers clean as his dark eyes bored to the mummer.

[Alavin]

The music faded abruptly, Alavin leaning forward and taking Simon gently by the wrist, “allow me,” the minstrel offered in low tones, bringing the limb closer and running his tongue along the side of Simon’s hand from the wrist to the tip of his little finger. His eyes never broke from Simon’s gaze.

[Maester Simon]

"Please." Simon extended his hand to the mummer, smiling softly as he did so. "Were the men who showed you the ways as savage as you are? As insistent? If so, I am sorry for you." His voice was now softer as he leaned towards Alavin. "Passions are best served over time, rather than expended quickly and without thought."

[Alavin]

Alavin sucked in a breath through his teeth, “I learnt to take my pleasure on the run, whenever and wherever it could found.” Licking another of Simon’s fingers, the minstrel fought down the insistent and urgent desire that demanded to be sated without delay.