Pulling away, he met the other man's eyes, searching for what he could -- hesitation, deception, fear. Things were different already; smoother, warmer. Perhaps, he could hope, everything he had said had been enough for the other man to consider trusting him. That it was worth an attempt.
Thomas Starkwayte.
He paused. Thomas was a handsome name -- it suited him, really. It was charming, sweet and gentlemanly, yet with some boyish flavor that suited the risky endeavors of the other man. Starkwayte was the capital of the Imperium; he imagined that his surname simply meant he was from there? He had to search his mind for Grisic naming conventions, and in truth did not know them. In Lorien, being named after a region or city might have meant that you were its Lord, but as far as he could recall, the Imperator's lineage did not carry that name. He thought nothing of it beyond that; it was a nice name, and he was glad to know it.
"Thomas," he repeated, warmly. He loved his name. 'Ash' would quickly be on its way out. "And I was born Taelian Ela'Rannoch, but... call me Latham. Most people still call me Taelian; I crafted this secondary name to fit in with human society, but so many of my associations with it are linked to you, Thomas. Every time someone called me that, I remembered the sound on your voice. I missed your voice."
He'd pulled away, but he wanted to take the other man's hand, at least. Reaching out, he held it within his own, stroking his thumb over his palm. "It's good to meet you... Thomas. So good," he emphasized, nodding his head heartily as that smile morphed into a wide grin. "Why don't you come home, to Retzen, with me? We can stay in my hotel for the night, and then be gone come the morning. I am a Resoner; we can take one of my Resonances to my home," he said. "Or, if you still loathe magic so, we can take the train. I can't wait for you to see my estate -- you'll believe me a liar. The beds there are fantastic, the furnishings, the food. I finally have a valet, too, and a houseservant who cooks and cleans."
Listing off all of the luxuries he had felt almost gauche, but only as an aftertaste. As he spoke of the way his life had changed, he seemed genuinely glad, and proud. He had made himself the man he always wanted to be.
"I want to know more about you," he added, squeezing his hand gently. "Everything. I want to know what you've done in the time since I've seen you, and what your life has been like, and what you hope to become. There's so much time for us, now. Thomas..." he repeated his name, before peering down, cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry; my joy might be somewhat overbearing, at this moment."
