mirage ; python/troylus ; white elephant

Troylus felt like the king of the world as he strode in the bar with his pouch full of coins. It was more money than he had ever had in his life before, a gift from his captain for returning the ring he’d lost. Obviously he would send most of it home to his parents, but for tonight, he planned on having fun and buying drinks for all the sailors who usually bought for him, as well as maybe buying a round or two for the whole bar.
“First round’s on me, lads!” He had announced, getting a thrill just from saying the words when normally he had to be so careful with his money.
The lashing he’d received a week ago still made his back ache, but the pain was a distant memory by the time he’d finished his third drink.

He ordered another for the whole room, and blushed shyly at their applause and shouts of thanks. It made him feel warm and fuzzy...but that might have been the alcohol too. One of the drinks he’d bought was carried to a customer by a buxom barmaid. The old man raised his glass in salute to Troylus and then slapped the barmaid on the buttocks, hard enough that she nearly dropped her tray. Troylus heard the slap all the way across the room and rose to his feet, a worried frown on his handsome face. Troylus couldn’t stand that sort of behaviour towards women. The barmaid was already hurrying away, out of the lech’s further groping hands, and Troylus started to go towards her, wanting to ask her if she was alright. A pretty young woman stepped backwards into his path and he had to either stop or knock her down.
She giggled drunkenly and smiled up at him, “I know you. You’re the man with all the money.” She reached out a hand and gripped his forearm, possibly to help her maintain her balance, then cooed at his muscles. “You’re even prettier up close.”
He smiled at her, still unused to the flattery and charm, even though it was happening more and more these days. He’d been a late bloomer, and only just changed from a small boy, to a towering, broad chested man in the last couple of years. Women seemed to flock to him, but he still thought of himself as that weedy little pipsqueak that no one would find attractive. “Ah, thanks miss.” As always, he kept his eyes on her face. He’d been taught by his Ma that it was rude to stare at a woman, and that he must never let his eyes roam about her like a hunk of meat. He blushed once more, the pink showing through his tanned bronze skin. “You are too.”
“My friends and I really appreciated the drinks,” she purred and smiled brightly up at him, although her eyes seemed a little unfocused. “If you like, we can go somewhere and I can make it up to you.”
He missed the blatant come on, mistaking her meaning completely in his innocence. “There’s nothin’ ta make up, miss. Drinks are on me. You and your friends should have a nice evenin’ and don’t let it worry you none.”
“I’d rather have a nice evening in private with you,” she giggled, and tried to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him, almost overbalancing and having to cling to his arm tightly
He held onto her hand so she wouldn’t fall but stood tall so that she couldn’t kiss him, finally understanding what she was doing. “I think you should sit down, miss.”
She let him guide her into a chair and looked around a little lostly.
He crouched next to her, “Where are your friends, miss? We should get you back to ‘em.”
She giggled again and leaned against him, nuzzling slightly, “They will totally understand if I go home with you. It’s fine.”
He patted her hand reassuringly, “That is a real big compliment, miss, but I don’t think it’d be right.” He winced, “Don’t mean to be rude, but you seem ta have had just a little bit too much ta drink, and I don’t take women home, unless they’re fully able ta consent to all that, when they’re sober and what have ya.”
She pulled a face, trying to parse what he had just said, and whether it had been an acceptance or a rejection. She gave up and waved a hand in the vague direction of a table of young women near the wall, “They’re over there. You should come and say hi.”
He helped her to her feet and carefully escorted her to her friends. feeling her rejection and not wanting her to feel sad he took her hand and gave it a flirtatious kiss, winking at her roguishly so that she’d feel the most beautiful woman in the room, before stepping away.

He tried to recall what he had been doing before she had stepped into his path and recalled the sleaze man. he peered about the smoky room and spotted the culprit sitting near the front door, ogling a very attractive redhead who had just walked into the bar. She was stunningly beautiful, with long athletic, legs, the most defined and well muscled he’d ever seen on such an attractive woman. Troylus saw with horror that the sleazy man was reaching up behind the woman, as if to slide a hand under her trenchcoat and up her thighs.

Troylus suspected that she couldn’t see the man, because of the angle. Troylus wouldn’t allow another woman to be molested at this man’s hands. Not tonight. Not on his watch. He launched himself across the room, grasping the man’s hand before it could perform its offence, and twisted it painfully behind his back. “You keep your hands to yourself, mate, you hear me? We don’t want none of that here.” With that he shoved the man out the open door, nodding with satisfaction as he fell into a melting dirty puddle of snow outside. Troylus looked up at the red-head, running a hand through his adorably messy straw-coloured hair, smiling shyly. “Sorry about that.”