Watching the vampire handling his sword did something to Liam. It was kind of intimate, in a way. This was the first time someone else held his beloved weapon, since he'd received it. The slave remembered curling up around it in lonely nights, whispering sweet nothingness to it, as he sometimes even kissed it. After all his sword had been his only companion during some years of terrible loneliness.
“I am not sure, master. I know it belonged to the family of my former mistress. It's a replica of those kind of falchions, that were made when armor was being improved.” Liam carefully stood up. Some of the feeling had returned to his legs, but with it came a very unpleasent burning pain. He ignored it as he lifted his hand to touch the point of the tip. “Knights were able to penetrate mail with a hard enough thrust...” He then lightly wrapped his hand around the blade at the tip, then slowly slid his fingers down towards the hilt, as he looked into the vampire's eyes almost inquiringly. He wasn't sure himself what he was doing, but his fingers were now very close to the other one's, and he itched to let them run over the vampire's skin.