lumberlady | Noctium

i think he'll understand.
whatever you decide to do.
i'm sorry that was hard for you.

it was foolish of i to hope for lover treatment
even before i remember MARILLA night information
i know NIKOLAI is not i 's
i 's is not here, is all.
just bed is lonely sometimes
is not good enough reason to be cold.

but now that ALINA absolves
i can talk to.
so i will apologize.
if forgiven, surely all return to normal.
is good thing.

[Ah... there is no end to Chiron's multitude of talents. Except in perhaps in completely getting the human perspective. She's an adorable babe. Konoha must mis-... Waver's eyes drop slightly when he sees clothing for an infant jinba and he continues setting up the feast for two.]

Almost. You steep the tea with the cinnamon, cardamom pods, and rose petals for about five minutes, then you add the saffron and steep for another three to four minutes. Then, you just add the honey until it's as sweet as you like.

[He's not a good cook, but he can make tea and coffee fairly well, even if something fancy like saffron tea or turkish coffee only happens when the moon is blue.]

[There really hadn't seemed to be. Once his lies about being simply just a centaur had unraveled when his mana diminished and he couldn't hide that two-legged form any longer, he'd also stopped bothering pretending he wasn't capable at almost every skill under the sun... Except some that really mattered. Like how to relate to people, to make friends, to actually be just a jinba. Er, centaur.

She liked to think she had helped with that.]

Ah, in that case...

[She returns to the kitchen corner and returns with a tea set, water hot and ready for steeping, set down beside him before she lumbers more comfortably to her belly, legs curled up under her and a pillow pressed under a lower shoulder.]

I'm sorry, you're my guest, but... Would you mind making it? I'd hate to mess up the tea when the food looks so nice...

[There was a certain art to tea, after all. And he was the more experienced... and the food really was interesting looking? The colors and arrangements and smells... It isn't like much of anything she would encounter in her own world, her own time.]

[ Ah. Alina understands now. Even she still misses Mal sometimes, gets lonely without him, but she's not sure she can tell Konoha that. It feels greedy to have someone like Nikolai and still want for more some nights. Even before that, loneliness was a constant thread in her life; it led her to more than one questionable decision. ]

i know what it's like to be lonely
and how we don't always act the way we should or want to because of it.
i think he will understand.

[That's the heart of it, as selfish as she feels it must be. Now that she remembers this night, she also remembers a certain Mal character, but... She also remembers promising to keep it secret, so-]

is bad thing about marriage, i guess
become used to not sleeping alone

i will send sweets to home
peace offering
ALINA please enjoy also.

Of course. It's no trouble.

[It's no real imposition on him, truly. He knows how to make it, she's unsure, and circumstances wouldn't allow him to protest even if it were not the case.

He hums faintly as he brings the water up to heat, inhaling the slightly sweet green scent of the loose silverly white tea leaves he brought, before he portions out a measure to steep into the pot. In right after, go a cinnamon stick, cardamon pods, and the dried rose petals. All that's left is waiting to add the honey and saffron, and since he's not grinding the later, he'll need to use more for flavor.

Five minutes pass and red threads of spice join the brew. Three more and honey is drizzled in and stirred.]

There. Ready.

[Part of her thinks that she ought to be silent. She’d heard somewhere that’s what you were supposed to do for those fancy tea ceremonies that lords and tea masters hosted in their palaces and thatch roofed huts… but though it’s fascinating to watch, and she still does, Konoha can’t bring herself to be that quiet. Not now, when doing so means thinking about someone who isn’t there enjoying this with them.

In between steps she asks about the food, what’s what, marveling at foreign names and bright colors, exercising her job at hosting at least in arranging plates, passing out utensils (fork? chopsticks? she brought her both), so that when the tea is ready so is the food.]

It smells amazing…

[Nothing like the green tea and barley tea she was used to, not even some of the black and herbal teas she’s been introduced to by other people since. The cups poured, she lifts one to her face and inhales, exhales with a flutter of a sigh… and takes her first sip.

Oh…]

It tastes amazing, too!

[Even in sadness, good food and drink was enough to bring a bit of luster back to her eyes, setting her cup down to clap her palms together in grateful prayer.]

Let’s eat while everything is still hot- !

[And while they did… perhaps he would tell her a bit more. About the side of Chiron maybe she didn’t know.]

[Fork helps, so does chopsticks for things like biryani, but look, the naan? The garlic naan can be used as a wrap to heap the food from the other dishes on, and then you roll it up and eat it just so---

Yes, napkins help too! It can be messy. Or you use the naan to mop and scoop up the remaining sauces and eat it that way too. Either way it's delicious.]

Yes, let's!

[And, later, as they ate... Waver's expression is steadily growing more pensive. Adrift in some memory...]

... Chiron and I never talked about the Grail Wars we were in. I wonder what he would have thought if he learned I broke apart that senseless waste of lives. I and others.

I don't regret it. [Dismantling it.] But. I still wonder...

Edited 2021-10-02 06:23 (UTC)

[Konoha is a good student... at least when it comes to this sort of arena that requires little in the way of formal memorized education she lacked growing up or cultural mores far beyond her own. She eats what he points out, combines what seems tasty, marvels at how useful the "naan" bread is as a plate, utensil, and food on its own. The spiciness isn't what she's used to, she does fan at her tongue a time or two, but it is good, and she asks questions, learns quite a lot in her crash course on Indian cuisine, including that her favorite might just be the chickpea stew, but with a mouthful of it-

Chiron's name brings her back to what the food, what Waver's presence right now, here in this barn that felt so empty by herself, meant. Slowly, she chews, listening as her spoon drifts back to the chana masala, filling it again but... not bringing it back up.]

You... you broke it?

[She doesn't know what to ask but that, to invite him to explain what he meant by that. You couldn't... break a war, could you? Did he mean the magic cup? The system that seemed so cruel, that allowed the spirits of heroes past to be summoned in the first place?

She almost hopes it's that one.]

Yes.

[And it was so costly.]

I didn't do it alone, but I dismantled the Grail and its system.

[ That's not a problem Alina ever thought she would encounter, but one day she'll be back and sleeping alone again too. ]

thank you.
you'll have to teach me how to make treats some day.

[it sux…]

this i will gladly do
roommate is vanished so now barn is only one
ALINA can visit any time

[ Natural disasters. Like storms, like floods. Like volcanoes erupting to form new landmasses, like things that made fertile lands barren and void of life.

Cardan feels an uncomfortable sort of kinship to the dragons, just then. ]

It is different.

[ He doesn't elaborate for a moment, electing to, instead, frown at his mostly empty goblet. It's difficult to find the words to express it, which, if he were more sober, he would blame on the drink. ]

Not just good or bad-- it's different. I did not know it in Faerie. Jude grew up alongside us, and even though we told her she was beneath us, in action and thought she is as fey as I am. So I thought. So I think, still, more often than not.

But there is a difference. We love differently. We-- weigh actions on different scales. [ He raises his hands as if to illustrate, a little helplessly. ] I still do not understand it, sometimes: what mortals are thinking, why you do the things you do.

I wonder if his dragons were the same.

[In this state… if he says it’s different then… Sure. It’s different. Konoha nods a bit absently, distracted by her next bite of fruit, eyes slipping half-closed. Thankfully? she would have agreed even unintoxicated by the rotting, too-sweet tang of everapple, but… she would have done it more eloquently.

She would have said that it made sense, because you are what you’re raised in, what you’re told, and if your culture is just that different from another’s then there will be gaps and struggles to understand. But what she says instead is,]

Mmm… I don’t know. Sometimes things are different.

[Another bite, another little hum.]

Jinba and humans can be really different… and faeries… and I guess dragons…

[But on that, she is just guessing because,]

I don’t know… He didn’t say. We talked about his village more… Cute little… cute little Estinien herding livestock…

[That was a much sweeter image. Before the fire and the ashes.]

[ He blinks at her, a bit taken aback-- it's not the reaction he's expected, only because to him the revelation has been a long and difficult one to grasp, and even now he has trouble expressing the breadth of the difference between mortals and the Folk. But she is... intoxicated, as is he, and...

And that means that the everapple had worked just as expected. Which is fine.

It's what she agreed to, is it not? There was no trick, no intent to be unfair on his part. She could have said no. She could have asked questions.

She could have mistrusted him.

He can feel his own pulse pounding in his head. He would like, very much, to think about cute little Estinien herding livestock. He would like to not see the glittering trail of juice as it snakes over her wrist and down her forearm. It hardly matters. She will sleep it off, and all will be well tomorrow. ]

Konoha.

What do you feel like?

[ He's trying not to sound sullen about it, and only succeeding partway. ]

[Konoha’s simpleminded thinking has saved her more than once, which was perhaps only fair for all the flack it sometimes earned her instead. In this case… wasn’t it better? She had grown up with humans in a body that would never pass as one of them, but she’d also been placed in a position to receive jinba fresh from the breeding stables, from the mountains, and so she’d always known… there were differences.

Rather than try to puzzle out the whys and every how… she just started off with acceptance. They were just different sometimes. That was fine, most of the time, even if there were certain lines…

Oh, a question! Attentive to anything directed her way, she blinks her eyes back open to look at Cardan. How did she feel?]

Me? Good… ?

[She might have forgotten why she shouldn’t feel good, but… There was something, she remembers, because it’s why his voice is like that… Right-]

But also… kind of bad… ?

[Weird to say as that was worn the slightly vacantly pleased look on her face, honest as ever as answers just spill from her lips.]

Estinien promised he would help me with my heats… now he’s gone… and Cardan’s mad and won’t hold my hand…

[He was all the way across the table… and she almost reaches but she notices the juice and has to pause to lap it off her skin. Couldn’t let it stain his nice table…]

How should I feel… ?

[If he’d just tell her…]

Edited 2021-10-03 05:22 (UTC)

To your left.

_{[ She could stay still, but does she? Absolutely not. As soon as she spots Konoha peeking in, Morga musters up every ounce of control she has to pull herself into what she feels is a sitting position only it... looks clumsy and awkward as hell. Her front, uh... legs push her upper body into something more upright, but her back end stays halfway on the haybales she'd managed to plop down on earlier and halfway onto the floor with both rear legs going this way and that. It hardly looks comfortable but there's something to be said about feline flexibility.

Morga herself on the other hand looks uncomfortable with the faintest hints of a scowl as she tries to get the extra limbs to cooperate. Her lower half wasn't the only thing that changed either - it almost looks like parts of her face shifted into something distinctly more feline, perhaps to make room for the extra teeth and other subtle changes, and the dark streaks that were once made of kohl seem more...

Permanent. And made up of fine, soft black fur rather than makeup. ]}

Come in. It's, ah... You can see why I called.

[ Cardan... rubs his hand over his face, somewhat inelegantly, as the spate of conflicting emotions converges in his head. Guilt, sadness, intrigue, a sort of sick curiosity... He could ask her so many questions, could sit here and revel for hours. Surely, in this state, she would not ask him to stop, or to slow down, or to drink less. It would be fun. He could make it fun, for both of them.

His sigh is resigned. ]

...I will hold your hand.

[ Even though he's getting up as he says it. He doesn't go far, at least-- only ducks into the kitchen, pulling out a jar. ] If you will can still bear to, after this.

[ This being him coming back, but not to sit this time. This time, he leans over her, jar still in hand, his face shuttered. ]

Open your mouth.

[ If she does -- and why wouldn't she? -- she will find him shaking a few crystals of salt onto her tongue. And if he tenses in anticipation of the spell being broken, it's only because he doesn't know what Konoha's anger looks like, doesn't know what to expect from her.

It's strange. By Faerie law, he's done nothing wrong. He dreads her reaction anyway. ]

[It could be argued that Konoha was an open book most any day… it’s a credit to the strength of an everapple that she’s somehow more easy to read under its influence, the emotions soft and rounded, such simple things to manipulate or prod in the direction one wished.

Perhaps they could have had plenty of fun. He could have drunken himself under the table and a Konoha intoxicated in her own way would have let him. She would have laughed obligingly at all his jokes and talked about anything and everything he wanted until he didn’t want to anymore, and any request he had whether it had been companionship or willing blindness or distraction or wallowing she would have gladly tried to meet it.

Instead, she just waits a bit dumbly with a little smile on her face because he said he’d hold her hand and that made her happy. He asks her to open her mouth and why wouldn’t she? She tips her head back and obeys, even helpfully sticks out her tongue just a bit for the salt crystals to dissolve upon.

But something else dissolves with it, and slowly… more awareness returns to Konoha’s dark eyes. Her pupils return to their proper size, her gaze focuses on Cardan… and pieces fall into place, if not a bit blurrily and unsure. So that’s what they did… those sweet, sweet things. Faerie food.

For a half second she almost misses how distant and nice everything had seemed. But only half a second. Konoha had never been one to refuse to face things for how they were, no matter how people sometimes guessed otherwise.

She closes her mouth and swallows the rest of the salt taste down… and then holds out her hand.]

…

[If she was angry, if she was planning on having words with him over essentially drugging her… Perhaps they were yet to come.

For now, she just curls her fingers in the air and stares at him expectantly, quiet and reserved, the full reaction locked away as tightly as a woman like her could manage.]

[What a simple answer to something that surely had to be insanely complicated? "Yes." She almost doesn't even know what to do with it at first, just staring at the mage across the spread of a delicious new foods.

"Dismantled"...]

Then... It's already over? Chiron- the other Servants, too... They don't have to keep being Summoned and fight anymore... ?

[Though she had found that fate cruel, from where she herself stood, from what she wanted for the man who had been a foundation and a friend in this place... How is it that when she says it out loud now she worries that it might not be relief for necessarily everyone?

Was this timelines again... ? That Lord El-Melloi (the II!) came from a time beyond what Chiron knew, or... ?]

[You know what... Morga is trying! Konoha is proud of her! But at the same time, yes, she is also... yes, she does know this shape. It's the... is it the "sphinx"? The cat jinba... ! Oh, she misses the last one she had known...

But first, alright, she's coming in- !]

Pardon me...

[She enters, shifting the bundles in her saddlebags and twisting about to pull them off her withers, ready to dive in and help. Clothes were good for modesty, but if Morga couldn't get a handle enough on her body...]

You've been here since last night?

[Oh no, should she have brought food, too?]

[ He watches her come to. Resignation and anxiety churn inside him, at odds with each other. He's not sure if moving back to his seat will make things worse, and so he doesn't, only leaning against the table as he waits. For the first few moments he watches her, and then realizes he's staring, and looks off into the distance instead.

It's almost fine, waiting. The silence of their breathing in the room. It's almost bearable.

He catches the movement of her hand in his peripheral vision. Frowning, Cardan looks over -- and, for a moment, freezes, studying her face. She looks only calm, and his tail twitches and then begins beating in an anxious rhythm against his leg. When has he ever not been able to read Konoha? It's disquieting.

But he did not lie. And whatever his fate, he supposes it's only fair he submit to it. He unfolds his arms from the defensive posture he'd inadvertently taken while waiting, and closes his fingers around her warm brown hand, feeling the familiar callouses against his skin.

His shoulders stay tense, and his tail stays anxious. Like a dog with a torn-up slipper, he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. ]

[Outwardly, the change is subtle. Inwardly... how strange it seems to Konoha now, to realize that just a minute or so past she would have been willing to do anything Cardan asked her. More importantly... she feels like she might have been willing to do anything anyone asked her. And though she might appear to some to be too trusting, perhaps naive...

She knew just as well as anyone what could happen with such a thing in callous or cruel hands.

Hers, though... once Cardan obliges her request (demand?), they're as gentle as they always are when Konoha laces her fingers with him and squeezes. The link of synchrony would make her feelings a bit clearer, perhaps. The sadness of missing Estinien and remembering he was gone. The longing for comfort, a balm for the loneliness she feels in a world without the person she loves most. The disappointment she feels... But as to why she feels it-]

... Would it have made you feel better? If I just went along with anything you wanted?

[Would that really have been satisfying? Not knowing if she was actually happy or just going along with his suggestions and whims? Would it have cured the ache of losing a friend to potentially manipulate another?

She doesn't want to think so.]

You don't need to give me something like that... For me to talk with you about anything.

[What a world he must have come from, she thinks... That he might use an everapple and then make conversation, like it might be the only way someone would open up or be honest.]

I'm sorry if I made you think that wasn't true.

[So perhaps she isn't angry. But perhaps what she was... was a little worse. Or rather... a little less simple.]

[ In a way, Cardan is relieved. He doesn't know what he expected from her reaction, not exactly, not insofar as he wants to give his thoughts shape. But to him, this is still better than anger, or disgust. Disappointment... is familiar. Whom in his life has he not disappointed?

He has no good answer for her. Not right away, anyway. His own expression is shuttered, even as he remembers -- too late -- that Synchrony shows too much in instances like these.

He is hurt, and angry, and horrified, and... ashamed, too, there's that, and that's the worst of them, is it not? It only deepens as she speaks -- the shame and the regret, too.

But it's not like he's suddenly changed. It's not like the man who gave her the everapple is not the same man who's holding her hand now.

His mouth twists. ]

...I wanted to be on an even playing field.

[ That's the truth of it. He could justify it more -- could tell her that he didn't think she'd get too addled, that everapple would just affect her as liquor does him, but-- that's all peripheral. ]

You didn't want me to drink. My wife doesn't, either.

[ He tries not to make it an accusation. It's just fact, is it not? He knows it's because they care, because they think he's hurting himself, but-- ]

I know that I am a difficult man to love. I want to be better. But--

[ His voice breaks off. The words are hard to find: they stick to his teeth like taffy, ball up in his throat in a hard lump. He makes himself look at her, with eyes that are just a touch too bright, and if his grip on her hand is suddenly hard, he doesn't seem to notice.

When he speaks again a few seconds later, he seems to have composed himself again. It's different from what he'd meant to say, only because the other thing, the thing that made him react so strongly, is so awkward to put into words. ]

It was wrong, to offer you that and not tell you what it could do. I will never trick you like that again. You have my word.

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