Fragments of Faith

Knock First, Visitor! [ Mir/Dust ]

A week passed in a haze, for Dust - warm and soft and safe. At times fear of her sudden vulnerability would strike, leaving her jolting upwards in a cold sweat or curling into a pained ball on the bed, but Mirthys was there, and that was enough. They slept together in the same bed almost every night, and she took comfort in that - the presence of a friend, the way her breath rose and fell lulling her to sleep after nightmares receded. The scars, with treatment, were dulling, all swelling mercifully fading away. By the time she could easily walk, swallow, talk without needing a break, she knew she was healed. It was time to go. But she hadn’t spent the entire week idle - at least, not in her head. Many waking moment, even while cuddled with her, were spent thinking on Mirthys. On what she had said of Vaermina. She had helped her. She had a child on the way. There must be some way she could help. She would research first, before broaching the subject, perhaps. To know what she might be getting into. But for now she drew herself from her thoughts, beaming at the Snow Elf and moving to flutter her lashes against her cheek - the butterfly kiss she’d shared with her before. "Thank you for everything, Mirthys."

#askdusty #ART FOR YOU BECAUSE EEEE #Cut for length - SFW

She did not want to worry Dust. But she did not want her to go, either. Mirthys sighed, bowing her head in response to the Breton's tender touch. It had been so nice to have company, to have reconciled as they had, to feel accepted and loved despite what had ailed them both. What concerned her was Vaermina's relative silence, despite her confession -- a storm was surely brewing, there. But as of yet? It had not struck.

attheborderofoblivion

"Oh- Oh, no, my apologies!" Brethyn pushed himself out of the chair, bracing a hand on the wall to steady himself as his vision swam from the sudden shift. "There’s only so much rest you ca-"

"The only remaining option is that you must like this…isn’t it?”

Brethyn takes a deep breath. No. Not here. He has work to do.

"Ah, my apologies! I’ve…I’m afraid I’ve forgotten your name, exactly…Myrdris is…definitely wrong, isn’t it?" Brethyn flashes a sheepish smile as he tries to cover his sudden stop. Now he remembers - it’s been so long since he had nightmares of that motherfucker! Why did they start again? Breathe. He has to breathe. Evenly. Breathe evenly, observe the room, talk to the strange woman, focus on the present. This isn’t the time to be slipping away into the past.

"Why don’t you tell me more about yourself as we get ready to leave? Have you been having any difficulties with your pregnancy?" Busying himself with gathering his scattered supplies was the best thing he could think of to deny the grabbing hands of unwanted rememberings. Focus on keeping the ruse. Make your movements fluid. Your smile confident and calm. This is your job. Fucking do it.

#attheborderofoblivion #Oh god I have been waiting to RP Vaermina's influence for the longest time and this is perfect!#Poor Brethyn tho

"It is Mirthys," the Snow Elf gently corrected, trying to be as reassuring as possible. "But it is a name you do not see often, yes? The blame for forgetting is not yours. No harm has been done." She could swear down that, amid the blur of movement and hurriedly gathered composure before her, there was a waver in the Dunmer's voice of something awry. Knowing that he had fallen asleep near her cursed brooch, her surmise was one of guilt. Vaermina was never far away, the Prince's stalk as close as the shadow that trailed Mirthys' every step... It did not take much prompting to work out that she was not the only one that had been paid a visit, that day. "I am well... Aside from injury of stubborn healing," she replied quickly, not wishing to broach an unwelcome subject by prying too far. If Brethyn wished to save face? She would play along. "This is why I seek you, now, if you are ready to follow? My home, it is not far."

koussikka-deactivated20240223

At her prompt he sits down on the nearest seat, eyeing hungrily the delicacies she brought. ”Thank you, they look really good.” The frosted sweetrolls are tempting but knowing they won’t agree with his stomach he moves on to the honeyed treats. Just as Koussikka is about to take one the spell stricken hair floats in the way again.

”Um, just a moment.” Seeing how honey and unruly hair aren’t the best companions, he unties the ribbon holding part of his hair back and holds it in his teeth as he quickly does a braid along his scalp. The ribbon gets woven at the end of the braid before he ties it up. It’s not enough to keep the spell completely at bay but at least the braid doesn’t float all over the place.

”There. Now, was there anything in particular you wish to know of Morrowind?” He asks, picking up a honey nut treat.

Was "I want to know everything" a suitable answer? Not meaning to undermine Koussikka's efforts to tame his hair, Mirthys wordlessly pushed a tiny pot of beeswax towards him. She sincerely smiled as she moved to pour them both some fruit tea -- he had already turned down the wax prior, but it never hurt to leave an offer open. "About Morrowind? I know very little," she began to explain. seating herself opposite the Dunmer once satisfied all was catered for. "I am thinking a good place to start is by asking you what you are missing the most. You will tell of a fond memory for me, yes?"

#koussikka

brielleroux-archive-blog

Brielle is not far behind.

She follows Mirthys with quick steps, more eager to start the conversation again than to reach the warmth of the temple. A sigh does, however, slip out at the change of temperature. And she seems to perk up at the mention of a warm drink—warm tea.

“Spiced Snowberry tea?” she repeats. This is a treat she was not expecting. “I would love to try some.”

#YA SHE SAID TEA #The foundations of a most excellent friendship it seems #And of course as I am British I must say that tea is an excellent thing to bond over #WHAT WHAT OLD FRUIT

"Yes, Snowberry tea!" Mirthys said, excitedly nodding her head. Oh, how nice it was to entertain the company of one so enthused with her craft! "It is... How you say, a speciality of my making? Very warm, on cold day!" The Snow Elf waddled over to the hearth, procuring a ladle from the side table and lowering it into the large pot suspended just above the open fire. A cheeky sample later, she was satisfied that the tea had not stewed in her absence; a good thing, as there was most certainly still plenty to go around. "Help yourself!" Mirthys cheerfully declared. She set the used ladle aside, holding out a fresh one for Brielle. "Many cups are left... Visitors must be few, today. But more tea for us, yes?"

"Then good. Don’t mind me." Aydel said with satisfiction as he stretched his legs before crossing them. He apparently didn’t intend to leave if his presence didn’t bother her.

"I’m certainly glad you enjoy both." he continued as he flashed Mirthys a smile. "It’s always a pleasure to please and entertain lovely things such as yourself."

Under his smile and his wink, however, Aydel was busy examining the strange elf. Sure, she looked nice, but also awfully pale, unusually so. Maybe she was sort of albinos, as he’d seen a few in his travels, but he wasn’t sure. And the way she spoke continued to intrigue the Dunmer.

"So you are from Skyrim?" He eventually asked, perking an eyebrow. "Because you seem way too refined for most Nords here. It’s nice to see that didn’t rub on you."

Aydel's continued presence earned him a beaming grin from Mirthys. How happy she was for such pleasant company! Polishing off the main course, she pushed the plate away from her and leaned back in her chair. She would definitely have to visit again, should cooking be a chore too many... "It is here that I am born, but only this year do I come to big cities," she nodded. "You are surprised by this? You may find many things in places you are not seeking them. Skyrim was not always land of men, and men only." Ah, but would he have known that? That was, perhaps, a step too far to assume, and Mirthys knew it the moment she made the faux pas. She reached for her cup of tea, cradling it close; a distraction from her nerves, at the least. "You must see many visit here... not just Nords." It was an obvious subject change, but nonetheless, the query was genuine. "What sort of stories are you hearing? I could share more of mine, also, if you have interest."

#thetwinjugs

Knock First, Visitor! [ Mir/Dust ]

Vaermina.

Mistress of memories, dreams, nightmares and omens. A brief flicker of a memory of her own - of her mother stroking her feverish, streaked cheek, telling her not to fear her dreams as a child. Her face grew more and more grim as Mirthys told her tale, like stone by the end of it.

Then, with a sudden renewal of strength entirely out of will, Dust pulled her fiercely close for a hug.

"Mirthys, shh. You did nothing wrong." Her lips sought her brow, touch gentle despite the gravity of her voice. "Princes give us what we want, but always at a price, and you were vulnerable. I know what it’s like." The face of a mistress, sharp and smiling. "I’ll do what I can to help you - to help you remember. Maybe even to stop it."

She should have feared her wrath. She didn’t. Oh, Dust respected all princes, certainly - powerful beings that earned it. But she feared only her own patron, and the cruellest of them. And respect was undermined, always would be, by love. Vaermina was to be respected and wary of, but Mirthys - Mirthys was loved.

Her strength left her suddenly and she released, letting herself flop heavily back onto the bed. Still, her hand never released the Snow Elf’s.

#askdusty #FRANDS 5EVR YA #;u;#I guess now is a good time to skip towards Dust's recovery and her getting towards being well enough to leave?#EEEEEEEEEE EXCITE #Long post

Relief. It flooded through the Snow Elf, washing away apprehension and guilt. In its place came a gentle caress, and a warmth like no other. She relished it, burrowing close, craving and consuming that nourishing heat like a vampire starved. This... This was the last reaction she would have expected, given the severity of what she had to confess, and the implications it held... But of it? She certainly would not protest. Whatever Vaermina's wrath might bring, Mirthys now knew that she would not have to face it alone. "... Thank you, Dust," she just barely managed to whisper, voice choked by a swell of overwhelming emotion. "Thank you so much." She swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. "This... It is meaning the world, to me. Truly." Dust's collapse was not a singular event; as if apprehension had been the only thing propping her upright, Mirthys quickly followed suit. Limply melding with the comfortable sheets, she curled up next to Dust, drawing their linked hands close to her chest. This time, there was no panic or stress, for neither had any place between them anymore. After all, it was only natural that they should both still be exhausted after such trying ordeals; it was time to rest, and rest well they both would.

brielleroux-archive-blog

This is when she would place a reassuring hand on the other’s shoulder and give a comforting squeeze. Not knowing the elf well, however, prevents her from doing so. Instead she grins and nods her head while saying, “You have a very good friend, then. And if you feel so confident about her abilities then I wouldn’t worry.”

Brielle grinned at the offer. Returning to the temple and continue to converse with someone in her profession—someone who understands—is one that she cannot refuse. “At the moment I am not, and I would be happy to continue this at the temple.”

#brielleroux #HEALER PARTY!#Pls bring sweetrolls and mead and a lot of healing expertise for those that are silly and eat too much

"Thank you..." Mirthys murmured gently, offering the other healer a small smile. "For both continued company and kind words, I am grateful. It is... Difficult, to not worry, yes? But I try not to, when the event of concern is only chance, and not certainty." Not particularly desiring to keep the conversation in the cold too much longer, Mirthys made a beeline for the open temple door. "Please, let me know if a hot drink is pleasing to you," she amicably offered, secretly glad herself for the imminent promise of a warming beverage. "The spiced Snowberry tea on temple's hearth is of my creation, and you are welcome to try it."

attheborderofoblivion

"…!" At the sound of his name, Brethyn made a confused effort to pull himself out of the doze he’d slipped into. Why was he asleep here in the first place? This was…a Temple? The Temple of the Divines…Solitude…Ulvisa’s errand…Wounded sol- The woman!

"Yes…I’m free now, sera. I…," an expansive yawn, "I’m sorry, did I keep you waiting?" The crick in his neck told him he’d been dozing against the wall for far longer than he’d originally intended when he sat down to update his notebook. Not wanting to waste any more time than he already had, Brethyn braced against the wall and shoved himself up. A quick look around showed that his pack remained where he left it, though his journal and charcoal and fallen under the chair….somehow. He quickly grabbed them up before returning his attention to his would-be patient.

#attheborderofoblivion #OH BRETHYN YOU DITZ

Brethyn's affirmation pleased Mirthys greatly, a relieved smile playing upon her lips. "Of this, I am very glad!" she cheerfully declared, clasping her hands together with glee. Her wooden replacement prosthetic felt so very odd, in its stiffness -- But it was certainly better than nothing at all. "No wait... I am sleeping. Much like you. We have same idea, yes?" She could not help but giggle, though she knew well how punishing a busy temple day could be. "But if we are serious -- Are you alright?" In compensation for her audible amusement, her smile turned sheepish, and she shot the Dunmer an apologetic look. "If busy day has tired you, does more rest in a home that is warm appeal? I am having a spare bedroll, if a nap before healing is needed... And plenty of sweetrolls, also."

He grinned all the more at the reception of his compliment, enjoying the blushing ears of Mirthys. With a short stretch of his shoulder accompanied with a sigh, he considered her words.

"Ah, well, not really. The climate is dreadful, don’t you think? And as far as friends go…" He paused, a sly smirk on his lips. "Well, I hope I will make many good friends here. That’s why I moved to Solitude."

His attention then got caught by the plate, a slight frown disturbing his eyebrows. “Eat.” He said warmly. “While it’s still warm. Wouldn’t want to have paid for a cold meal, right?” Aydel crossed his arms and legs, making himself even more comfortable in the back of his seat. “I can leave you to it, too. I know many don’t really appreciate talking over dinner.”

#thetwinjugs #Aydel need not worry about feeding Mirthys up! He definitely has a return customer in her. :'D

Oh, yes... Dunmer were not terribly fond of the cold, were they? "I do not notice climate," Mirthys meekly disagreed, appearing nigh-on apologetic for doing so. "Fal... The weather is home, for me. To imagine warm climate... It is very strange. You miss this about your homeland, yes? I can understand, very much." It had been a considerable time since Mirthys had had such an enjoyable conversation, let alone one of any notable length. This Aydel certainly seemed rather pleasant -- Enough so that his polite offer of taking his leave disappointed the Snow Elf greatly, even if it was only to allow her privacy in which to eat. "I... do not mind if you stay and talk, over food. I would like that." She had said it without thinking and quickly shrunk back in her chair, not wishing to appear over-eager. "But... only if you are not busy. Maybe another time is better?" An abashed smile preceded another blush. "I am enjoying company and meal very much. Of my future return, you can be certain."

Knock First, Visitor! [ Mir/Dust ]

At first, she thought it was simply the emotion of the moment - what she felt, too - that brought tears to her eyes. But as she spoke further, as her voice became taut with the weight of confession and her gaze moved elsewhere, Dust worried. A hand sought her own once more, squeezing gently, moving the other weakly to her cheek to try and redirect the Snow Elf’s gaze back to her own.

"…Seen things?" A frown. Her fingers moved slowly down the edges of her cheek, trying to soothe. "Danger. Mirthys - can…" A grunt of pain when she shifted wrong, raw scars protesting. "Mnf. Can you tell me what it is you see? Don’t be afraid. Dust will listen - perhaps Dust can help."

#askdusty #AND THERE WE GO #But that's not the only thing you lied about Mir #And your arse is going to get bitten so badly :V

It was a reluctant glance that greeted Dust, hastened only by her sounds of discomfort. Finding nothing of grave concern waiting, Mirthys' gaze fell once more, though the reassuring touch upon her cheek kept her head from turning away entirely in her perceived penance. "I have shame too, Dust. Much shame, and naivety. A deal I made, in exchange for life... But that deal, it was of Vaermina's doing. Now, I see memories race past, when a reminder is made. But they are twisted, warped... Wrong. And of what is real, I am not sure." She swallowed thickly, throat tight and heart pounding. The Prince would not be happy, not at all, but this... It was a relief to no longer conceal her truth, to take the first step in seeking help. "I... understand, if this is too much for friendship to survive." A watery smile, amid choked words. "I am trying very hard to get soul back, to remember who I am... But I am scared, Dust. Scared of what I will find."

A little doodle for thetwinjugs, now that I have my tablet back with me! If you're not following this wonderful mun and muse, I highly recommend you do! Of particular note is their extensive headcanon work on the Teas of Tamriel -- Well worth a read!

#OoC #Art of Mir #thetwinjugs #Also hello friends I have a week off work and I will be doing the RP thing #I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and that you enjoy the New Year!

The Dunmer couldn’t help but sigh and roll his eyes. People actually wanted to throw their coins at him, it seemed. Maybe he wasn’t the crazy one. Reaching in the purse, he pulled only four septims from it, holding each of the pieces of metal between his fingers to show them to Mirthys. Maybe she’d be satisfied now.

"I know a few languages, yes." he replied affably, making himself comfortable in the seat, legs crossed. He kept his pace slightly slower than usual, articulating clearly to make it easier on the odd elf. "Not all that many though. Dunmeri, Ta’Agra… Just a little." He frowned a little as he tried to guess what her native tongue was. He didn’t know of any that would be so ancient. Not that it bothered him much.

He smiled as Mirthys took a sip from the flavourful tea, still playing with the coins in his palm. “Skyrim is not my home, however… Or only one of many, maybe. My home is only close to my friends and family… But, back to Skyrim… Well it’s a land of opportunity, full of treasures.” He offered a wide grin and a wink at his interlocutor. “I would say you are proof of that.”

Seemingly satisfied with the increased value of the transaction, Mirthys offered Aydel a broad smile and cheeky nod. It simply would not do to underpay for goods of such quality -- Not when it was so hard for workers to make any kind of living wage, and especially if they were not human natives of the modern land. "I am sorry..." she meekly apologised, her smile developing a far more abashed quality to it. "I am thinking that this tongue is the one we will speak in best. But Dunmeris and... Tah-Ag-o-ra? It is this way you say it, yes? I would like to hear. In exchange, I offer you words of my tongue." The swift diversion of Mirthys' attention to her food was hastened further still by the continued growl of her stomach. It seemed almost a shame to dig into such a well presented meal, to spoil the aesthetic of its presentation just to sate her hunger... But the moment the tantalising flavour of the salmon hit her palette, any regard for such things went out of the window. "Ah... You know how to say the things that are right!" Mirthys giggled between mouthfuls, a light blush reddening the tips of her ears. "You sound... fond, of Skyrim. If you think it is a home, this means that Skyrim is having family and friends you value, yes? I am hoping so, for you."

#thetwinjugs

Knock First, Visitor! [ Mir/Dust ]

By the time Mirthys had finished, the effort it took to hold back tears became too much. Dust swallowed hard, giving a soft, happy little laugh and squeezing her warm hand.

"Are you sure?" Her voice was hoarse, a near croak as she weakly maneuvered to pull off her glove before moving her hand back to Mirthys - letting her feel the strange coldness of it, the raised scarring. Did she truly understand? Could she trust her?

She wanted to, gods, she wanted to.

"You must - understand." Her face fell, eyes sinking shut. "I - Dust is not - not human, not wholly. Dangerous, for a long time. Lost, for a long time. I’m myself, now, but…” Her voice cracked, hitching with a sob. “Dust cares about Mirthys. But - is understands if it is too much. If I am too much.”

#askdusty #;u;#Getting pretty close to Mir's own confession!

Mirthys' fingers trailed loosely across Dust's scars, hesitant but seeking. She had never known such curiosities in another, and likely never would again -- But what differences did the choices of Dust's past truly make? What differences should they make? And ultimately, what transgressions could possibly be worse than those of the Snow Elf's own undoing? Dust, to her, was still Dust, no matter the manifestation of her physical form. She only wished she could say the same of herself. "Dust... Please, feel no shame." Now it was Mirthys' voice that cracked, trembling timbre as shaky as the one-armed embrace that followed. "You are not alone, in burden of regrets. But you are good person, now." A loud, inelegant sniffle. "You save me, and you care. You are friend, and good one. I love you very much.... But I keep things from you. Bad things. Worse than hurt of rune." She could no longer meet Dust's gaze, too fearful of the scrutiny it might bear. But it was too late to go back, now. "I am scared, Dust... Of what I might do. Of what was done. Of danger. Of what is to come, and what has passed us by. I have... seen things. And I am not knowing what is right."

Knock First, Visitor! [ Mir/Dust ]

She’d been dreading this.

Dust swallowed hard, lips pursed, the words to come tight and edged in her throat, difficult to wrench free. She inhaled deeply as though to try and make them leave her, speaking with a shuddering exhale.

"… I - I saw what happened, Mirthys. That you were attacked. That you meant to leave the city, after our argument, and you - your hand." Her gaze flickered to the Snow Elf’s missing arm. "I was scared for you. It was my fault. I took you to the healer, the chapel, but I couldn’t stay. I didn’t know if you were still angry." A small, fragile smile crept onto the corner of her lips as she made hesitant eye contact. "… But I am glad you’re better."

Then, the harder question. Tempting to dismiss it, tell some lie, tempting to insist on silence. But to her surprise, the words that had been so difficult to dredge up left her in a rush.

"Magicka is important to me. Keeps me alive, keeps me strong." She squeezed her hand gently in return, eyes shutting. "Dust is… like… a Dwemer creation, of metal and steam. Made by someone to defend, to serve. I am flesh and blood, but I was changed, and now I don’t - I’m not - " The well of words dried up, leaving her silent for a long moment.

"… I carried you, from by the river here, running all the way to the city gates, where none could see. You were so light." Her face softened, eyes blinking open, but glassy as she described a feat which should have, by rights, been impossible. What a sight it would have been, if she were seen - a tiny woman herself, carrying the pregnant elf in her arms like a babe, dashing as quick as safety would allow to try and get her friend to safety.

"… I was so worried about you."

"You... Saved me?" The more Dust spoke, the wider Mirthys' eyes drew, and the wetter her ruddy cheeks became. Not for a beat did she settle upon the threadbare tapestry of her memory of the attack, those threads left hanging by Sinbadaen as he had fled from the loom in dismay. The imagery Dust was weaving, here, was more important still. The scars... The need for magic... Creation... Her heart lurched as the enormity of the confession slowly sunk in. Dust had literally been taken apart and pieced back together. But how? What was this magic, the magic that sustained her, that granted her life? There was no way to know for certain, but it did not matter. It would never matter. Mirthys had learned better than that, to judge a person by their heart and not by a superficial aspect -- To be any other way would be an insult to Dust, given the context of their argument prior. "Of what you are? I do not care," the Snow Elf tremulously piped up. "Friends... They are not turning their back on friend, in time of need." Her gaze drifted down towards the hand still encased snugly in her own, brushing her thumb tenderly against the Breton's skin. "You are still Dust in heart, in soul, even if in body it is different." She managed a wobbly smile, then, voice cracking. "Forever grateful I am to you, for care, and friendship... Thank you, so much, for being there when I am needing you most. Now it is my turn, to do same for you."

#askdusty #D'AWWWWW

Aydel was still looking amused by her comment, having laughed softly at the idea of what kind of pilgrim he would even use. He doubted anyone worshipping Peryite would ever make a nice meal. He did not say anything however as she continued, simply accepting the purse, and spilling a few coins in his palm.

It didn’t take all that long to count. It was fortunate he had means to keep his prices relatively low, considering the quality of the food. Always made it easier for customers to order more than a few pints. As long as there was a margin of profit, even small, it was all that mattered in his eyes. Better a Nord consuming a hundred cheap drinks than a single one paying for them all.

Still, he’d have to discount the strange elf’s meal.

"Here." He said with a smile as he gave the purse back, keeping a handful of septims in his pocket. "That will be enough."

He coulend help but wink as he leaned on the back of his own seat. “Maybe along a few tales or details about you. Always nice to get to know people. And I have to admit, I don’t recognize your accent.”

He then nodded toward the plate and the cup of tea. “But please, drink and sate yourself, first… Careful on the tea, it might be a tad strong. Lots of agrums and spices in there.”

#thetwinjugs #I figure she'll show him the arm once she's done eating and feels more relaxed. ^^

Appearing rather surprised at the weight of the returned coins, Mirthys gave Aydel an uncertain look. "Are you sure?" she questioned, her line of sight alternating between the little bag and the Dunmer. "You work hard, just as I do. It is only right to pay what is due, yes?" Stubbornly, she pushed the purse back into the middle of the table, though her smile persisted. "I will leave this here. You will take more money if more is needed, I hope?" Once satisfied that the meal tab would be appropriately settled, Mirthys clasped her hands around the steaming cup of tea, savouring its warmth. Drawing it to her mouth and taking a tentative sip, her eyes widened; Aydel certainly had not been jesting when he said that the brew might well have a bit of a spicy zing! "My accent?" she replied, neatly placing the cup in front of her before continuing to speak. "Ah, yes... You see, common, it is not my first tongue." Was it wise to divulge that she was technically local, so soon? Perhaps it would be best to omit that, for now. "My language... It is not spoken in Skyrim, not in Fourth Era. But old tongue of ancestors has roots in many new ones, and in common! I work hard to understand." Mirthys paused, smile unwavering. "And you?" she queried in turn, highly curious to learn more of this very accepting host. "You must hear many languages, see many people, know many things. Why do you choose Skyrim for your home, and your business?"

Knock First, Visitor! [ Mir/Dust ]

"Good…" That was enough for her to let go, at least for a moment. Dust sank into the bed, eyes drifting shut, a moment of respite from the sting of her eyes and ache of limbs. The back of her hand was hot and swollen with scarring even under her glove, but at least her palm was blessedly cool. She pressed it against her throat as she waited, taking slow, deep breaths, only opening her eyes when Mirthys returned.

Even through glass, she could smell them. The magicka potions, body screaming for them, nose twitching, mouth watering. She forced herself upwards to almost tear apart the sack, eyes wide, pupils shrinking. Magicka, magicka, magicka, needneedneed -

The bottle was emptied before she’d realized it, then a second, left drained on her lap as she inhaled deep. Pure bliss, the sensation of energies coursing through her. So much so that for a moment she only stared blankly at the offered sweetroll, a little dribble of the potion at the corner of her lip.

"Ah - " Flushing she wiped her cheek, exhaling, giving a slow shudder. "… Thank you, Mirthys." She smile was returned, then the laughter, accepting the sweetroll only to tear it in half and offer the other piece back.

"Best to share."