the maiden healer

Soup and Conversation // Cara & Alistair

Alistair was weary already. Not long after getting back, he was seemingly back doing his duties. All he truly longed for was an opportunity to return to his sketches and his projects, but with the prospect of a sick troop of rangers, avoiding that problem was perhaps something best done early and soon. There’d be time to relax later, right?

Regardless, the girl he had met earlier was both enthusiastic and kind, perhaps more so than he on both accounts. He had in his pockets compensation for her, but he had the impression that, for her, this wasn’t solely about the money. Of course, he could be wrong, but there was no way of truly knowing without getting the chance to speak to her more. Alistair vaguely hoped that a bit of conversation was in the cards for tonight, seeing as what the rangers had to offer in that respect wasn’t exactly to his taste right now.

"Ah, hello. Are you sure? It looks quite empty here," he said good-naturedly, making sure to remove his dirty boots before stepping inside.

"If only I could make something that smelled half so good as this," Alistair said with a smile as he entered. "I really do appreciate this, you know. It’s…I don’t know."

#p: alistair #p: soup #THIS IS SO LATE I'M SORRY

"Ah, yes, I quite apologize for the mess, sir." Cara bowed her head slightly. "I hadn't had the time to clean all this clutter up." She shut the door tightly against the wind, then brushed past her guest with a quick apology to tend to the soup.

She crumbled up the basil leaves in her hands, then sprinkled them across the top of the concoction. Her mother had taught her this trick--she said it added flavor to the dish and made the entire thing look nicer. Odessa Wystern had offered to assist Cara, but she had declined, for she had made a promise that she intended to fulfill without help. In that aspect, she was proud.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," she smiled, picking up her spoon and stirring the soup a few times to let it settle. "What sort of person would I be if I didn't help the people keeping the rest of us safe?" She put the spoon to the side, and fitted the top of the pot firmly on.

asamisatosarchive

source

#fc

lyricunsung

Adrift || Cara & Lyric ||

lyricunsung

The noise in the quiet haven was as a ripple in a cool and calm pond, traveling out louder than intended, especially to the focused attentions of one very introverted scholar. Disturbed from her readings, she turned her glare slowly upwards, the steel in her eyes nothing compared to the chill of her manner as she simply listened to the woman chatter on in the sacred zone as if to outshine the flies in annoying buzzing sounds. Lyric merely blinked at the name, eyes narrowing slightly as she replied with the normal bluntness that was her nature.

"Why should I remember it?"

It seemed there was no studying now that the threads binding her focus had been lost. She slammed the tome shut with a dusty thud, loud and cracking even in the quiet of the library.

"I have a limited space for knowledge in my head, so pray tell why you find your name to be so important that it’d take up important room."

#p: adrift #p: lyric #cara is just like. a wilting violet.#wait that's not it #a shrinking violet!#that's it

If looks could kill, Cara would have been dead already. She had heard of stories of witches that could harm with just a glance, and she was glad that Lyric wasn't one of them. At least, she thought not.

She stuttered in response, trying to fit her tongue to the words she wanted to say. "I-I saw you in the s-square the other day and I just thought it w-was a strange coincidence to see y-y-you again. M-my name isn't anything i-important, I just…"

She trailed off, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. "I wanted to thank you for telling me to h-hurry home. Anything could have happened to me out alone, and I would like t-to thank you."

Soup and Conversation // Cara & Alistair

Her shop was an absolute mess. Cara had spent the past hour or so cooking the broth that she'd promised the ranger, and as she had to add ingredients at certain times and make sure the pot didn't bubble over, she hadn't had the time to tidy up. She doubted that disorganization would deter her guest--Alistair, as he'd introduced himself--from picking up the broth, but she felt embarrassed to have her place of work in such a mess. It was unprofessional, almost childish.

But there was no time to worry about tidying up while she added the last few touches to the broth. These were mostly for taste--a few leaves of basil and a sprinkling of pepper were not exactly crucial ingredients. She'd given Alistair the address to her house before she'd bid him farewell, and as the sun was just beginning to set in the sky he should be here any time soon.

At a knock on the door Cara jumped with a start, spoon still in hand, but quickly placed it down again and recovered herself. She stopped to smooth down the front of her dress before opening the door with a warm smile. "Hello again! Come right inside, the broth's nearly done."

#p: alistair #p: soup #what is a para title is that a fruit

lyricunsung

Adrift || Cara & Lyric ||

The stone walls of the University were immense, large and daunting in their cold poise, as if to proclaim ‘within lies knowledge beyond imagining’. It was as though the feeling of lofty education was scrawled in writing across every room, a lonely vigilance that often accompanied such feelings. Although, of course, that was how the scholars preferred it. These were not mortal men, no! These were those of the educated sort! Lyric had no use for their pompous machinations, and so rarely ventured these halls. She vastly preferred her wing, bare and chilly yet somehow comfortable to her. Behind that, of course, was the University’s impressive library.

Books lined the walls, spines and scrolls shelved lovingly by many hands of the withered and the young. It was in this haven Lyric often found herself, lost amid towering trees of information, runes and words offering comfort and security no other could offer her. There was something so solid and unwavering about facts that made her feel safe. Comfortable. Her fallback.

She sat at the table, pouring over a text she had read a thousand times before, old myths, tales of religion. Lyric found them absolutely fascinating, incredible detail and lessons woven so skillfully. She found a sort of delight in it that she dared not tell anyone, for who enjoyed such things other than children and the feeble minded? And yet she read it again and again, focused. A few older scholars drifted about, but they all knew this was her haunting place, and kept far from her, out of the way. As it should be.

Caradoc rarely ventured beyond the University's walls. As both a woman and half a savage, she felt highly uncomfortable among the gazes of the scholars. To them, she was an oddity, a rare specimen to be examined, and she wasn't fond of their stares. Yet she couldn't find it in herself to condemn them for their behavior, as they were learned men, worthy of respect.

She had been called to the library of the university to pass herbs that she'd collected on to one of the scholars, and now that her job was done she found herself wandering among the rows of books, looking them up and down. Her mother had taught her the alphabet when she was younger, and she knew how to spell her name and a few words besides, but she had never had the opportunity to read an entire book. She traced her hand along one as she passed, feeling the ribbed spine under her fingertips.

This section of the University was mostly empty, but for a few patrons who floated about the desks and shelves. Out of the corner of her eye, the long dark hair of a woman caught her attention. Upon closer inspection, Cara found that it was the lady with whom she had talked the previous night, the one who had warned her about the fey.

She shuffled quietly over to the woman, careful not to disturb the silence of the library. "Hello, milady," she half-whispered. "I met you yesterday, I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. My name's Caradoc Wystern."

Anyone have a spare penny?

I can’t say I’ve met many girls with that name.

I…well, I can’t say I would mind it, but would that be fine with you?

It's not a girl's name, historically. My mother insisted on naming me thus, and she's what you'd call a… a savage, so our--their naming customs aren't exactly the same. Alistair, on the other hand, that's a proper man's name.

I'll whip something up, have it done by the time night falls. How does that sound?

#c: alistair

thewildranger

Um … a healer that doesn’t work at night?

'Twas a rhetorical question, but I see your point.

#c: sydney

Anyone have a spare penny?

If it were up to me, I’d accept, but most of them would have to be on their deathbeds before they allowed me to bring help.

I’m Alistair, by the way - who might I have the pleasure of meeting?

#c: alistair #dude that would be awesome make it so

Caradoc Wystern, sir. I live just down the lane.

I've got an idea--why don't you let me make a nice broth, and you can tell them that you bought it?

Oh, you can't go zhat way.

Ravens.

Oh. Well, I've heard they're very smart.

#c: ursula

Anyone have a spare penny?

Oh, well, I thank you for your recognition.

Unfortunately, I think some of them may be getting that way. Hoping a good night’s sleep gets rid of that, though…

#cue magical girl transformation #BY THE POWER OF HERBS I AM HEALER GIRL #or whatever #i never actually watched sailor moon don't judge me #c: alistair

Do you need someone to attend to them? I am a healer, though admittedly a young one, but I'm sure I could examine your comrades if you like. If need be I could even do a little cooking of my own.

thequiethuntsman

"I— I beg your pardon?" Adrian asked, truly wondering if she was talking to him. He just happened to be passing by… but encouraged by her words, he looked up at the sky and admired the stars. They were beautiful… sometimes it was so easy to miss them.

I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to distract you. I was just remarking on how lovely the sky was tonight. It's not often that I'm outside at this time, so I don't usually get to see the stars clearly.

#c: adrian

Oh, you can't go zhat way.