"durin." before the festivities, albedo finds him. he does not plan on allowing the other knights to whisk away his brother in their ale-driven merriment—he has been through the same song and dance himself; they mean well, and it is only that albedo knows how varka's presence will amplify them that makes him wary—but either way it would not hurt for him to do this beforehand.
"happy birthday. this is from me," he says. the ribboned box, whether durin might open it now or later, contains a leather notebook and a bundle of writing instruments just as luxurious. with weighted pages woven together by both magic and alchemy, its sturdy backing sets a standard higher than anything that a press might produce.
"i had a little help from aunt alice. this will hold up against any... extreme wear and tear." a dunk in cider lake, a high fall from the skies, stray flames that lick, sharp swipes from yowling cats. he has not tested the theory, but he imagines it would hold up even if clamped between a rifthound's corrosive jaws. "but make no mistake: use it for whatever you wish. a notebook's purpose is to be filled cover to cover, yet many creatives would allow the novelty of a high-end one to paralyze them with perfectionism. they aren't willing to throw some sheets to the wind. in their minds, every page must be a calculated masterpiece, or they won't put their pen to it at all."
it is a shame. imperfection, after all, is key to humanity. and that is simply an extra lesson for durin in this moment, inconsequential for the rest of the day awaiting them. albedo offers out a hand. "now... are you ready? do remember what i told you about inebriation. they're all quite harmless, but if they keep trying to force a mug into your hands, call for me or mr. hat guy."
because either one would simply take care of it.
Birthdays, it seemed, were a complicated affair. It is to the little-dragon's benefit that his family was not only protective but well-informed, as the hustle of preparation one's first birthday celebration left him dizzy.
That was not to say, of course, that the dragon-child was not excited for his birthday. The excitement of those around him was contagious, after all- and the idea of celebrating his creation a welcome one.
"Albedo!" His brother's presence is, as always, a reassuring one, and Durin closes any lingering distance quickly and unconsciously, seeking comfort in the familiar. And, when a gift is presented, his excitement becomes all the more obvious.
"Wow… from you and Aunt Alice?" His tail lifts, swaying slightly as he very, very carefully takes the packaging. He knows, now, that this is not the first time he's received a gift to celebrate his birth, but those he learned about after the fact, lending distinction still, to this very box. "Thank you! I'll make sure to treasure it."
But… what to do? It was no secret that he was eager to see what was inside, the alchemist already hinting at the treasures within. But human customs were complicated, and it is said that it would be polite to leave the gift opening for later.
Durin thinks that if he were granting a gift to someone, he would like to be nearby when it was opened, so he could see their reaction. But he hesitates for too long, caught between the thought of following with learned social norms and his own thoughts, and it's time to leave.
So, he holds onto that idea for later, for asking his brother to stay a little after everyone else had had their fill of fun, so that he can be there when he opens the wrapped gift for the first time.
It seemed alcohol was still a challenge that the little-dragon could not yet overcome. The smell itself would prove to be its own trial, much less getting ahold of a mug.
But with Albedo's reassurances, Durin found some lingering anxieties melting away.
"Mhm! Don't worry, I remember."
Birthdays were complicated affairs, but one the little-dragon would look forward to again.
