theindigoflirt:
Mysterious Disappearances (Inigo & Mozu)
Sand slides underneath his boots. Walking with all this extra weight in his arms is not going to be easy. “Glasses, eh?” Inigo suppresses a laugh at the image of some stern king wearing reading glasses. “He certainly sounds extremely dedicated to his work.”
One of the books on top of his stack teeters dangerously to the side. He leans back quickly, holding down the leather bound volume with his chin. Fantastic. As if making his way across the camp wasn’t hard enough already.
Mozu’s constant stream of chatter is a welcome distraction. So that explains the peculiar accent. It couldn’t hurt to learn about both countries, especially from someone as straightforward as her. Being prepared is never a bad thing.
He risked a glance over his shoulder. “They don’t use mistletoe?” See, those are the kinds of things fancy royals would forget to mention. Inigo shakes his head, regretting the action when he feels the book slipping underneath him. “Then how am I supposed to properly celebrate the season?”
His tent, thank Naga, isn’t far. He manages to maneuver his way inside, dumping his stack of books unceremoniously on the ground. They landed with a resounding thump. Inigo has the decency to wince as he holds the tent flap open for Mozu.
“I think I’d only slow us down if I tried to decipher Nohrian. I can take notes if we find anything interesting?” Inigo suggests. Searching endless pages of information has never been his strong suit, but he’s had plenty of practice with his friends. Recording information always came in handy in case they needed a point of reference. “Make yourself at home, my lady.”
As subtly as he can, he sinks to the floor and crosses his long legs, leaving the bed open for her. “Seriously, tell me more about this not mistletoe.”
“Oh, you bet. I swear, that man is gonna work himself inta an early grave. Xannie’s a great man, an’ a great king, but he gets too anxious ‘bout not doin’ stuff an’ how that might affect Nohr- It’s a damn miracle his siblings got him tah come to the academy to take a break that still has some work so he doesn’t go stir crazy ‘r nothin’.” She hums, keeping up her walk as she starts her mini-culture lecture.
“Oh, they got a similar tradition, an’ I ain’t sure ‘bout Hoshidans, but Nohrians- so commoners usu’ly hang sprigs of angelica or mint or some kinda similar herb over their doors tah welcome in growth in the comin’ year and tah encourage relationships of various kinds tah thrive, a most folks hug ‘re kiss beneath it- it’s sweet!” She lets out a low whistle, starting to settle in. “But the nobles- they hang belladonna over their door frames. Yah know, the poisonous berry plant that’ll kill a kid who eats one ‘re two ‘a the berries? But yeah, they hang it up tah threaten possible enemies as a pissin’ contest pretty much. An invitation ‘a ‘poison me in ma own home, coward, try it,’ an’ they also say it encourages continued life since they’re bringin’ a death plant intah their homes to soak up the death, I s’pose. Plus, folks ‘re supposed tah kiss under the belladonna as a sign ‘a goodwill, an’ also to show that they didn’t have ill intent ‘re wanna kill yah flat up.”
She whistles- a low sound. “Shoot, that was a lot more convoluted than I remembered it bein’. Sorry ‘bout that.” Instead, she stretches a bit before sitting on the floor right over by him, cause she missed sitting on the ground proper and reading like she was in Nyx’s library again, learning to read. She hums, popping open one of the books. “An’ yeah, how ‘bout I jus’ read off weird shit and you write it on down fer us tah look over later an’ see if we can still make heads ‘r tails of it.”
