Bard to the Bone @orlandodell - Tumblr Blog

Ironic Aesop

orlandodell:

Orland smiled sadly at the list. Tips on how to reduce traumatic nightmares… Of course he was not the only one in the company that suffered from them. No wonder Nadal and Vyth had been trying especially hard to help him sleep. The gesture was… heartwarming, even as it was sad.

“Ah… Thank you, dear Gael. I’m sure I will be able to make great use of these suggestions. In fact, my wife would be immeasurably happy to donate plenty of moon lilies to the cause. If Vyth likes, he can take charge of them. We can tell him how to care for them.”

Orland found himself leaning against Nadal, sighing to himself.

“…Talking has helped, I think. I’ve never said any of this aloud before, you know. …It seems a shame not to discuss the happy ending, however. Perhaps it will prove inspiring?”

If talking really was helping someone, right in that moment, perhaps Nadal would make note of that for later. Perhaps he’d still ignore it when it came to himself anyway.

As Orland leaned over, Nadal found himself staring at those soft, golden locks… Perhaps, for the time being, he could refrain from petting them. Still they sat there. Tempting his hand.

“Am I not witness to your happy endings?” His heart felt a sudden ache radiate through it again. “But I digress. If telling the story will help, please continue.”

orlandodell

Happy endings. In the plural. Orland glanced down at the twins as the smallest of smiles crossed his face. Yes... He supposed one could look at it that way. And yet, there was still no ending in sight. Simply an end to the Underdark arc of his story. He took a deep breath.

“...Escape was... a trial. I was still so small— I think that helped. Difficult to spot, you see. Able to crawl into small spaces my pursuers could not follow me through. And yet... it took days. Weeks, perhaps. Backtracking and getting lost and tying so hard to remember the winding trails to the surface. I was hungry, tired, confused, terrified, alone... But eventually...”

“It was still dark when I emerged, just as always. As soon as my feet felt grass beneath them, I ran. Ran as far as I could until I collapsed from pure exhaustion. No idea where I was. In a field somewhere, I supposed. I was too tired to be curious. But when I awoke...”

Here, Orland paused, closing his eyes and reminiscing. He reached up to run his fingers through his curls a few times, refreshing his memory. Bringing the past to the surface.

“...Ah, Gael... I had never seen the sun before. I could not believe it. So warm, so bright, so... all-enveloping. And all around me— wildflowers as far as the eye could see! And just next to me... a bush of early spring roses. I had never seen anything so lovely in my life. And I just felt... Somehow I knew... I’d missed so much. All my life, I might’ve known such beauties, if only my father had cared to show me. If only my mother had lived, perhaps. I remember simply sobbing... Just crying my heart out. I just could not believe it...”

“And then somebody found me. A girl. A halfling like myself. Younger... and well-taken care of. I could tell. I remember seeing the little flowers lovingly woven into her hair...” Orland fussed again with Piper’s ribbon. “For some reason, that detail has always stuck with me. I knew she had a family who cared for her. And I felt just... so jealous...”

“But she was so kind... So curious... She knelt down next to me. Ran her fingers through my hair so nicely...” Orland squeezed his eyes shut again, exhaling slowly. “I had never known an affectionate touch before then. Physical contact had always been... painful. Uncomfortable. But this—“

“I do think I fell in love that day. Many times over. With the sun. With flowers. With beauty. With the affection I was so starved for. With Cornflower— although I did not realize this for many years! The first one to offer me kindness. Acceptance. Affection. Is it any wonder I love her so?”

He sighed again, hugging the babies close. “And so. Our children shall always know these things. Love and beauty and warmth and affection and acceptance. How could I offer anything less?”

vassarazorclaw

orlandodell:

Pepper gasped, shocked by the sudden voice. Pure reflex caused her to whip around. Her bow, already loaded, was aimed towards the unexpected visitor and she released the arrow at once.

She noticed too late that it was simply Vassa, the visiting kobold. Luckily, in her panic, the arrow missed its mark by a wide margin. She felt a simultaneous sense of relief and annoyance.

“W-Wh– I– What are you–? I– I’m just–!!”

She hid her bow behind her back. Maybe… Maybe he didn’t notice the arrow flying his way?

Vassa had noticed the arrow, but had also noted it was off mark. Had he been hostile, that would have been a bad thing. …Maybe it was still a bad thing. Surely, if he died in an accident he’d be absolved of the responsibility of it. Maybe. There was no use dwelling on it.

“No need to panic. Not like I’m not out here for the same thing.” Vassa trotted over, his own shortbow in hand. “What sort of shot you working on? Or is it just accuracy?”

He nocked an arrow as he spoke, aiming for a less worn out tree and hitting it easily. “Working on speed myself.” To demonstrate, Vassa let his arrow fly and quickly tried to nock another before the first hit its mark. He dropped it.

“Been a rough time.”

orlandodell

Pepper still found herself incredibly flustered. She’d been discovered! What would her mother say?!

She watched the kobold, completely and totally bemused. Her eyes followed the dropped arrow on its journey to the ground. Normally, she might’ve laughed. But she didn’t feel much like it at the moment.

“...Please don’t tell me Mam,” she whispered. “I... It’s her bow... She doesn’t know I’ve been practicing with it... P-Please don’t tell...!”

sunnysojourn

A Spicy Situation

@orlandodell

“So, hey, Pepper?” Vyth started from across the fire, crossbow in hand. “Do you think we could have… kind of a private target practice? So we can just talk, without a hundred other people listening in?”

Fifteen was almost a hundred, he thought, as he held out his hand low enough to reach.

orlandodell

Pepper blinked up at Vyth, feeling her heart skip a beat. It had been so nice talking to him these last couple days... and he was so much nicer than she ever dared to hope. The nicest boy, in fact, that she had ever met. Nicer than any of the dumb boys back home, that was for sure. She knew that she would never have to beat Vyth up for saying something nasty about Percy’s scars. Or Penny’s ditziness. Or Potter’s eccentricities. Or her Da’.

She reached out for the offered hand and took it eagerly. What a gentleman! By instinct, she looked over towards her mother, who she saw give her a slight nod of her head. Surprising... She’d expected her to tell her no.

“I’d love to... Privacy’s always been so hard to come by. This’ll be a relief...!”

sunnysojourn

Ironic Aesop

orlandodell

sunnysojourn:

There were, unfortunately, many giant spiders down there. The worst part about them was that they couldn’t be killed lest the spider-squasher face execution… Nadal involuntarily shuddered as he thought about the damned things. If he saw one again– he’d kill it. Damn the consequences.

“I see.” For this, he finally rose from the floor, retrieved his parchment and ink and began to write. “Let’s see what we can do for that, hm?”

When all was said and done, he held out the parchment before Orland’s face, so the he may read without dropping a single baby.

1. Create a routine, regular and relaxing, before you need to retire to bed. Lowered stress during waking hours will reduce the frequency and/or intensity.

Whatever you find relaxing is applicable. Platonic massages are available upon request, if necessary.

2. I hear talking helps, although have yet to attempt such things myself or with Vyth.

3. Thinking on the dream and rewriting it with one’s own hands has worked for me, but Vyth has trouble with the concept. It’s worth a try anyway.

4. Vyth’s stress levels improved with a nightlight mushroom in his chamber… perhaps carry a moon lily with us?

Orland smiled sadly at the list. Tips on how to reduce traumatic nightmares... Of course he was not the only one in the company that suffered from them. No wonder Nadal and Vyth had been trying especially hard to help him sleep. The gesture was... heartwarming, even as it was sad.

“Ah... Thank you, dear Gael. I’m sure I will be able to make great use of these suggestions. In fact, my wife would be immeasurably happy to donate plenty of moon lilies to the cause. If Vyth likes, he can take charge of them. We can tell him how to care for them.”

Orland found himself leaning against Nadal, sighing to himself.

“...Talking has helped, I think. I’ve never said any of this aloud before, you know. ...It seems a shame not to discuss the happy ending, however. Perhaps it will prove inspiring?”

sunnysojourn:

The corners of Vyth’s lips turned downward. A machine couldn’t be a friend. Not unless it was a warforged construct, and even then, he didn’t think warforged actually made friends. It was kind of all about jobs and tasks for them.

“Um… I need a real friend, who has feelings and is a person… and I don’t have anywhere to clean… So… Do you have any machine that will just light stuff on fire? Faster than flint and steel?“

Preston’s smile never wavered. He COULD debate whether or not their little mechanical pals had feelings or not, but that would get him nowhere with this particular sale. Obviously, the way to go was to simply play into the customer’s desires. In one way or another.

“It’th your lucky day! Ath a matter of fact, my brother Potter maketh a point of making thure ALL of hith creathionth are capable of immediate and eye-catching flammability! Potter! If you would be tho kind ath to demonthrate?” Preston watched as Potter pulled out a small metal control box. His older brother released a small sigh from behind his poncho as he located the big red button. “...You may want to take a few thepth back, thir.”

Once the area was decently clear, the scuttling little creation made to run around in frantic little circles, as if it knew what was about to happen. Potter pressed the button and all at once, the little device burst into flames. Bright, hot, sparking flames. A high-pitched whistling began to emit from the midst of it all and eventually...

BOOM

“...Ta-da!” Preston posed proudly, waving his hands in the direction of the smoking crater before them, steadfastly ignoring the shrapnel and glowing embers that had settled themselves in his wild curls.

vassarazorclaw:

Vassa plucked another morsel up. It was probably time to check the quail. He got up, peeking in the oven and deciding it really was time to let the bird cool. He doused the oven and set the quail on the stove.

“I don’t know if I exhibit all that.” Vassa plunked himself back on his chair, watching Cornflower shuffle the offal about on the plate. “It’s more, I feel like a great wrong has been done and someone has to fix it, and it might as well be me?”

He shrugged, half draping on the table. “Orland’s capable of being all that without written rules, though. Otherwise he wouldn’t have given any thought to writing them down. Those things are already on his mind. And he’s already made something of himself. I mean, there’s someone out there right now, running around and doing good because of Orland. Not everyone can claim that.”

The smell of the quail was incredible... In fact, it reminded Cornflower distinctly of the kinds of meals she used to enjoy back in Celosia, living with her rich father. The cooks would serve such things almost daily. She closed her eyes, allowing herself a few moments of nostalgia... and then came immediately back to the present.

“...I imagine he’s inspired at least a few people in some fashion. Hard not to, when he’s proclaiming his bombastic ballads and titles and such everywhere he visits. Ah, but I do wish he could see the things about himself worth praising.” She sighed yet again, her eyes fixed on Vassa once more.

“...He told me about the dragon. About the kobolds he’s met. About what he imagines your clan to be like. He... really wishes to help. And I find that I... cannot ask him not to. I can only imagine how important such a quest is to you.”

vassarazorclaw:

“I suppose you do.” He frowned, crossing his arms. “I don’t see why you couldn’t propose with shoes though. Or a plate! With a painting on it! Or if it’s a metal plate it can be etchings.” Vassa perked clicking his claws together.

“You should propose with a brooch!” It would be the best gift! Wearable, good for a pile, just great!

“Cornflower already has a very special brooch,” Orland sighed. “I told you this once. A keepsake from her mother. I stole it back from the Rose for her? To profess my love? It would be hard to beat that one. And I already GAVE her a ring long ago...”

Orland paced back and forth. “I suppose I could always buy a BETTER ring now... or perhaps... gift her one of my own precious belongings...”

vassarazorclaw:

Only needed two hours of sleep freed up a lot of time. Vassa spent some of it cleaning, some of it watching the others sleep, but most of it he spent trying to expand his archery abilities. Granted, he preferred leaving the house through the backdoor, taking his chances with Orland’s cantankerous goat rather than Paul.

The first night hadn’t been particularly eventful, background noise aside. Tonight though, it seemed like the woods had more than one archer present. A familiar looking one too. Vassa pattered silently over, peering at her.

“Stance is a little off there, kiddo.”

Pepper gasped, shocked by the sudden voice. Pure reflex caused her to whip around. Her bow, already loaded, was aimed towards the unexpected visitor and she released the arrow at once.

She noticed too late that it was simply Vassa, the visiting kobold. Luckily, in her panic, the arrow missed its mark by a wide margin. She felt a simultaneous sense of relief and annoyance.

“W-Wh-- I-- What are you--? I-- I’m just--!!”

She hid her bow behind her back. Maybe... Maybe he didn’t notice the arrow flying his way?

Pepper sighed as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She’d managed to bundle up her massive amount of golden curls into a tight, yet messy, bun. Hopefully, it would keep it out of her eyes. The shortbow in her hand had been retrieved before dinner, while her mother was distracted. Hidden carefully under an armchair in the parlor. She’d stepped carefully around a sleeping Vyth— so handsome!— and grabbed it, skipping quietly out the front door. Sir Paul grunted approvingly in her direction. He would not alarm anybody.

Now, out in the woods on the outskirts of Viridian, she took careful aim at her favorite target: a tree now completely riddled with holes and broken arrowheads stuck deep within the bark. She had a good several hours.

vassarazorclaw

orlandodell:

To distract herself from her returning sense of embarrassment, Cornflower focused on the plate of food between them. She followed Vassa’s example and tried a piece (although she made use of a fork— something it seemed Vassa had trouble with). It was… surprisingly good. So… kobolds could cook.

Vassa’s question caught her off-guard, however.

“Of course not. Can you imagine any children of his following a written list of rules? No, they’re all more-or-less free agents. Thankfully, free agents that are easily convinced not to do anything too horrible, however. I admit, as more have come, it’s been much harder to keep an eye on them all.”

She took another bite, eyeing Vassa. “Why do you ask?”

“Orland tried to give us a credo. Apparently he tried to do the same with his old party, I just figured maybe he instituted one here.“ Vassa popped another morsel into his mouth, savoring the taste.

“Though I agree that having one here probably wouldn’t work out so well. Kids shouldn’t be bound by tenets so young anyway. Not when they’re still figuring things out for themselves. But Orland apparently got it in his head that we were like…a company? I don’t know if we’ve ever done anything official enough for all that.”

orlandodell

Cornflower rolled her eyes. That sounded like Orland. Always running away with some fanciful idea inspired by some bardic facet of his. His idealism rarely coincided with practicality.

“He really admires you, you know.” She rested her chin against a closed fist, eyeing Vassa carefully. “I can tell. Something about him has changed since he’s been gone. And I know a lot of it had to do with that temple you must’ve all gone through. But I think plenty of it also comes from your influence. He is... determined.” She played a bit with some of the food on the plate, the fork pushing bits around. But she didn’t eat any more.

“He has all these ideals... Optimistic, shining, passionate ideals. Heroism. Bravery. Loyalty. Sacrifice. He recognized those things in you and is, I think, a little desperate to inspire such things in himself. I know it is doubtlessly annoying...” Here, she shrugged. “...but he is such a lonely soul. Always has been. Clinging to a sense of comraderie, of a family away from home... it’s what he does. Add that to his desire to make something of himself... and it’s no wonder that he will follow you to the ends of the earth. Like a baby duck. As for the credo... I believe he is just trying to set rules for himself. If everyone is involved, it makes him feel less worthless.”

#psychoanalyze the husbando))

vassarazorclaw

orlandodell:

“As surprisingly poetic a sentiment as that is, Vassa, one does not propose with a pair of shoes.” Maybe Vassa had some sense of romance in him after all. Color him surprised. “…She wouldn’t wear them anyway.”

Orland sighed. Vassa was right about one thing, however. Technically speaking, he and Cornflower WEREN’T married… It had never mattered to either of them before. In their own eyes, they were as married as married could be. But… it sort of bothered him NOW.

“How odd… I never cared for such official matters before. But perhaps she deserves better than an off-the-cuff private ceremony on a getaway ship. Papers. Witnesses. All that nonsense. …Am I losing my roguish edge, Vassa?”

Vassa looked Orland up and down. “I don’t know if you’re losing your edge? But having an official ceremony would be a way to show off? And you actually have friends who can attend now, where you didn’t really before. Of course, maybe you’re life’s hectic and unsure and you want something that’s a sure thing, and I’m sure nothing’s more concrete than marrying someone you love.”

orlandodell

Orland was silent for several long moments, tapping a finger against his chin, lost in thought. Vassa’s words resonated with him. Yes... Yes!

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, Vassa... but you have a point! If I am sure of anything in this world, it is my love for Cornflower. So why not prove it to the world?”

Shove it in their faces! Make it impossible to deny that he and Cornflower loved each other and would continue loving each other until the end of time and maybe even after...!

“...Ha. Suppose I’ll have to propose again.”

sunnysojourn

orlandodell:

She looked the elf over, expression inscrutable. She was embarrassed to hear such a thing… but it seemed silly to get flustered over it after such a sad admission. She felt an urge to comfort, to say that there would be others—

But she knew it would do nothing to help. Might not even be true. Cornflower was a terrible liar anyway.

“I am sorry,” she said, moving to stand a little closer to Nadal. She overcame the urge to reach out a comforting hand. She wasn’t sure how it would be received. Instead, she took a deep breath.

“Love is… difficult. Sometimes it feels so easy. As natural as breathing. But I’ve never been the romantic sort. So, even still, after all these years… sometimes coming to terms with such feelings…” She paused, rubbing her arm again. “I feel guilty for not being more open. I do… love Orland. Very dearly. I would be so lost if he were gone. But… it is not my way to express these things so… freely.”

She found herself staring at her feet again. “…I hope I do not come across as cold. The life we’ve built is most precious to me. I hope it comes across.”

Sometimes, it seemed sadness was just something that happened. The idea that it would affect a new acquaintance any was novel. So, her approach was met with mild confusion– his head tilted slightly and his eyebrows furrowed a bit… but his expression evened out quickly.

“You’ve been quite warm, in my opinion,” Nadal assured her. “You haven’t threatened to kill him once since we got here.” A brief smile revealed that statement to be a little joke on his part.

“No, you’re doing well. I can imagine how difficult it must be to care for this many people– Orland included– and I find it telling on its face that you’d do so much on a daily basis.” Would that the pang of loneliness that rose back up whenever he put some thought to the topic disappear… but that wasn’t their problem. It was his.

orlandodell

Warm... What a nice thing to be called. Orland often said that. Like the first sunrise of a new start. How silly. But nice.

“...It’s all we have,” she admitted. “So we would do well to take care of it. Cultivate it. Watch it thrive. And it is... ever expanding.” Here, Cornflower rolled her eyes, cheeks flushing slightly.

“...But all additions are welcome. Orland— who never really knew one— thrives in a family. Despite his adventuring, I know this to be where he finds the most pleasure. And for me... motherhood has proven... fulfilling. And so who are we to deny them?”

sunnysojourn

Ironic Aesop

sunnysojourn

orlandodell:

Orland blinked in surprise at Nadal’s reaction… but then his own grin widened. Yes, Sorn… That had been the elf’s name. Sorn Hun’ar…

“Your brother,” Orland said, the dawning realization making him chuckle. “I suppose what they say is true… It really is such a small world sometimes.” His smile faded a little as he continued to reminisce, however. “Alas, the best day of your life was one of the worst of mine. I really thought I was going to die that day. Thought perhaps he would grab me while shrouded in flames, pull me in and let me burn. Still… I was actually upset that he never asked for me again. Despite the constant death threats, he was the closest thing to a friend I had down there. Such hours of amusement… Such light shows.”

He shrugged. “Guess I was a little mouthy. Kept offering advice. Critiques of his techniques. I never was one to keep quiet, I suppose. Amazed he never did just cough up the hundred.”

Orland pulled the twins against his chest as he noticed them starting to nod off again. “Amazed I ever got out of that place alive. I certainly never expected to… Not even under the terrible circumstances in which I did…”

Nadal shook his head, feeling squished locks of hair against the floor with even that slight movement. “Orland, that is what constitutes friendship in Prouzagt. Someone who won’t kill you even when they threaten to do it repeatedly.” He chuckled. “And Sorn isn’t smart enough to think, if I kill this halfling at the same time I quit my wizard training, they’ll know the halfling was the reason. No, he doesn’t have that sort of foresight in the slightest.”

He sighed and rested his hands over his stomach with the fingers intertwined. “At least Sorn isn’t the worst of us.” That title belonged to none other than the late Elderboy, Morennil.

He supposed the worst was Tazennin now. Stupid suck up asshole.

“Are said circumstances suitable for children?” Death was one thing, but…

orlandodell

Orland thought on that sentiment, frowning to himself. Friendship, eh? He wondered why the guy harbored any sort of affection for him at all. He supposed he’d never know unless he met him again. Wasn’t impossible, he figured. Maybe they’d become real friends? Like he was with Nadal and Vyth.

...Maybe.

“Hmm... I wouldn’t like MY children to know... not the little ones. But these ones—“ he bounced the twins a few times— “...they’re too little to understand, anyway.” He sighed and closed his eyes, remembering.

“I was nine. My father must’ve given too many raw deals to a few of his drow clients. And apparently, they weren’t friends, because their death threats turned out to have weight to them.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “There are... spiders down there, aren’t there? Big ones? That’s... mostly what I remember. A lot of them. And a client twisting his fingers through my hair, twisting my head, making me watch—“

Orland realized he was holding the babies rather tightly. He loosened his grip, bouncing them softly.

“I admit, part of the reason I’ve not wanted to sleep much since the temple is that the... execution is much more vivid in my dreams. The escape is... a little easier to think on.”

orlandodell

Two boys stood side by side, each an Orland in miniature, but in completely different ways.

The older one had the fair hair and lovely amber eyes of his father. An exact replica. His homemade poncho was pulled up over most of his face, but it did not take a great imagination to see a younger Orland hiding just underneath.

The younger was dainty and slight, with darker skin and a mass of wild dark curls that fell over his eyes, completely obscuring them. He posed proudly, however, giving the (correct) impression that he was about to launch into a ridiculous speech, demanding all the attention in the room. He gestured grandly at his silent brother and began his pitch.

“Come one! Come all! Thtand and thtare in awe at the wonderth and grand dethignth of the Predigiouth Potter Florian O’Dell and the Praitheworthy Prethton Bathil O’Dell!” The boy lisped his way through the introduction and bowed deeply, as his older brother dramatically ripped the sheet off the odd contraption he had been covering.

An odd homemade device made of all manner of gears and wires and metal bits was emitting curious puffs of smoke as it whistled and whirred.

sunnysojourn

One of the tallfolk simply walked away from the design, deeming it too unknown to worry about at the moment. But the second, younger, shorter elf gazed in awe at its majesty.

“What’s it do?” Vyth asked, his voice quieted by the contraption. His hands stopped fidgeting for a moment to stop in front of his heart, one atop the other’s closed fist.

orlandodell

Preston winked at the curious elf, although it was impossible to see behind his thick bangs.

“What’th it do? What doeth’nt it do ith a better quethtion! Thith ith an all-purpoth mathine! Now, tell me, friend! Have you ever woken up and felt lonely? Well, no longer! Thith little guy ith a friend ath well ath an almighty cleaning powerhouthe!”

At this, Potter leaned down and pressed a button on top of the little device, and it instantly sprouted six spindly little legs which, after a few moments of getting themselves untangled and bracing themselves, managed to lift the weight of its body and scuttle around like an excited rat.

vassarazorclaw

orlandodell:

Orland opened his mouth to exasperatedly argue with Vassa over the meaning of the phrase “gold-digger”, but almost instantly decided it would be pointless. Gotta choose your battles. This time, he chose to defend the sanctity of marriage. Again.

“Neither of those things is a requirement, Vassa… They just… tend to coincide with the role oftentimes. LOOK. I will explain this again. Very carefully this time.” He took a deep breath.

“A husband is a loving companion! Spouses complement one another! They make each other strong! They have decided that they love each other deeply and want to build a life together as partners and lovers! Oftentimes, this means making a family! But I would’ve married Cornflower even if such a thing wasn’t possible. And stuck by her side through thick and thin! For better or for worse! For rich or for poor! Because I am her husband and I love her more than anything else in the universe. More than music, more than poetry, more than beauty and sunshine and sweet summer roses! And I shall continue loving her until the day I die and every day after! And THAT… is a husband!”

He had pulled his rapier out sometime during this impassioned little speech and had begun waving it around dramatically. It pointed straight in the air now, aimed towards the sun.

So…they were married then. Maybe the lovers part wasn’t in there, but love was. And they were here, taking a break on a journey that required dedication and trust. Orland was risking his life for Vassa! So…clearly they were married. But that also meant Vassa was probably married to the rest of the party too. Hmmm, but was he married to Livvy or not? Because he said he wasn’t going to.

Maybe the ceremony truly was important. Orland really needed a ceremony to his favorite wife then. You couldn’t argue with fey magic. That said…

“I think I understand. But that means you and Cornflower aren’t married, at least not until you have that special ceremony. You should buy her some shoes and propose with them. Say something about wanting to walk to the ends of time with her or something.” Also his kids needed shoes, but that was a different story.

orlandodell

“As surprisingly poetic a sentiment as that is, Vassa, one does not propose with a pair of shoes.” Maybe Vassa had some sense of romance in him after all. Color him surprised. “...She wouldn’t wear them anyway.”

Orland sighed. Vassa was right about one thing, however. Technically speaking, he and Cornflower WEREN’T married... It had never mattered to either of them before. In their own eyes, they were as married as married could be. But... it sort of bothered him NOW.

“How odd... I never cared for such official matters before. But perhaps she deserves better than an off-the-cuff private ceremony on a getaway ship. Papers. Witnesses. All that nonsense. ...Am I losing my roguish edge, Vassa?”

vassarazorclaw

orlandodell:

Cornflower sat next to Vassa, staring hard at him. Talented, knowledgeable little thing, he was. She truly admired it. And the way he wagged his tail while excited or amused… adorable. She decided to go ahead and like him, despite all the previous humiliation. She had wondered how he had garnered Orland’s respect, so. It was a difficult thing to earn.

Thinking on her husband again, though, she glanced out the window to see him covered in about five different children now. They really had missed him.

“Oh, aye. He’s always going on about how important it is to pass on the stories of others along with putting your own out into the world. He says there’s a duty that comes with storytelling. A responsibility. Making sure that people and their experiences and thoughts and feelings and advice are remembered. Never forgotten…”

She sighed to herself, then caught herself gazing dreamily and affectionately out at Orland (who had emerged from the pile and was trying to fight the little horde off with a stick he had grabbed ahold of). She shook her head, looking back at Vassa, making her expression as neutral as she could once more.

“He’s… passionate. You know.”

Vassa nodded as Cornflower spoke. That sounded familiar too. Stories and the universe. He plucked a kidney off the plate and popped it in his mouth. Perfect. He glanced out the window, watching Orland a moment. Yeah, he could see why Cornflower might be all gooey over him…sort of. Passion was part of it, sure, but another part was probably looks and persistence.

“I can attest to that. Very gung-ho about things.” Vassa glanced about the room, eyeing the decor. “You don’t have like, a list of house rules up or anything do you?”

Orland didn’t seem like the type to have a fancy list of moral edicts on his wall though. So maybe not.

orlandodell

Vassa’s question caught her off-guard, however.

She took another bite, eyeing Vassa. “Why do you ask?”

sunnysojourn

orlandodell:

“Oh.”

Cornflower felt herself blush again. Orland really was an idiot. Obviously the best way to ensure he’d be able to help would be to make sure he was well-rested and in top form, right? Instead of fretting himself to death over her… Percy, she could understand. But her?

She then remembered what Gael had mentioned the previous afternoon, that they had apparently all borne witness to the sad sight of Orland staring longingly into a mirror while disguising himself magically as her. How… How stupid. How pathetic. How… lovesick.

“…His love has always driven him a little… odd,” she said, staring down at her feet. “He’s so dramatic. Pining away, so… I do apologize if it was… taxing.”

She rubbed her arm defensively, embarrassed, but for different reasons than before.

Nadal sighed, though not derisively nor with any hint of fatigue. More of a wistful thing, that sigh. Perhaps love drove Orland to the strange, but… nobody here could say they couldn’t be driven the same way. Not even Vyth, were he to find a deep sort of love.

“No, if anything… I understand it. How he feels for you is how I felt for the man I loved once…” He stopped, took in a breath as he gazed out the window and into the great blue sky. “Still love. Still feel. It’s only that he’s no longer with me.” The vast freedom on the other side of a glass– one he could venture into at any time he chose– soothed the nerves that flared at his remembrance.

“As much as I miss that man, I am happy for Orland. He deserves to have someone like you in his life.”

orlandodell

She looked the elf over, expression inscrutable. She was embarrassed to hear such a thing... but it seemed silly to get flustered over it after such a sad admission. She felt an urge to comfort, to say that there would be others—

But she knew it would do nothing to help. Might not even be true. Cornflower was a terrible liar anyway.

“Love is... difficult. Sometimes it feels so easy. As natural as breathing. But I’ve never been the romantic sort. So, even still, after all these years... sometimes coming to terms with such feelings...” She paused, rubbing her arm again. “I feel guilty for not being more open. I do... love Orland. Very dearly. I would be so lost if he were gone. But... it is not my way to express these things so... freely.”

She found herself staring at her feet again. “...I hope I do not come across as cold. The life we’ve built is most precious to me. I hope it comes across.”

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