Daily Writing Challenge 2021
Day 30: Ceremony/Catastrophic
Leon really hadn't ever believed in this sort of thing. Having faith was a bit tricky after he'd lost at least as much as the average Gilnean, and spent so long actively avoiding facing himself or anybody else. He'd also thought of things like horoscopes and tarot readings as ...something on the order of a fun game, more than something genuinely mystical or meaningful. Entertaining, and sometimes startlingly on the nose, but little more than that. Of course, he wasn't about to make fun of anybody who believed in it, because that wasn't him; nobody ever gave him shit for not believing, so why would he do it the other way around?
"The card that represents what you shouldn't do is the Queen of Cups in reverse. Upright she is confident and self-assured, so reversed is the opposite of that. What this card is telling you is not to give in to insecurity."
"Tha's...encouragin'? I think." He smiled sheepishly and rubbed at the back of his neck. It was a simple start, a vague sort of sentiment that he could accept for just about anything he'd wanted to ask and it wouldn't have been too nonsensical. Still, it was something he both needed and wanted to hear, so he wasn't about to complain.
"Your second card, the one that signifies a challenge to you, is the Six of Wands in reverse. What this card represents, when in reverse, is failure. It doesn't mean you will now, but somewhere down the line, you have suffered a setback and failed at this before, and now it's making you fear that is what is going to happen again. This card is urging you to overcome that fear."
By now, he'd had a few readings with a few different people, some he'd known well and some he'd barely known at all. Most of them had been...alarmingly appropriate, but... not like this one. Leon hadn't actually given Evie any indication of what his question was. He hadn't said it aloud, hadn't even vaguely explained it. It wasn't intentional; he wasn't trying to trick her or anything--he'd frankly just forgotten. He was nervous. Particularly because the second card was absolutely right: he was thinking about something big, something that'd blown up in his face before, and that he wanted to try again but was petrified would end in catastrophic failure.
He caught himself leaning closer to see the cards as she drew them. It was easy to get caught up in the ceremony of it all when it was this on the nose. When she first set down the last card, he was filled with dread, historically terrible at figuring out which cards were which, and defaulting to 'not good' most of the time.
"Your last card is The World. This card's keywords are completion, achievement, fulfillment, sense of belonging, wholeness, and harmony. So essentially, if what you are debating on makes you happy and leaves you with a sense of belonging, you should absolutely do it."
The explanation saw him sag in his chair, and after a moment, he brought a hand up to slide across his mouth. The absolute idiot grin that popped up in answer to that encouragement was almost painful, and he was trying to wipe it off since he just couldn't stop doing it.
Despite that, a nearly inaudible "Oh, yay" snuck its way out of him.
Evie grinned. "To be honest, these are the readings I just kinda live for."
"If it turns out t' be right? Yer gettin' me all t' yerself fer a night." Leon paused, then laughed softly. "Or. Y'know. Whatever else y' damn well want, cuz I'll damn well owe y'."
She just laughed and winked at him.
"Either way," he said with that smile still stubbornly on his face, "Thank you. I needed this t'day." With that, he set 20 gold between them, and when he left her booth, he managed not to click his heels like a doofus.
He'd have plenty of opportunities for doofus-y heel-clicking once he'd found a ring.
"Now I'm positive I banned those, kitten." The elf stretched out languidly under the sheets with a pleased hum, then set one hand on Leon's fuzzy chest. "Must you?"
Leon smirked and curled one arm around the thirsty thing's waist, but didn't pull him closer. If he did that they'd never get anywhere. ...Well, they'd get somewhere, but it wouldn't be to a conversation. "No, but I'd rather now than, say, in th' middle o' th' next round. Pretty sure you'd agree, hey?"
Celedyn half lifted out of the bed, blue eyes wide and scandalized. “Oh you wouldn’t dare! If you stop in the middle of rutting into me because you want to have an intellectual conversation I will absolutely refuse to forgive you! For the majority of an evening at LEAST!”
"There, see? So I'm bein' perfectly reas'nable askin' now, aren't I?" He chuckled and noisily smooched his cheek. "Yer faith tha' I 'ave tha' kind o' focus in th' moment is flat'rin', though.”
He gave a huff and resigned himself to collapsing into the pillows, voice half muffled by a squished cheek. “Fine! Fine! What’s your serious question then?”
Leon rolled onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "D'you enjoy it? Th' immortality thin'? I mean... yer 'appy tha' way, right?"
“I’m not… technically immortal. It just seems that way some times.”
"Tch. Long-lived enough t' make it semantic, at least."
“You’re longer lived than some things. I’m longer lived than some things. But as far as enjoying it? Mmmnh…. It has ups and it has downs.”
Leon’s mouth twisted up a little bit right at first before he slid one hand across it, almost literally wiping the expression off his face. "Y'don't make a secret o' th' ups. So... th' downs?"
He caught that look and reached over to tweak one of the Gilnean’s nipples, drawing a terribly undignified little squeak out of the man. “Oh, surely you don’t want to spoil the moment with that sort of talk, kitten! It’s a dreary topic!”
Leon swatted at the offending hand. "I'm sure it comes as a shock tha' I am occasionally a morose thin'! M' bloody Gilnean, aren't I?" Celedyn let his hand be swatted away, though it returned a moment later to help itself to the carpet of fur on his chest. Leon let him play, though he kept a wary eye on where those fingers were for a little bit.
“Very well, if you insist, somber it is. There are several things, but I think I made things quite a bit harder on myself leaving Quel’Thalas. It’s obvious to say but but it’s quite a hard thing, outliving everyone you meet and every place you go.”
"...Was kinna 'opin' y'wouldn't say tha', even if I knew y' would. 'Ow does a guy even start t' deal with tha'?"
“Oh, I won’t lie to you, kitten. It was hard at first--I didn’t have any experience with it. I had experienced people dying, but not the sort of… increasing inevitability of it. There was a time I just sort of… tried to lose people after a decade or two to avoid it.”
"Mm." That rang very familiar bells for Leon, and it showed, but he wasn't gonna draw attention to it if Celedyn didn't. "An' now?"
“Now? It’s… it’s something I sort of grew acclimated to over time. I miss people, I mourn people, but I also remember that I only miss them because of the wonderful experience we shared while they were here, hm?”
The Gilnean glanced down at the hand trying its best to tangle itself in his chest hair, then brushed his fingertips across the back of it. "Does it ever make y'... Iunno, 'estitate t'get near anybody t' begin with?'
Celedyn pursed his lips, considering. “To… an extent. I mean, I get close to people, but it’s different isn’t it? I know I’ll eventually be going on without them; and it’s hard for them as well, knowing that even if I’m on every page of their book, they’ll be a chapter in mine?”
That drew a wry huff of a laugh from the man before he snatched up Celedyn's hand to nip at one of those manicured fingers. "I spose it's best t' aim fer bein' one o' th' more int'restin' chapters."
A smile spread over the elf’s features as he withdrew his thumb, barely escaping the nip only to rub the nail over his lower lip. “Oh, you’re turning out to be an absolutely delicious one, darling.” The only reason Leon didn't smile was because he was too focused on the pleasant little buzz that nail sent down his spine.
"Hmh, a lesser man might've made a crack about dog-eared pages, I'd wager..."
“Mnh! And why do people dog-ear pages?” He shifted, leaning over the other man with a lazy grin. “Because it’s a chapter where they love to return.”
Well aware they were starting to drift away from the topic, but not willing to care all that much for that much longer, Leon purred and tilted his head back. "Flat'ry, now?"
“One of many things contributing to my reputation for a silver tongue!”
"I feel like we've treaded these waters b'fore. If yours is silver, diva, what's mine?"
“Squandered at present!”
"Let me guess," he sat up a bit further to try and steal a sharp bite under Celedyn's jaw, "Better between yer thighs than chat'rin' an' broodin'?" Celedyn gasped in delight as he was bitten, tipping his head to offer up a new target. “I suspect you’re right, but there’s only one way we can be absolutely certain.”
At last, Leon dragged him in good and close, the better to cover his bared throat in bright red hickeys and bite marks to their hearts' content. "Y'know, at this rate, we're never gonna get t' try th' wax I bought."
Bright blue eyes popped wide as the elf let himself be hauled in. “You should have mentioned that at the start!!”
"You didn't let me" bubbled up from somewhere under his chin, hard to understand both because Leon was laughing and because he refused to stop biting him.
“I absolutely refuse to take responsibility for the consequences of my actions! You know that!”
"Now, see, tha' does not sound like beggin' t' be lit up like th' Wickerman at 'arvest."
Celedyn beamed, smoothing his palms over the other man’s chest as he lofted his chin just a little bit higher. “Every single year!”
Answering the fondling with a trail of much-too-light kisses up the front of Celedyn's throat and ending at his chin, Leon smirked. "I'm torn. Is it a better repayment fer a mis'rable conversation t' drive you wild makin' you beg for it, or is it better t' just pamper you by givin' it t' you right now?"
The elf huffed lightly, knowing full well that those little kisses were deliberately teasing him. “When I answer, do I have to pretend it doesn’t drive you wild when I beg as well?”
"We both know you're not tha' good of an actor, luv."
“I’ve never let that stop me.”
"One o' yer many admirable qualities."
Celedyn grinned and leaned in to run his tongue along the shell of the Gilnean’s ear. “Ah, you’re catching on.” Another soft laugh escaped from the human, though of course it was a bit breathier this time. Then, Leon got his hands under Celedyn's ass and squeezed hard. "Tell me then, diva; slow, sensual pleasurefuck, or wild ruttin' till dawn?"
Shamelessly pressing himself back into the rough squeeze, settling his ass into the Gilnean’s palms, Celedyn’s voice became a low, pleased purr as he answered, “I want you to fuck me so hard that I can scarcely remember my own name.”
Feigning deep consideration, Leon kneaded lazily at his wriggly handful. Celedyn huffed lightly as Leon took his time pretending, trying to fake a pout, but he just couldn’t keep his mouth from spreading into a pleased smile. When he’d finally settled on an answer, Leon sat up just enough to bump his forehead into the elf's. "Y'know, I think I just might be able t' accommodate tha'."
Celedyn nosed at Leon’s cheek, letting his hands wander up the Gilnean’s torso and into his hair, nails raking his scalp. “You know just the way to spoil me rotten.” And with that he pressed a delighted kiss to the other man’s lips.
"... it was so pretty... Never saw a night sky so bright as tha', not even dead o' winter back 'ome. Not once. An' great trees, bigger'n Teldrassil, maybe. At least as big, but... not th' same, either. But there were other thin's, too, an' my mouth tasted like th' inside of an old wound dressin', y'know what I mean. Nightmare air taste. Like lightnin' smells, awful, greasy. Wrong.” Leon picked up his cider mug, but more to have something to do with his hands than out of any real desire to drink it. “It didn't feel like mem'ries do, but it felt... familiar?"
"There's still much damage to the Dream, after the Nightmare's encroachment. But at the same time...It almost seems like there's something else, a scent on the wind I can't quite pick out,” Vember replied, her own gaze a bit distant.
"I din't know wha' t'make of it. I still don't. It felt like..." His fingers curled and uncurled a few times, grasping for words he couldn't find. "It was like bein' in th' same city but th' wrong street, it was th' same an' completely dif'rent.”
Vember nodded, understanding, hands wrapped around her cup. "That's not terribly unusual for the Dream in general, in my experience; it's...the same, yet different--more somehow, than the world we walk awake in. But...there is something...like a storm coming."
Drumming his fingers on his own cup, Leon stared across the table at her. "I've never gone t' th' Dream on my own b'fore, Vember. I din't think I ever would. Certainly not blitzed outta my mind. An' then when I got there it looked like tha' an' th' squidgey feelin' was gone, th' outta-place feelin'... It was a wrong place but it wasn't th' wrong place fer me t'be." Realizing how that last bit sounded, he ducked his head a little and added, "I think."
"Trust that instinct," she said. "Yours are better than you realize."
"Th' dream, though? Me?"
"You are a druid, Leon, believe it or not. I've seen you."
---
So the Dream, now. We’re going to the Dream? Is that what we’re doing, man?
Leon stared into the bathroom mirror as he wiped the dregs of shaving cream and stubble from his cheeks. He’d had to admit to himself that he’d let it grow more than he usually did; it wasn’t really stubble anymore so much as a full beard, and he hated the way he looked with a full beard. Kaewynn wasn’t a fan of it, either. He’d be dead in the ground before he cut away the bit at his chin, though; that was the good bit, and he liked it, and so did his wives.
Guess that’s what we’re doing then. At least back to the grove. For some peace, if not answers. So tired of questions, questions, questions... Who knows, maybe someone else saw what we did.
Leave-in conditioner for such a small amount of hair felt silly, but Leon prided himself--as much as he could handle being proud of anything of his, anyway--on his hair being soft and plush, and that included the hair on his face. Once he’d dealt with that, he washed his hands, and headed downstairs and outside to the outbuilding where he kept his leatherworking equipment, and his armor.
And what then? If someone saw it? We learn to dream on purpose? Walk it? To what end? We’ve traversed the Nightmare before. This will be no different. Even if the Nightmare was horrible... who knows. There was something in there, though. It wasn’t all Nightmare. Need to know what that was. It wants me there. Why does it want me there? What wants me there?
His fingers trailed slowly across the boiled, purple leather with its barklike details and dozens of little repaired nicks and cuts all about it.
So we go to the grove to dream, I guess. They’re going to be worried. ... They’ll understand, though. If we explain it right. And we are telling them. Not just... running off. That’d be daft. And callous. Can’t do that to them.
Biting his lip, his hand stilled over a much more significant repair, low on the right side of the abdomen, where a spear had bitten deep. It’d taken him weeks to fully recover, even with extensive healing done within hours.
Trust those instincts, yeah? Something’s wrong. Not just here, but there, wherever there is. There’s danger of some sort where we’re trying to go. So what do we do?
Muttering under his breath, Leon drew one of the simple, heavy daggers from the sheath on the belt and tested its edge. It had been sharpened only a few weeks ago, the last time he’d been prompted by his own bad feelings to check, and it remained sharp enough to give his thumb a mild slice for his slip of the mind. Satisfied, he took the entire kit off the dummy, and began to get dressed.
( Below is the read-aloud version of Leon’s poem at the Howling Owl, which I was basically ordered to post once I had a few minutes to pull it from the chat logs. Fun fact: right after he read it, he went outside and threw up. This was baby’s first performance of anything, anywhere, ever, and he was satisfied that he at least held it together until he was actually done.
Enjoy! )
Leon rubs the back of his neck and offers a weak smile to the crowd. "...I... 'ave t' apologize. Mine's not nearly so long, nor enthrallin', I think, as those b'fore. It is, 'owever, somethin' I thought was 'appy when I wrote it, but brought a lotta tears in its wake.
"Which, o' course, makes it incredibly Gilnean."
He smirked.
Leon digs a small notepad from his back pocket and flips to the correct pages. Then he pauses, and turns so his patched eye is toward the crowd. Only the folks by the pillar in front of him could see his eye close.
"...I once made an oath t'th' keepers at th'end, when all seemed lost an' broken.
"I saw nothin' left be'ind, an' nothin' more a'ead; deeds undone, words unspoken."
Leon 's voice is a trembling thing. "Too late, too late, too late, too late... no alternatives, an' no solution."
"An' so if I must stan' at th' twisted gate, I would seek retribution."
Leon takes another long breath. The next verse came more steadily, but recalling an old sadness. "I would not claim a cause, because no cause 'ad claimed me. I fought because I must, an' fer th' pain tha' set me free.
"I saw no glory in th' blood, no victors in th' dust. I cared not when I met my end- in solitude, I'd trust."
Another pause, another breath, another rise in strength, another step back into memory. "There were no gods, no beasts, no men, only fools an' madthin's all.
"A cacophanous blur, bullets, steel an' fur, desecration in once-'allowed 'alls.
Leon raised his empty hand as it slowly balled into a fist, speaking now through gritted teeth. "I saw them, I saw them, I could - not - stop - seein' them, they followed my ev'ry stumble
"'Eart ached fer quiet, ever denied it, findin' comfort in th' numb."
Leon inhaled again, and threw the notepad to the floor as he turned to face the crowd, eye wide and voice almost a bellow.
"Too much, too little, too late, too long, distractions, reactions, maniacal throngs!
"Th' very world cracked, nations aback, all momentarily stalled--"
Leon paused, reaching out, but stopping midway, fingers outstretched, staring at something that wasn't there.
"All around I saw truth, for th' first time in years, an'...
"I only knew fear."
Leon brings both hands to his chest, balled into white-knuckled fists again. "'Ow long would it last? 'Ow long till present became past?
"'Ow long could I fight? 'Ow long will I fight? 'Ow long must I fight?"
Leon sounds so very small, so tired. "...when would it end? 'Ow could it end? Would I let it end? ...Would it end because o' me?"
"For my action? Inaction? Presence? Absence?
"Would I be remembered when I couldn't remember it?
"Did I deserve t'remember? Do I deserve t'be remembered?"
Leon fell silent, taking a long breath, steadying, calming, trembling. He stood up a little straighter as he exhaled, reaching up and dragging his hands through his hair. "All around me, suddenly thin's were mine."
"People, an' thin's, an' lives, an' desires.
"Did I deserve them?"
Leon bends down to pick up the notepad, dusting it off and delicately unfolding it again.
"...If I do, then let it be mine. Come an' take it from me.
"An' if I don't? Try anyway, an' see."
Leon closed the notepad with a loud THWACK. "I 'ave now claimed my cause. Or per'aps, it 'as claimed me?.."
"I am th' purpose o' my life, an' I am Their legacy.
"I saw no glory in th' blood, no victor in th' dust.
"I see now an' end tha' I couldn't see then
"An' it's mine, no matter th' cost."
Leon quietly tucks the notepad back into his pocket, and nods his head to the room.
In the last episode, Rhiswyn had managed to spot a wandering Terry in Darnassus, and chased him all the way back to Stormwind. Once there, she found him in a conversation with a forsaken that went south very quickly. As he was about to leave, he caught her scent, and after a tense minute or two, she’d made a break for it. She only managed to escape unharmed thanks to her beloved Jormund and his impressive throwing skills, and a furious and humiliated Terry slunk off to plot. It wasn’t simply a matter of wanting to find her; he *needed* to... (TW: Drugs, some torture, and explosives)
I’ve been (very, very slowly) editing and reposting old/lost RP logs of the story for Leon and Terry over on Pillowfort in preparation for making that my main blog rather than Tumblr. If you were curious what kind of a bastard Terry really was to end up in the hot water he’s in these days, take a look at this post and the others on my Pillowfort (there really aren’t that many right now, I’ve been lazy).
Also if you’d like an invite, just lemme know; I can do three a week.
( Immediately following the events laid out here ... )
Inventory day was not Rhodryn’s favorite day, but neither was it her least favorite. Customers could be vile creatures in need of a few days with no tongue, but they could also be bundles of sweetness as capable of brightening one's day as any pastry in the shop, if you let them. But inventory day was quiet, and rewarding, and now that the shop's owner had returned, it was guaranteed to be an easy day in pleasant company, doing little more than looking for places missed in the regular cleanup.
Or it usually was. Today might not be so pleasant, to judge by the rambling voice of her employer drifting back from the storeroom.
"...still too bloody riled. I din't--Darlain said if, if I was fixatin'--this's def'nitely fixatin'--if I was fixatin' an' I'd already run outta mad an' there was nobody around an'--this's def'nitely fixatin'. So I'm fixatin'. That's wrong. Somethin's wrong. Cuz I got played? ... no. Not now, tha's not it. Why th'fuck're you still mad day after, bruv..?"
So the ren’dorei put on her gear with the ingrained stealth of decades of servitude, and listened. She was not particularly intent on spying, but what was there to drown him out in the empty shop when she was scrubbing the floor?
At least he wasn't just babbling in there, to judge by the sound of boxes and bags shuffling back and forth and his boots clicking across the floor. "...so she'n'er guy invite you up, an' that's fine, we're fine, s'great, an' then there's idle dumb chatter an' that's fine too, tell 'em th' dumb stories, good laughs, all's great...when’d we start talkin' about my arse? ...well they liked my arse anyway..."
Everyone likes your arse, idiot; it's a good arse. She worked intently at a particularly stubborn stain in a floorboard under the edge of a cabinet, though she was becoming suspicious that it was not chocolate, as she had always assumed, but something more like blood. What had been going on in this shop lately?
It could very well have been blood! ...up till it finally worked loose enough to peel back, and reveal itself as some form of fossilized berry sauce. At least, it had probably been berries... it was sauce, anyway. Blood didn't... stretch... like that.
"...good a time as any t'mention th' missuses, right, nat'ral part o' th'talkin', chattin' about ev'rythin'...she's gotta rule 'bout married men, fine, 'ear tha' plenty, so nah, ours is open, they like 'earin' stories later anyway, but she's got 'er rule so fine, Iggy's still comin' at me...least I think 'e is, gods only know now--no, no, that's uncharitable..."
Could be meatjuice, that could get a bit stretchy. Should be able to smell - Light's sake, did I really just sniff ancient--
”--still comin’ at me--” Her ears perked up in surprise, and then back down low as she scowled hard. Someone had threatened her boss? And just like that, he had her full attention, halfway through peeling mystery gunk off the floor.
"--'ave t'call it a hamhock? yeah 'e was tryin't'be flat'rin' but hamhock? ... gettin' off-track. 'E 'as a lovely 'amhock of 'is own anyway, tha' wasn't a problem, stop that... wierd word choices are not th' issue, Leon, stop. Stop."
For a little bit, he was quiet, apparently forcing himself to actually take a break from his odd little conversation and do work a bit more efficiently. The mystery gunk briefly gave off a faint stench of scotch gone horribly awry, but that might've been her mind playing tricks.
Leon was messing with his adding machine by the time he started talking again, so he'd clearly made something resembling progress.
"She's still comin' at me right along with 'im, but she's got rules about married men... din't stop 'er any, did it? But I come at 'er back, I'll be th' prick, won't I... an' dammit Iggy's all about it, too... damn fine kisser fer a clown, tha' man..."
Oh. Not threats. How this man loved to abuse his language's idioms... She relaxed and resumed peeling. It couldn't be scotch, scotch wouldn't peel like this. Unless he'd made a sauce of it...
All this grumbling and anger over flirting? That can't truly be the whole of it…
"...got rules about married men, don't y', but yer fine teasin'em after th' fact...cruel thin', y'were speakin' plain an' I were speakin' plain an' then y'still go go go..."
She sighed silently and rubbed at her forehead with the back of her hand.
You're better than this, Mister Ambroce. Please be better than this.
A brief pause, and then a soft thump, most likely his fist on his desk. "All that an' Iggy too! Again th' guy's a wash! Augh!"
The void elf rose to her feet, took a deep breath, and said, "You are an idiot."
"F--!" There was an awfully loud bang and ruckus in that storeroom. A few seconds later, Leon's head peeked around the doorframe at floor level. Spooked horses looked less rattled than he did in that moment. "...Rhodryn?"
The effect of arching a single brow was magnified when that brow was about three times as long as a human’s and trailed shadows from the tip as it moved. She turned away from him, going to wash her hands. "That sounded painful. Do you need healing?"
"No...no." There was a resigned sigh in his voice. He had very quickly learned not to expect any sort of sympathy from her, not that he'd hoped for it anyway. "Mostly th' chair scuffed up th' wall."
No sympathy, but she did offer a hand up once her hands were no longer sticky. "Good. Did that knock some sense into you, or am I going to have to do it?"
Blinking owlishly up at her, he reached up to take the hand almost on autopilot. "What?... why're you even here?"
"It is inventory day, is it not?"
"I..." Grimacing, Leon got to his feet, and brushed off several large dust bunnies from his shirt. "...Sorry. I thought it was earlier." Because it was either that, or admit he'd forgotten he had a manager again. His memory had been unreliable ever since his brain took a vacation in Kul Tiras.
"I always come in early." She patted his shoulder and went to retrieve her cleaning rag. "However, it sounded like you had distracted yourself, so I will forgive you the oversight."
Around people, she nearly always had a pleasant little smile on an otherwise inexpressive face, which made her difficult to read. Now, though, he heard the grin in her voice as she teased him. Though he'd heard her no-customers-all-day voice before, it was rare. He was even less familiar with her being openly amused at him. A bit of a mental rewind as he rubbed the shoulder that'd been briefly pinned between his chair and the wall reminded him of what had started it. "...an' 'o's an idiot, exactly?"
"You and I are the only two people here, and I was not ranting to a sack of flour about flirting that didn't go my way."
So rare to get Leon to the point of fish-mouthing, and yet look at him go, jaw dropping and closing again with an audible clack. After his skin had already taken on a couple extra shades of red, he looked away and grumbled, "Wasn't rantin'. It's a de-escalation exercise. ...S'posed t'ave a duck."
"You do not have a duck. You have an elf, capable of asking questions, such as, 'What is so wrong with aimless flirting that you are so angry at these people?'"
He almost groaned, but stopped himself at the last moment. As a side note, expressions normally accompanied by the groan of someone who sincerely wished they could disappear through a floor that are not accompanied by a groan are very silly-looking. "Y'were list'nin'."
"It was difficult to not."
Desperate for something to do with his hands and, coincidentally, also wanting to hide his still-flaming face, Leon turned and headed for the pastry cases and the cabinets underneath them, pulling his notepad out of his back pocket. "Aimless flirtin's not a problem."
With a sigh, she returns to her hunt for dirt. "What made you think it was not aimless?"
He knelt in front of the cabinet just as she asked that, and there was a clunk as he accidentally cracked his knuckle on the edge of the door. Really? This was what she wanted to express interest in? "...some people think it's fun t'flirt with a guy t'make 'im look stupid."
"Some people just like to flirt."
"An' that's fine! Flirtin's fun if ev'rybody's clear onnit! But not after y'say it's not gonna 'appen!"
Rho stopped hunting under the tables and stood so she could look at him, head cocked to one side. "That is what I don't understand. She said it was not going to happen - that is what 'rules about married men' means, yes? Would that not make it aimless flirting, with a stated lack of intent to follow through?"
The cabinet door thunked shut. "I put it plain I woulda liked t'roll with 'er, she put it plain she wouldn't be rollin' with me. Keeps right on goin' after me an' not just with words, so does 'er buddy. Y'think that's okay?"
She stared, and then blinked slowly. "I do not flirt, and this conversation makes me more grateful for that choice by the second. Let me make certain I understand. You told her, plainly, that you would like to sleep with her, she told you plainly she would not sleep with you because you are married, yet she and her friend continued to flirt and... prevented you from leaving?"
"What?" Finally, he looked up at her. "No, o' course not."
Rho crossed her arms and drummed her fingers against her cheek, then held out her hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. "Wait. What rules?"
"Wha' d'you mean?"
"Her rules about married men. What are they? I assumed she meant 'no married men,' because that is my rule about married men."
He started to answer, but his face fell just slightly as the words "That's what I figured, yeah" came out of his mouth. Finally, the gears appeared to be turning. "She din't want wives comin' after 'er, she said."
"That is my reasoning, as well. That is not a problem in your situation. Your situation that you are very happy to talk about at length. As such, you would be an exception to that rule."
"Yeah, an' I said tha', an'--" He paused, and slowly looked up at the ceiling. The gears reached full speed, and ground through a particularly stubborn chunk of rust that dislodged with such force that he sighed. He’d gone and made assumptions and hadn’t caught himself and it’d bitten him and he’d totally failed to notice until it was too late. "...first of all, Rhodryn, yer now my duckie. Second of all, please slap me upside th'ead."
Rho blinked again, then crossed the room and slapped him upside the head. "Never call me your duckie again."
He asked her to do it, so while surprised that she did do it, he made no attempt to stop her, only rubbing gently at the spot once she'd done it. "Yes'm."
"Now. How will you set this right?"
"I'm...fuck." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck I'm so bloody stupid... Mngh. Apologize, obviously, but'm not sure 'ow."
"What apology would you have accepted if they had been wrong?"
"That's--well, yeah, that's a trick too, but tha's not what I meant, actually." Walking back into the storeroom for a moment, he brought her a flyer from the Ironforge Craft Fest, where he'd circled 'Sarah Hadley' on the list of entertainers. "Aside from askin' 'er sister, which is grossly inappropriate I'm sure I don't need t'tell you, I'm not sure 'ow t'get in touch."
She took the flyer and stared at the name for a moment, again drumming her fingers on her cheek. "Why is it grossly inappropriate to ask where you should deliver an apology?"
"It's-- Iunno, is it a social etiquette thin' fer elves at all, not goin' through a middleman fer pers'nal matters?"
She peered at him. "Are you speaking of having the sister deliver the apology, while I am speaking of asking the sister for... 'Sarah's' location?"
"No. Just th' latter." For all that Leon was a worldly man, he was frequently painfully Gilnean. Even Vember would’ve been hard-pressed not to laugh at him.
"I see no reason it should be inappropriate, as long as you only tell the sister that you need to deliver an apology, not what it is for." Rho handed the flyer back. "If speaking to her bothers you overmuch, what options do you see other than asking the sister for Sarah's contact information?"
Leaning against the counter, he stared at the flyer and bit his lip. "...mmf. I spose there's tha'."
"You could wait and hope you see her again. I do not think you would like to let this gnaw at you for that long, though. You could hire someone to find her, but you would have to phrase your explanation very carefully if that is discovered. Or, you could ask the sister, perhaps provide her a token of appreciation for her help, and get this behind you."
"She's gonna punch me." Wry laugh. "Prolly deserve a couple more o' those."
"If you reacted harshly in public, yes, you do deserve a few punches."
"...less 'arshly an' more... um... well, I kin think o' plenty of other less charitable words than tha'.” Childishly, foolishly... was bitchily a word? Bitchily seemed like a good word. “But yeah." Brain finally settled into something resembling a course of action, Leon sighed. “Thank you.”
"Of course." Rhodryn bowed her head slightly, and went back to cleaning, taking the thank-you as a dismissal.
Hours later, as they checked each others’ final counts for accuracy, Leon burst out laughing when he got to the end of her overstock list. ‘One (1) too many romantic fools who have apologies to make.’
Amber had come by to drop of the most recent shipment of delivery boxes for him, and to discuss options for the holiday in February. Business almost always gave way to pleasure in their conversations, the consequence of friendship with a cook. The consequence of friendship with an attractive, friendly cook with a nice butt and a lovely face and...whew. Focus, Amber...
"So! What confections and sweets will you be offering this year for the holiday?"
"Think I might try t'keep it relatively simple, try goin' easy on m'self just once an' see 'ow it treats me. A few specials, 'igh end, but not twenty of 'em like I did b'fore."
Leon drew out a narrow box about a foot long and two-ish inches wide with his finger. "Li'l six-piece truffle trays."
Her gaze followed the air-doodling and she nodded, "May I take a sketch home with me? For measurement purposes as I assume you will be needing these in the proper colors, and please don't remove the chocolate covered caramel medley! I loved those last year. I only ordered a dozen boxes for myself."
He nodded and quickly dragged out a bit of scrap paper and a pencil to actually scrawl out the measurements he'd been looking for, including a quick circle to rough out the approximate size of the truffles themselves.
She grinned sheepishly, "The salted caramel and orange infused caramel centers were my favorite. I couldn't get enough! I swear, I gained five pounds."
No matter how many times she--or anybody else--complimented his food, he seemed to respond the same way every time, ducking his head a tiny bit and smiling bashfully. "...Wouldn't dream of it. You an' 'alf th' Mage Quarter, all over th' caramels. I was thinkin' about at least one spicy one, an' one usin' a peach liquor a friend o' mine introduced me to at a weddin'."
"I wouldn't be opposed, though I can not be held responsible for anything I do or say should I become drunk on them. Are you doing a mint liquor truffle this year? If so, I may have to buy a few of those." She grinned sheepishly, as she tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear and idly nipped at the corner of her lip.
She'd caught that sheepish look and it made her heart flip out of control for a few moments. Her breath even hitched at the sight before she managed to shake it off and refocus. FOCUS, AMBER, FOCUS!
Leon, at least, seemed to be mostly focused on business for the time being. Made sense, get him talking about food and he'd be busy for hours. He stood up from his chair and went a bit further down the storage room, picking along the racks until he found the right tray and pulling it out just a bit.
"Don't think that'd be too common? I do a coupla mint cookies as part o' th' normal stock."
“Truffles and cookies are not the same. And I'd personally attempt to buy you out of stock if you did chocolate mint truffles." She called out to him while watching him go through his storage. With him not looking at her and a good distance between them, she finally spoke up on another topic.
"Vae asked me to marry him."
That made him pause, but only for a few seconds before he put the tray back into place and moved a bit further down to pull another. Taking up a couple pieces of something, he return to his desk, all smiles, and held out a little slice of what turned out to be vanilla cake for her. "Tell me."
Upon his return, he noticed the rise in nervous energy that seemed to consume her as she took the offering with both hands and lifted her shoulders in a gentle shrug. "I said no...the first time." Almost immediately after that, she forked a large mouthful of cake into her orifice so that she didn't have to say more for the moment.
Yep, she was definitely nervous. If that surprised him, he wasn't showing it, only sitting back down in his chair and leaning back, attentive and, unfortunately for her, quiet.
She swallowed her cake with some difficulty before setting aside the plate with a gentle sigh and admitting, "Vaerinis is an elf. And while I love him more than anything I realized that he would outlive me by... centuries, and it just didn't ...feel right? So," She swallowed again, braving a look at him,"I made a decision in large part due to your influence."
She didn't have to be a genius to see the worry on his face at that. Had he wrecked a home without even doing anything? "'Ow so?"
She smiled at him as an offer of small reassurance. "It dawned on me that a person can love more than one person, equally and in different ways. You do it, after all. So I spoke to him about the possibility of opening our relationship in a manner that would allow him to explore that should he ever be inclined, and explained to him my worries and concerns when it came to us."
Again, she was tucking hair, a nervous tick of hers that she couldn't help right then. "After much debate and a few tears, mostly on my end, he understood and we agreed to a polyarmorous...I think that is the term...relationship, with one caveat."
She finally held up her hand to show the engagement ring to him, "We are only to be married to each other and no others so long as I live. His only demand for the entire thing."
It took him a little while after she started her explanation for him to fully process what she'd said, partially due to his worry that he'd offended. Once that had been firmly shunted aside, he could actually think, announced by a few more rapid blinks and a certain slackness in his jaw. His mouth hadn't fallen open, but it seemed like it could at any time.
By the time she'd finished, he was smiling again, and properly this time. There was, after all, a brand new engagement band in front of him, and it wasn't on a fist headed rapidly toward his eye. "That's fan-bloody-tastic, Amber! Congratulations! I... well, I can't say I'm not pretty shocked t'ear tha' from you."
She laughed as that nervous energy briefly fled in the wake of his excitement for her. "I can't say that I didn't surprise myself when I brought it up, but then again," She ducked her gaze, a crimson hue staining her cheeks as her nervousness returned full bore, " I can't say I wasn't shocked when I found myself admitting that he wasn't the only man I had deep feelings for."
In a perfect world where a merciful god not only existed, but paid direct attention to Amber in particular and thought she rather deserved some help, Leon would be perceptive when it mattered most. Unfortunately, such was not the world they lived in, and Leon was still Leon, and he only saw a girl wanting to gush to her friend about a crush she'd finally gotten to act on.
"Well, g'on, tell me 'bout 'im, then. Makes you flush tha' way, must be good."
She blushed all the more, now completely unable to even look at him. Her hands came up to tuck hair behind both ears as she attempted to capture scattered thoughts and spoke with that nervous stammer she always got when completely flustered.
"W..well. He is a m-m-man with a k-kind heart. C-Com-Compassionate. G-Giving. V...very giving. He has the most amazing b-b-blue eye. H... He can cook and he has always made me f-feel welcome and ..s...safe. H...he never hesitates to offer advice or an ear when I need it, or a shoulder to cry on and his name is Leon."
The last few words were almost a whisper as she shrank back slightly and waited for his reaction with a twisted brow.
The smile on his face, all but ever-present, slowly gave way as Amber's speech went on and his brain's maintenance guy tried desperately to reignite the pilot light. It finally flared back to life about two seconds before she came right out and said his name, but of course at that point all he could do right away was stare while his mouth went dry.
His voice was similarly whispery when he finally managed a weak, startled, "Me?"
And that was when the full blown panic set in. She was immediately waving her hands in front of her and shaking her head as she stammered and stumbled, "Please don't think that I expect anything! I would never expect--”
“Amber?”
“--it to be returned. It's just that you are so sweet and giving and everything I was taught that a man was supposed--”
“Amber.”
“--to be and I think I knew down that I loved you months ago but I never said anything because I respect you too much and I know you are married and I was with someone!"
“Amber.”
She finally whimpered then groaned as she started to scoot from his desk, fully intent on fleeing the scene, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I.. I should go. Yeah, I should go--”
"AMBER."
He stood from his chair as she turned away from him and brought his hand down on her shoulder. It was a firm enough grip to make himself known, but not enough to restrain her if she really wanted to escape him in that moment. "Deep breath. Right? Breathe for me."
It was the combination of that last Amber, his hand and her own suddenly smooshing the remainder of her slice of cake that managed to get her to shut up. She was slow to look up at him, emerald eyes as wide as saucers as she'd clearly just put herself into a near fullblown panic.
Deep breath. She gulped on air. Breathe for me. She tried but her lungs felt so tight that she was near hyperventilating while gulping air more than actually breathing it.
He'd been so very loud a moment ago, more so than she'd likely ever heard him go short of when he was chasing a thief. Now, he was speaking softly like there was a sleeping child in the next room, or like he was coaxing a deer to eat from his hand. ... He knew better than to make either of those comparisons aloud. "Easy, babygirl. Once more. Breathe in, wait, breathe out. Got all th'time in th' world, right?"
It felt like an eternity between breaths, but, she soon managed to find breathing with a relative ease despite the fact that she refused to look up at him, having focused on a button on his chef's jacket instead. "I'm sorry," She mumbled in a raspy little voice that still tremored heavily with the fear she still felt at having possibly ruined a friendship.
"Whatever for?" His fingertips brushed across her cheek, not making any attempt to force her to look at him. Right now force seemed the last thing she needed, even less so than restraint. "You've brought me such 'appy news."
His touch was a welcome one, despite the fact that even in her current state, it still managed to make her pulse thread dangerously. Swallowing down her heart as it felt as if it had become lodged in her throat, she bemoaned, "Yes, and then I had to go and ruin it by opening my big mouth."
"Could be worse. Coulda tripped int' me again."
His reward was a frown as she fiddled with her own fingers, just kind of attempting to wipe the ruined cake from them as she murmured, "I think I would have preferred that to this blubber up."
"Kin I offer another option?"
"Of course." She finally managed to glance up at him as if to gauge his thoughts and just how badly she just ruined things between them.
First, he kissed her forehead. Amber's eyes drifted closed, semi-relieved by the action only to frown as he said, "Never apologize." She opened her mouth to argue, "But to not apologize would be r--" but she never got to finish that thought as Leon's lips covered her own.
A series of events happened in a matter of seconds. Initially, there was shock, her body stiffening as she hadn't been expecting that. Then confusion before that was quickly followed up by a muffled whimper as her hands twisted into his chef's jacket and she actually, tentatively kissed him back all while thinking this was just another of those dreams...
The Cookbook closed a bit early that evening, and the chef was seen leaving in a bit of a rush, disheveled and carrying a delivery bag and a bottle of what looked like wine.
He only briefly stopped at home, both to pick up a few things, and to let his wives know, “It ‘appened again” and not to expect him until late. Pin joked that they needed to buy a ranch at this rate, rather than build a house. Leon couldn’t find it in him to argue.
"People died. We even killed a few defending ourselves from the people who had been affected by Lord Ambersun."
"People died. Because I killed them?"
"I know it doesn't make a difference, but you didn't. It did. 'Lord Ambersun' is wanted in Boralus. There was a battle between Kul'Tiras and some pirates on Vigil Hill. We tracked you down there and you and your ‘men’ had joined the fray."
"Okay. .. Okay. Anythin' else?"
"I didn't see it happen myself. It was a vision that i'm pretty sure was brought on by the same things trying to take over my head. It's not over, either. We think they got to Lucien too. Took on the personality of the Lord's daughter. A bounty hunter grabbed her and we're going to have to track him."
"...Lucien. Dwyn's boy? That Lucien?"
"We're pretty sure, yeah. The men that the Lord recruited all over went back to being themselves after getting away from you. This 'daughter' was an exception to that. And Lucien disappeared around the same time as you."
The conversation--more an interrogation than either Leon or Pin would have preferred, but they both understood the necessity--went on for hours. All the while, Leon ate, as much due to nerves as to genuine hunger. The ersatz Lord had apparently been having a rough go toward the end, and when Leon came back to himself, he’d been absolutely ravenous. And confused, realizing he was in a harbor-scented inn somewhere, with Pin, Murkey, Wes, and Ranek staring at him like they were waiting for him to strike.
It became clear that that was exactly what they were waiting for, because he’d done exactly that several times over, in the last six hours. He was a wanted man now, or at least this alternate personality wearing his face was. All this, but he hadn’t even been aware he was in Kul Tiras, let alone Boralus. Not that part of Boralus, anyway; the last thing he knew, he’d been at Inkwell, talking to Darlain about some music he’d heard from across the harbor near Upton Borough.
That, he learned, was two months ago.
When the group had captured him--captured him--and snuck him into an inn, they’d managed to chase “Lord Ambersun” out of his head. Unfortunately, in his place, he left a Leon who didn’t know how to speak Common, but understood it. Rolling through a handful of languages to no effect, they’d eventually realized he was wearing what amounted to a costume in his Kul Tiran finery.
The very moment the fine nobleman’s coat came off, a new voice took over. This time, he had been aware of it. A woman’s voice, high-bred or affecting something like it, talking to everyone as though they were children.
"Ah. This one finally broke. Pity."
Pin's eyes narrowed, unsure of what was transpiring but knowing, at last, that she was speaking to the one responsible for all this. "Who are you? What did you do?"
Leon's brows knit in confusion, but the woman chuckled mirthlessly. "Irrelevant. Xovor found the subject we needed. This one was beneficial, but ultimately, not viable. We thank you for your--hmph--collaboration."
Murkey moved back confused... this wasn't her Leon, not at all. "Who...Who are you talking about?" Her pen fluttered fast over the book floating there.
"Don't worry. We're still in alpha testing. There will be other invitations."
"What the fuck?" was about all Pin could muster, all of this... was just a test? "Get the hell out of him. Now."
Whoever this bitch was, she had the kind of laugh that made you feel like you were being patted on the head and congratulated for trying. Leon clearly did not care for the noises coming out of his mouth, but couldn't do anything to stop them. "Don't fret, little mutt. I won't hold this against you when we're ready. You'll be given the same chance as everyone else. I suggest you line up early.
"The dramatic little children are far more productive uses of our time anyway."
Ranek growled, as one predator to another. Skarre fluttered her wings and cawed. "There is more than void at work here. Other types of magic fluctuate in the air... so Skarre says. I feel the myriad of magics."
Leon's head turned toward Ranek, but his face looked as lost as ever. "Perhaps there's hope for some of you dullards, at least. Well! As stimulating as this conversation has been, I have diagnostics to run and subjects to process. Your feedback has been a gift that we shall treasure always."
Another infuriating chuckle. "If he remembers, do ask him how we did, would you? He was tricky."
"Out. Now." Pin was done with this, beyond done... she just... wanted it all back to how it was... somehow.
"'Off,' if you wish to be accurate. Toodle-oo!"
At the end of it all, all Leon wanted was to go home. He was handling it all far too calmly, and he was self-aware enough by now to realize that meant he was going to collapse in a heap and panic properly sooner or later. If he was going to do that anyway, he’d much rather be doing it in the comfort of home.
Boralus wasn’t going to be safe for him for a while, anyway. Witchcraft and mind theft were far from unheard of there, but authorities still needed proof.
Which, thanks to the draenei hunter that’d taken Lucien, they didn’t have.
