The bottle? Oh, right! 'Yeah, no, I remember!' Glancing around, Xen tried to catch a glimpse of the elusive liquor. 'You, uh, mind grabbin' it for me? My hands are full.' Her foot caught something solid that clinked in response. Might've been a bottle. Xen couldn't say for certain.

Bending at the knees, the Deva grinned toothily, muscles muscling as her cargo groped around for Gordar's gift.

Perhaps, if she played her cards right, Xen would be able to keep the bottle in exchange for Vyn. Not the fairest of trades, granted, but then she had spun her web in wilder environs than this, with folk that didn't give a lick as to her wellbeing.

Oh, who am I kidding! Vyn was far too precious for that.

'Good? Good!' Rising to her full height, Xenovia powered on up the hill, making sure to keep her breathing in check lest it get the better of her. A lone figure awaited them at the top, hunched against the wind, as if just another wild menhir left to while away the ages. 'Is that Mister G?' Xen asked, quietly. 'Looks... I dunno. Lonely?'
 
Vyn's tail crept from within the fabric and blindly felt at the ground. Made sure to grab Xen's leg at least once by 'accident' before it picked up the bottle proper. Once the container was off the ground, it was a quick swing over to her lap. Didn't want a tailcramp to ruin her plunder.

They'd found Gordar's stocky self hunched and alone. Vyn'd heard he was real social once upon a time. These days he just skulked around. Real talked in small groups – but avoided parties like the plague. Funny, how today's party was to be in his honor.

„He's just old. Talks to Jem a lot, though.“

„Let me down.“ Vyn became fussy. Wasn't sure the runefolk cared, but she felt the need to bow as she approached. Wasn't quite sure of the viability of the movement. She had a passenger that made middlebending bit of an issue.
 
'Like trying to draw blood from a stone.' Xen wagered, studying Gordar with Vyn still cradled in her arms, bottle tucked to her chest like a nursing babe. The guy looked ancient, but there was an air about him that demanded respect. Even Xen could sense it - the weight of centuries piled upon the dwarf's shoulders.

Maybe a drink really will help him, she thought, feeling a sharp pang in her chest. Something like longing or sadness? A volatile mix of the two?

'Y-yeah, of course!' Carefully, the Deva set Vyn down, feet finding purchase on the rugged earth packed beneath their boots, like a burial mound long since forgotten. Glancing towards Gordar, Xen cleared her throat, the devilish glow behind her eyes flaring in surprise as the menhir-man responded to what felt like an intrusion on their parts.

'Um, hi!' Xen held up a hand in greeting, nerves creeping like spider legs across pale skin.
 
Vyn shrugged. Jem talked to her fine – or let her talk for them both. Same difference. They understood each other.

Bowing did not go to plan, slight slope followed by pushing on the lower back to straighten back up. Messed it up some, but she doubted he noticed. Still, traditions mattered.

And that's when she saw them, half a dozen bottles already marking different spots around him. One was empty by a clump of rock. Two more still corked by his feet. Three were halfdrunk and lined up to the bark of a nearby oak. That made her own offering feel smaller. Thought she was being clever – but apparently they were all raised with the same brand of clever in mind.

Nevermind. She'd make sure hers was done properly. None of that corked and halfdone stuff.

„Hello Xenovia.“ Gordar looked like he might raise a hand up in greeting, but it was too slow, mistimed with the words. „And a friend, is that...“

„Little Audrin.“ More gravel than voice now. She remembered when he sounded squeaky and joyful. All seemed distant now. Never understood that name. Never seen anyone else use it. And it made sense, because she was Vyn. Whatever name he'd given her, she'd yet to grow to it.

„Xen and I have come to get you proper storied up.“
„Oh?“
„Well the two of you do the drinking, passenger and I make a story of it.“

Close enough now to notice more stonefication than last year. Not many years left until his Truename was Granite.

„Pop the cork, Xen.“ Arm held out to the woman.

A slow, strained laugh or rocks cracking.
 
Bowing was not Vyn's forte, but at least she tried. Xen probably should have done the same, made a go of the whole song and dance. Instead, she found herself glancing around at the hilltop. Lot of bottles up here, she thought, turning slowly, brow scrunched in curiousity, with a touch of confusion to dilute the mix.

There was glass as blue as the Summer sky; green as the grass beneath their feet. Browns and reds as deep and dark as the mud the worms called home. Old vintages and new. Faded labels and a handful of fresh prints.

'Lot of liquor for one man,' she commented, more to herself than to the two souls she shared the hill with. Blinking, she turned back to Gordar as he spoke her name. Another that sounded strange in its newness. 'Audrin, huh?' Glancing at Vyn, the devahni shook out her mane, let her eyes settle on the smaller woman, the ghost of a smile teasing her lips. 'I like it,' she said. 'Rolls off the tongue. Kinda like wine, if you drink it funny.'

A conversation for later. Or never, if Vyndrin so chose.

Taking the bottle, Xen's smile widened, a nod accompany a twist. 'You got it, Pops!' Laughter rolled like a landslide down the slope, drowning out the sound of success, but not the sight.

Wiping her hand clean on a stretch of sleeve, Xen passed the bottle back to Gordar. 'Here you go,' she grinned, unsure of the significance of the gesture. 'Your day. Guessin' that means you get to drink first?' Again, her eyes flitted to the bottles, then to Vyn.

'Um, what're you gonna be drinking?' She asked, not wanting to leave her friend out. Passenger included.
 
Vyn winked at the other woman. Her drinking days were...deferred for the moment.

„Oh... that one's for you, Xenovia.“ Gordar pulled out a smaller flask and struggled to open it. When it finally popped, it smelled like what they'd used as paintstripper back in Akkelon. „Audrin and I are full of other things...“
Yeah, full of shit – Vyn thought.

And even as no words passed her lips, Gordar still cracked an eyebrow at her long enough to feel shame. Always knew her mind well enough. Guess that's what raising someone did. No matter how clever kids got, you had tenure on them.

„Grin and granite.“ Flask tipped before he took a sip. Bothered Vyn's nosehairs across the few feet between them. Wasn't a cheers she'd heard before, and she'd heard him say some really strange things.

„When we passed Akkelon, I thought you might stay. Were they not your kin?“

Vyn's ears perked up too. Not because she was nosy – oh no – it was... recordkeeping. Yes, that's what it was.

Because some people struggled to stay grounded even as their ass found the grass.
 
'I can see that!' Xen grinned, eyeing Gordar up and down, before turning to give Vyn a cheeky wink. Short and stout, Gordar may have gotten slower over the years, but the Deva found it difficult to imagine him having lost his strength. As for Vyn, well, she was big for an entirely different reason.

It was then she noticed the way the two were looking at each other, like parent and child. Loving, yes, but there was also a hint of something else. Xen envisioned wooden spoons and scoldings, but who was to say, really?

Taking a swig of the wine, Xen nigh choked as Gordar's question reached her ears. Somehow, whether through experience or plain dumb luck, she managed to keep from spluttering her response. 'They were,' she nodded, suddenly hesitant as she set the wine down. 'Still are. My parents, my... kin, as you put it.' Forced to flee a home they had known since before her birth. For their safety, and mine, she told herself, picturing their faces, and smiling wanly at the memory of their reunion, tearful as it had been.

'I would have stayed, but I... I...' Her throat felt tight, and she glanced at Vyn sidelong, nervous now. 'I couldn't. 'Cause of what happened... back in Crown's Hold.'
 
Rough tap and crunch of stone at Xen's elbow, Gordar side. Used to be he'd tap you on the back – but it had been some years since joints had last properly jointed. But you couldn't count on old people to lighten the moment – or Vyn couldn't.

„Crown's Hold, huh?“ Vyn edged in like memory.

She remembered how Xen had been that first night. Was the reason she still worried about her dreams. But one could dwell, or one could, well:

„Lemme guess, woke 'em up six times in one night? Folks have long memory for sins like those.“ A weak, grass framed grin of her own.

„Unforgivable, really.“

Little guy kicked her. Didn't know about punchlines yet, thank the gods.
 
Xen didn't know what Gordar was trying to do. Be supportive, maybe? Earned himself a lingering look and a nod regardless. More than Vyn's attempt at humour warranted, anyhow.

'Yeah... Unforgivable.'

She knew Vyn meant well, knew she worried. But Xen didn't have it in her to smile, let alone laugh. 'I didn't so much wake them up as put them to sleep,' she continued, sitting down in the tall grass, 'cause her legs didn't feel like holding her up. 'There are bad people in Crown's Hold. A few good ones, too. The latter don't last as long, but they left more of an impression, like shooting stars... or four leaf clovers.' Lucky to have known such bright sparks. Not so lucky to have lost them.

'There were these men. Not very nice men. They belonged to a gang, and that gang belonged to a boss.' Thugs and killers, rapers and blackmailers. Unsavoury folk. Just thinking about them made Xen's skin crawl. 'The boss, as it so happened, had a thing for devahni women... and wasn't used to being told no.'

Shivering, Xen hugged her knees to her chest, the wine going untouched as she stared not at Gordar, but through him.

'One day... one day Mister Boss heard tell of a certain redheaded Deva hanging about the Sink. A young woman, bright hair, glowing eyes,' she blinked, felt her throat grow tight, as if to choke off the words before she could speak them.
 
She'd never expected so much to come out. Figured maybe they'd laugh a bit and she could sneak in a tailtickle...but a hornethouse wasn't a thing you could unkick.

„Shit.“ But one wasn't enough. Her mind needed time to process. „Shit. Shit. Shit.“

Hand reached out towards Xen – a pat, a hug, a whateverthefuck...but who would even want to be touched now – when not wanting the touch was the entire problem. Hung there awkwardly before running through Vyn's own hair.

„Someone else is safe now, cause of what you did.“ Claw brushed at smudge at Xen's sleeve, like it really needed to go. Ass to ass and shadows stretching next to each other. It would have to be enough.

„And if Hold wants you punished for it – fuck 'em.“ Because that wasn't a home. That was a pile of shit. „This is your home. With us.“

And if anyone else wanted to mess with Xen...wouldn't just be Gordar resting on the hillside.

Gordar barely nodded when the words ran out. Just enough to know he wasn't fully stone yet.
 
Vyn was a sweet girl. Caring enough to try, at least. Maybe someone else  would be safe now thanks to her. Now that the bastard was gone for good. It was just as likely that someone had taken his place already. Filled the power vacuum left behind in the wake of his death.

The world was full of villains, and bad times -much like bad places- brought out the worst in people.

But also the good, thought Xen, unable to speak, afraid she might burst into tears if she looked up. 'They didn't push too hard... at first.' All fake smiles and teeth. Understanding in their words, but not their hearts. 'They told me how beautiful I was, how I stood to make a lot of coin, if I just said yes.'

The Sink was where people wound up when they had no place else to go. Desperation was a way of life there.

'When the pretty promises didn't work, they took to making threats. Attacked my pa when he was out drinking with his Watch buddies.' A setup, Xen knew now. Money talked, and folk sold their souls for a bit of shine. Sold their friends, too.

'Word got around that our days were numbered. Practically became pariahs in our own home,' she grinned, but there was no levity there, only quiet disbelief. 'They came for me a few days after my parents left the city. Wanted to make an example, I think. This is what happens to dumb girls that don't do as they're told.'

Xen sighed, fingernails digging into the thin fabric covering her legs, deep enough to hurt.

'I killed five men the night Vyn found me. Five... sick, twisted fucks that wanted to show the world just how big and strong they were!' This time she did laugh, laughed until it hurt. Didn't matter that her eyes were running. Or that her laughter sounded more like sobbing.

After a while, she fell silent. Nothing left to say.
 
Speech to sob to silence. And if a few teeth flashed and some hihi and haha came out, it didn't fool anyone.

Vyn's thumb checked her own cheek in case there was leakage. Busy pretending there was something to do, as ring and finger crossed in question.

Gordar shook his head slowly. Probably had more to say, but his fingers were no longer as expressive.

„Takes years.“ She said, finally. „But it makes you stone.“

Gordar didn't blink.

„Yes, I'm fucked.“

Vyn choked her own, but the wind chuckled the grass behind them.
 
Last edited:
She must've looked a god-awful mess sitting there. Thank her lucky stars Vyn hadn't given her the time to fix her makeup before coming up here. 'Straight to the drinking and sharing of fears,' she spoke softly and to herself, using the heels of her palms to dry her eyes. Sniffing, the Deva tried to smile, but gave up halfway.

'I'm sorry,' she said, to Vyn and Gordar both. 'I should've told someone sooner.'

Coulda, shoulda, woulda. Blood had a way of sticking to one's hands, and secrets... they were hungry fuckers. Eat you right up if you gave them the chance. Blinking, Xen picked up her wine, took a long, deep pull of the red within. Sweet as blood. Less of a tang to it, though.

'So.' The bottle's contents sloshed about as she gripped it by the throat. Tight. In control. 'What's the deal with today? Why're we up here collecting bottles?' She'd given the mood a good kicking. Maybe Vyn or Gordar could pick it back up, dust it off. Xen hoped they'd at least try. No-one deserved to feel as miserable as she did. None of the Elum, anyhow.
 
Vyn never knew Gordar's mind. But she knew her own well enough. And this didn't sit right. The idea that she or the dwarf, or even the Elum as a whole were somehow owed truth. Because no one owed anyone anything – except what the Road demanded.

But it was difficult to put to words without sounding dismissive.

„Told us when you could.“ Suppose that worked well enough. Wished she had some better hands and some better words, to make it all go away.

That would've been a good weave.

Her other question, however – wasn't hers to answer.

„They're just saying goodbye. Bit prematurely.“ Two more swigs of the paintstripper. „Rude, if you ask me.“

Honestly, some people couldn't even wait for a dwarf to become stone.
 
Xen hummed, gaze catching on a point in the near distance. Told when I could. Sounded like a lie agreed upon. The Deva didn't have it in her to argue the finer points with people she owed her life to. Vyn especially.

'Goodbye? Is someone leaving us?'

A new way of life, a different way of living. Xen had done her best to adapt to the Elum code, but she was still learning as she went. Every dawn brought with it a lesson. She had an easier time wrapping her head around some than others.

'It ain't you, is it, Gordar?' Skull swivelling, Xen met the menhir's stare, let it bore through her like a pick through rock. 'You've still got some years left in you, surely? Not like you'll go thirsty anytime soon.' Enough wine and liquor to drown a fish. A display of love and respect for one whose past helped pave the way towards the future.

'Hel. I only just met you!'
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom