Burning Away

  • So many newbies lately! Here is a very important PSA about one of our most vital content policies! Read it even if you are an ancient member!
Status
Not open for further replies.
Lily's eyes glanced to Ethan. Once more, she found it impossible to discern exactly what the man was thinking. Maybe that was for the best. As Maria spoke, the deep blue eyes, now partially eclipsed by her bangs, turned towards the girl. A small smile found it's way to her face. "Well, thank you." She truly had felt her story was insignificant in the presence of a king and a soldier, but Maria's acknowledgement brought a touch of warmth to her heart. She poured one more drink. Perhaps it would be the last for the night, it depended entirely upon how things went from here. She noticed as Maria's hand reached for her cup and then stopped. It seemed the woman had the good sense to know when she was finished. She almost chuckled, but Maria's next comment stopped the gesture in it's place. Lily laid her chin against the table, swirling her drink about in her glass. "I suppose you're right." She doubted she'd ever see her sister again, and personally that only slightly bothered her. She shuddered at how exactly that meeting would go were it to actually happen. Still, there were so many unanswered questions. She shook it off. Now wasn't the time or place to be thinking of such things. She looked back and forth between Ethan and Maria. These were her comrades now, her new 'family'. She looked up from the table, her chin still leaning against it. A dumb grin was emblazoned across her face. She knew better than to believe in such things.
 
Gareth bit his lip, and he felt another shiver as Wolcott talked down the messenger. The older man simply insisted on inaction until the situation had more time to develop. However panicked Harker may have been, his safety was the priority of the State, and they didn't need another mishap. Gareth relented although he still internally cried for Boyd's safe return. Wolcott spoke again impersonally with an inflected, feigned sympathy, and the Keilaud shrunk away, his quavering voice falling out. "I... I'm fine..." His feet pointed to the door. "Sorry. Goodbye." And the young man made his exit, the door clicking to its close as the squire headed out the building. He was on the streets once more, and Gareth started for his lodgings down the road without much mind for where he was going, no attention paid to other people and only quick dodges to avoid collisions in his woven path through the white streets.
 
For the first time, Trinan noticed the damage the three of them had done to the supply of alcohol in the room. Looking upon the half empty vessel, she was forced to concede that stopping was the only smart thing to do. The heat within the estate had become oppressive in the span of a few hours, she held her forehead, half expecting to feel herself burning up. Her unblocked eye ventured over the room while she rested her head in her palm. Lily was resting on the table, chin perched on the wood like a cat waiting for something to catch its interest. The comparison felt odd, she'd never raised a cat, or anything, actually. It looked like a comfortable way to sit, but that would have been letting the alcohol win. Her gaze kept wandering, finding Ethan standing by the fire as he seemed to enjoy. Incomprehensible, she couldn't understand how he wanted to be so close to the warmth when it was already so hot. She lowered her hand from her face, resting it in her lap once more. Silence fell over the room, only the gentle crackling of the fire logs and their own breathing broke the quiet. She was content to sit in silence, there was more to be shared doing that than keeping small talk going, but the short of it was she was either going to fall asleep or keep talking. Trinan had things she wanted to do that day. "I was wrong, Mister Lindwell. It wasn't a drink for desperate times," She said, slowly righting herself in the chair. Her voice was marred by fatigue more than drunkenness. "It's a drink that creates desperate times." It was a joke, but she didn't laugh. "Come join in, everybody has a sad story to get out," she said, posing the offer without seriousness. It was a voluntary kind of sharing, it had to be, and he still had every right to stand over by the fire. Without waiting for the man's answer, she had already begun to crane her head and look back towards the kitchen. That was a hopeless task, Lindwell had said his pantry was near empty and that simply wasn't enough to work with, judging by everything else in the house. It was a shame, but one she could fix later. Someone had to approach the cooking eventually, and she hadn't eaten since... the morning was already a blur, something she was grateful for.
 
The Battle of Ahmin River. Slowly, Ethan turned back to face his two retainers, leaning his back up against the side of fireplace. After a few moments of contemplating silence, Ethan decided he'd play the game, but he would not tell a sad story. While Ethan had little to no stories others would find sad, the battle was sad in it's own way, but it had more of a taste of epicness than anything else, "When I attempted to leave Alinor, I managed to raise an army of about 5,000. Enough to protect me against any lord that was trying to form an army fast as possible, small enough to move quickly through the country." Ethan began his story, gripping the cup tightly as he began to weave the 'sad' story, "After winning a battle against a small militia force, we came across our first real battle. Three lords had gathered what forces they could in the small amount of time, and sat on the other side of a river ford that I had planned on crossing." Ethan's voice began to trail off, almost as if he was done with the story, but the man once again spoke, "They numbered 15,000 strong. The river ford was the only place I could cross. If I tried to find a bridge either way down the river, I'd be cornered in by even larger forces. Being about 24 years old, feeling as invincible as one does at that age, I decided to fight the battle and let the Gods decide who would be victorious." Ethan smirked slightly as he remembered his past self, and his seemingly silly decisions, "At this point in my life, I could confidently say I was one of the few swordsmen in the world that could have the title "Greatest Alive". I was fierce with a sword, quick, strong, and smart. Many people knew to meet me in a duel was active suicide. I guess that's what gave me the arrogance to decide to charge the ford with my army behind my back." Ethan let loose a small chuckle, his grip growing stronger on the cup with each passing second, "I charged towards the ford, meaning to meet the enemy in the middle of it. We didn't possess almost any form of skirmishers, so we were torn apart by arrows and javelins as we charged. Many died from that. I was in the vanguard, and every single one seemed to miss me." Ethan tilted his head backward, staring towards the ceiling as he continued with his story, "'My King! My King! We have to pull back!' Is what the ones near me shouted, but I never stopped. Even when the cold water from the river touched my feet, I did not stop. Retreat was not an option at this point. Once I hit that icy river, the opposing army surged forth into the ford and we clashed." Ethan's face was flushed, devoid of most color at this point as he affixed his vision on small spots on the ceiling, switching between spots every so often, "I must of killed more than 30 men within the first 30 minutes of combat, but it was obvious that we were losing. The harder I drove my sword forward, the more my men were killed. I couldn't win, but I refused to take a single step backwards in that river. A whole hour and a half had to pass before I realized I was completely surrounded by the enemy, with my men pushed back onto the bank of the river. They shouted, cried out for their king, attempting to fight back towards me." Ethan coughed at this point, obviously trying to hold back some sort of emotion as he spoke, "I stood like a lion in a cage, staring down my captors and daring them to come into the lion's den to duel me, all the while my men continued to die in droves attempting to save their king. Sure enough, many of them didn't dare get within a sword's reach of me, but more than a few had the courage to stand forth. I don't know how long I fought them off for, but by the time I had earned some breathing space, having killed the last of the brave men, blackness was on the edge of my vision, and the river around me had no hint of the blue water. No longer did I hear the clashing of swords, nor the shouts for a king that was lost. My men had retreated back away from the river, and watched the event transpire from a far. My death was destined at this point. The enemies around me sneer and shouted at me, some daring to come within sword's reach, to which I would weakly respond with a swing." Ethan turned his head to the ground this time, taking in the small knots in the wood of the floorboards, "I have no idea what possessed me, but Harmony started to glow golden in it's sheen, and I held it aloft, crying out 'I am your rightful King! You will obey me!'" Ethan laughed a little, reaching up to run a free hand through his hair, "I was laughed down by the men. They thought it was funny. What happened next stopped all merriment, however. A low rumbling could be heard, like the thousands hooves of horses trampling into the ground. From around the bend of the river came a mighty surge of water, threatening to envelop the ford and everyone who stood in it. The men around me fled, no longer concerned with their caged beast. Weakly, I tried to make my way back to bank, but it was obvious I wouldn't. I thrusted Harmony into the shallow water around me, clinging and hoping that somehow I wouldn't be carried away. Amazingly, I wasn't. The water pushed me, by I didn't budge." Ethan laughed, once more, "I could hear the screaming of thousands of men as they had been caught in the ford trying to escape, and were carried off down the river. When the flood had subsided, I stood, turning to look back at the enemy army that I had previously been facing. They had all turned and ran, running as far as they could." Ethan now smiled, finally looking up to look at his companions, "When my men returned, they treated me as a God. As for that, I have no idea why my family's sword glowed, but knowing where the dams were located upstream did not hurt to paint a picture of a king who commanded nature itself." Ethan now smiled, secretly hoping to himself that this story would turn things to a brighter mood across the trio.
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Astoria sighed. "If only we were aware of the times that many people functioned." The words were not said for the messenger's sake, but more for herself. They were not sad nor lamenting. No, they came out in a stunted, wooden manner. She would have liked to know when the Grand Marshal would visit, but had to live with the plausibility of 'any time.' It was a sad fate to be ready for the worst at all times.

She offered a polite half-curtsey for the messenger. He was not of noble enough stature to deserve one at all, but Astoria was feeling gracious. She watched his back disappear behind the wooden door before she returned to her papers. Occasionally her eyes would dart to the gray outsides through her window, and she would sigh. A cold would begin to nip her toes, and she would stoke the fire. There were no hand maidens or servants to do that for her, and so she had learned the ways to maneuver a smoldering log about to get it to flame.

Out of boredom, Astoria took to prancing about her office, swinging the fire iron about as if it was a cane or conducting baton. "Lord Devenshey," Astoria said to his imaginary form. "Your bill on taxes is ludicrous. Do you want to be staked in your own home and have your livelihood on fire? A 12% increase in taxes is the sort of thing to make sure that happens. The lower folk are as poor as you believe them to be, and then some. Instead of taxing the hardworking, why not tax those that have the extra finances to support it? Brothels, high-end taverns, and various other places of noble debauchery. A 12% taxes on them should even things out quite nicely."

That would get her in trouble, but why not? Astoria never made use of those places, and so didn't hurt from suggesting their taxation. When she drank, she drank alone. All the other crude mentionings in her speech were not a thing that she partook of. She was a noble maiden, and remained as such. Even if her demeanor screamed otherwise.

Astoria penned such thoughts immediately. She would not quell her dialogue for petty nobles such as Devenshy.
 
Lily's eyes pulled up from the table as Maria invited Ethan to join in their tales of woe. Her gaze floated to the king quizzically, curious as to how he would respond. The tale that followed was anything but sad. The story Ethan wove was worthy of a legend. The girl raised her head from the table, leaning forward as she listened with growing interest. Of course, she had no way of knowing if Lindwell was embellishing his story, but even if he was, the tale lost very little of it's bravado. The conclusion brought a smirk to her face. The tale of valiance was entertaining to be sure, but the use of the dams was something that brought a warm fuzzy feeling to the young thief's heart.


Lily raised her glass in the air with a grin, taking another great drink from the cup before placing the empty vessel on the table. "Now that's a story." She chuckled. She still didn't fully understand Ethan Lindwell, or Thomas Morgan. On one hand, he spoke with the conviction and heart of a king. On the other, he'd listed off a veritable mountain of sins that would make even the most hardened criminal shake his head in disapproval. Finally, he seemed to have a few characteristics that made even the enigma of a man seem human. She sighed, people were such complicated things.
 
Maria followed along, grateful that she retained the lucidity to do so. Lindwell's story was certainly a happy one from his own perspective. It was the kind of victory that people spoke of for at least a few years afterwards. A captain herself, she was interested in the incident. What exactly did they hope to accomplish with such a costly engagement? All of that bled away when his recounting turned to glowing swords and flash floods. An incredulous smirk crossed the drunken soldier's face as she listened to the fantasy. She'd been pretty sure the alcohol had hit her the hardest, but Ethan was changing that impression. The ending still left her feeling unsure about Harmony, but she was laughing at it. It was a good trick, something some leaders would have called dirty, but not her. Morgan's behavior painted a portrait of a man ruled by his ego, charging recklessly into fights, but in actuality he simply knew exactly how far he could push. The drink was doing its work, she was enjoying things she didn't. She held herself as her laughter slowly subsided, and brushed a tear from one eye. "Bet they remembered to check their maps after that," she said, holding on to her smirk.

Lily sighed next to her, and it was a reminder that things could be better. That was her job for the time being, or, more appropriately, it was all she could do. They were in good spirits, and had access to good spirits, but what would do them a better service was food. Vaguely, she remembered Ethan mentioning an empty pantry, and in truth he didn't seem like the kind of man who could cook. She could do some interesting things with rations but that was where her experience ended and she knew the culinary arts only in theory. It was a bit of an embarrassment, coming from from the food-loving southwest, but she was confident. The last time she had drank was months ago, and never in her life had she felt so inept under the drink. After fighting off the closing of her eyes one more time, she decided that she needed something to do. "Are either of you hungry?" She asked, looking between Ethan and Lily with a spark of hope in her eyes. "I know you don't have much around, Mister Lindwell, but I could try," she added, shrugging for effect.



---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


​
Alexander Wolcott was left staring at his door, contemplating as usual. A foreign dignitary had just stormed out of his office after reporting an arguably dangerous situation, to seek lodging alone. If anything went even remotely wrong, the fallout would absolutely be blown upon him or his office, one and the same. Where was Boyd? He needed Boyd to handle this sort of thing. The man was a paper pusher but Wolcott wasn't such an ignorant front-liner that he believed there was no room for such men in the world. As a matter of fact, he was arguably the more useful man on this strange battlefield he was told to call Lieda. To wit, his counterpart very rarely mishandled situations to the degree that young diplomats ran from his office. He threw his hands up, overturning the burden of his conscience and displaying his confusion to the empty room. A quick turn back to the desk revealed his worst fear. The gray light penetrating the curtains had slowly, imperceptibly, but not certainly become more and more gray. The entire building around him was probably in the process of retiring, it was too late to do much more than brood and write. He did have a few hundred more papers worth of dispatches to write, the lawful process of acquiring the manpower he needed, but... waiting a bit longer would prove advantageous. The more desperate the situation became the more likely the rest of the staff at Erschald were to accept their leader's plea for power. Leaving a large spread of papers on the desk for morning, Wolcott made ready to leave. It didn't take him long, he had no personal belongings in Lieda yet. Leaving the door closed behind him as gently as Gareth had done, he walked off down the empty corridors of the House. He had personal business at the Post to attend to, a veritable library of letters to send out.​
 
"You're not going to cook, Trinan. Out of the three of us, you are perhaps the most drunk." Ethan stated, bluntly, not taking anytime to respond to either's comments on the story he just told. The type of punishment he'd have to deal out if Maria messed up and burned her sword hand, or even caught something on fire, would not only be an embarrassment to her but to himself as well, "I do have quite a bit laying around, just nothing I could use." It then dawned on Ethan that he had promised a meal to Maria earlier that day, but had done little to make good on that promise. Ethan glanced over to Lily, wondering to himself if she could actually cook, "Lily can cook for you. And for herself if she wishes." Ethan stated, whom was hungry, but was going to abstain from eating. He had spent the last month practically feasting. He would switch back to the diet he had when he was a knight for the Order. One meal in the morning, and nothing else. A fond memory called to Ethan as he remembered a few choice words he had always said about eating; 'The lion hunts best on an empty stomach'. Maybe he could even lose the weight had had gained since his employment in the Thistle.
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: DrowsyPangolin
Lily's ears perked up at the mention of food. Her stomach growled like a wounded animal. She'd eaten a bit at the tavern earlier, but it'd done little to quell her hunger. She'd spent far longer than she would've liked on a ship during her voyage to Lieda. "I'm famished. Food would be lovely Mar-" She was cut off by Ethan's reply to Maria's request. She frowned, but the man was right. Maria was clearly quite drunk, perhaps cooking wasn't the best thing for her at the moment. The responsibility of cooking quickly fell upon her own shoulders. Her eyes grew wide for a moment. She had learned at least the basics of culinary arts. She'd had to. A horrible memory of stewing rodents crossed her mind, causing her to visibly gag. She shook her head. She'd worked with absolutely nothing before, so whatever ingredients Lindwell had on hand would be more than enough.


The girl hopped from her seat with a grin, seemingly unfazed by the large amount of alcohol she'd consumed. "Right, then. Uh..." She looked back and forth between Ethan and Maria. "A few things... Firstly... Where's the cupboard? And uh... what do we have?" She had convinced herself she could make something at least vaguely edible out of whatever it was that Ethan had around, but at the same time a general knowledge of what she was getting into would help tremendously. "Oh, and Maria, is there anything in particular that you want? Or don't?" She beamed towards the woman, again seemingly resisting the warm embrace of drunkenness.
 
Maria bristled, she would have reddened if her cheeks hadn't already been slightly flushed. It was one thing to be found puking her guts out in an alleyway, it was quite another to be told she was too drunk to cook. Somewhere deep inside, a voice informed her that it was entirely true, but it was something she needed to do to stay alert. That, and it sounded an awful lot like shirking her care off on Lily, which was absurd. She was an adult, and a soldier. "Hey," Maria said to start her protest, but quickly subsided. Everyone else seemed content with Ethan's orders, and that decided the matter. Defeated, she fell back in her chair, flustered and now searching for something to keep her tired mind occupied. Thoughts came difficult under the blanket of the alcohol. A question given by Lily's voice pulled out her out of the daze for a moment. "No, anything is fine," she said immediately. It would be easier if Lily had somewhere to start, she figured, but didn't even know what was at hand. "Make what you want. Something Esterlian?" She'd never been to the island, didn't figure the culinary culture was that far removed from something she already knew, but the prospect still interested her. It wasn't as if she ate much during her later time in Lachne, but the change coming to Arcartus was still one of the most jarring things about moving to the country. The weather and her own accent had been the other problems, but she at least got used to those. Simple, 'pure' food didn't sit well with her, a meal was something worth dressing up. Maria shrugged at the smiling girl, unsure what to tell her further and hoping Lily hadn't been counting on her.
 
Ethan, seeing that the both of them were in the process of figuring things out, turned and placed his cup upon the mantle of the fireplace. It was nearly time for Ethan to grab some rest, as he planned on waking before the sun in the morning. Without so much as a ceremonial goodbye, or a word, Ethan trudged up the staircase, quietly, making sure to grasp both handrails as he walked up. The man was drunk, but luckily he had experience with retaining composure while under the influence. Once at the top of the flight of stairs, Ethan saw a door to his left, and a door to his right. Opening the door to his right, the one that was his room, was a relieving sight. Just like the room across the hall, the bed was huge, with plenty of pillows, covers, and sheets. The room also possessed a few drawers, a closest, and a small washroom. Ethan sighed, and shut the door behind him, dutifully shedding his clothes and preparing to clean them, and then change into something much more comfortable.
 
Maria provided little in the way of advice, leaving the choice nearly entirely up to Lily's discretion. The suggestion of 'something Esterlian' however, set her mind to work. She had a bit of a moment of nostalgia, remembering her mother cooking for her when she was a very young child. Fish. She remembered a great deal of fish. Ethan answered none of her questions, evidently far too drunk, or perhaps just tired, to deal with the situation any further. She shrugged, walking into the pantry. She looked for a while, eventually finding what seemed to be salted trout. A gleaming smile crossed her face, and she audibly cheered from within the pantry. "Fish!" She set to work preparing the food, grabbing various other items from the pantry before heading into the kitchen. Watching the girl work was something to behold.


Eventually, a delicious smell began to drift throughout the house as Lily's first 'mission' neared it's completion. After a few more minutes, the girl returned to the table, carefully balancing two plates. She placed one in front of Maria, and the other at her own seat. "I hope you like fish. My mother used to cook seafood a lot when I was a little girl." She smiled. "Hopefully it turned out alright." The fruit of Lily's labor was a meal of baked trout, served with some of the few vegetables she had managed to find in the house. The girl snapped her fingers. "Right, silverware." She rushed back, returning after a few moments with the forgotten utensils. She took her seat, hoping her cooking skills hadn't gotten rusty. "Oh, if you want something to drink..." She realized Maria had probably drank far too much already. "Um... I do have some wine, though. If that's not to your liking Ethan might... probably... I'm sure there's something else here."
 
Maria's eyes slowly opened. She had dozed off, somewhere, thankfully for only a few seconds. As the room slowly came into focus, she looked about herself to find where her companions had gone off to. Ethan had disappeared entirely without preamble, he was probably off organizing his papers, but she remembered that Lily was off making food. That was what had woken her, the smell of fish cooking. It was a familiar scent, one of the few that colored the port district's atmosphere. She rarely had fish, but it was an inescapable presence around her home. Unfinished business. Her clothes, among other things, were still in that small room. Her sword of commission, she'd need that. Lily returned from the kitchen, putting down plates and silverware at the table. It was strangely civilized, considering their circumstances. At the sight of food her hunger made its presence known. The nagging feeling turned into painful emptiness in her midsection. "Thank you," she said, and pulled her chair closed to the table. Approaching the task cautiously, testing her own ability, Maria picked up a knife and fork and set to work on the fish. With a slowness forced more by her condition than any degree of politeness, she ate for the first time that day. It was far from the care she usually afforded herself, the body needed maintenance like any other weapon, but her world had changed entirely anyway. In the tumult, she'd forgotten what was actually dear. "I'm sorry," Maria said, setting her silverware down. "For earlier. I had a job to do, it's still not done." She shut herself up, unable to go further. It was too late to reconsider but there were things she could not admit even to herself. "Now we can talk, though. I can't believe it's been two years since then. You picked a bad time to show up. The country's cracking, I'm in the middle of this, and the weather," She sighed, it was supposed to be a joke but saying it only depressed her. It was the beginning of the snow, too. They'd be stuck like this for a while and she no longer had the luxury of a scout company's traveling. "Why did you agree? To join us, I mean. It's..." She withheld her judgment, putting a hand to her mouth and clearing her throat as if that was what bothered her. "It's dangerous," The soldier said with a somber voice, finding the replacement words hollow even as she said them.
 
Lily looked toward Maria quizzically as she began with an apology. The blonde girl nibbled at the bit of fish on the end of her fork, listening. She allowed the woman to finish entirely before speaking, sitting in silence and taking in what she had to say. As Maria finished, the blonde girl spoke up. "There's no need to apologize. Hell, I owe you as much of an apology for lying to you back then. Sorry about that. I imagine you see why I couldn't just throw the truth out. To be fair though, only a few bits were lies." She shook her head, getting to the more important matter. "I have a tendency to show up at the worst possible moment. It's a bit of a curse, to tell the truth, but..." She paused for a moment to take a bite of fish. Her voice seemed even less refined, if such a thing was possible, than it had before. In addition, her accent seemed more prevalent now. Apparently she'd been putting on a bit of a show for the would-be king.


"Truth be told, I joined you two because it seemed like something to do. Honestly, what else would I do? I could almost certainly work for some gang or other, commit some petty thievery that I could do with my eyes closed, and make enough to keep myself fed, but frankly I hate being bored." She giggled. "The danger is precisely why I'm here. With the life I've led, monotony is torture." Her eyes glanced to her plate for a moment before she spoke again. "Well, that, and it gets damn lonely living like this. It's nice to have a friend, you know?" She smiled at Maria, seemingly unfazed by the prospect of danger. "I'll give you the weather though. Don't care for the snow too much. I guess I can deal with it, though." She chuckled.
 
Maria frowned, listening to the woman across the table. To Lily, this was a matter of boredom. No, that was for the better. There was nothing if not entertainment in the future, she supposed, in the same way that places called execution entertaining. When the going got bad, Lily would get going, that was what smart people did and she expected nothing less from the thief. There was no such thing as dishonor here. She relaxed, cutting away another large chunk of fish and swallowing it. The very last shreds of her self respect stopped her from wolfing down the trout. She almost repeated her thanks to Lily, finding a little bit more of her clarity with every bite. It wasn't going to deaden the effect of the alcohol in her system, the poison that skewed her movements and made her feel stuck to the chair, but she already felt much better just for eating.

Lily's voice had changed when she started to talk about danger, she was letting the mask down, it seemed. Of course, she was doing the same. Lindwell had the air of a man who expected a very particular kind of behavior, for whatever reason each had, they were both keen on a delivering. That worried her somewhat, she wondered if Lily was telling her the entirety of why she had joined on. It didn't make sense for her to, she had secrets and no qualms with keeping them. Maria wasn't about to get offended over that, not when she sat in the same position most of her life. "Yeah," she said, looking at her fish. For a brief time, she had comrades, and when the call came she left them behind. Never again, she told herself, regarding Lily across the table. "At least you came dressed for it," she said, nodding towards the coat rack. "The winter gets rougher than this." She paused for food. "I'm glad you're here. If it was anyone else in that tavern we would still be looking... and I couldn't get by without someone here." It would have hurt to admit, but she was drunk enough to say such things and keep her meal down.
 
Lily continued eating, gingerly taking a bite from the trout every few moments as their conversation progressed. Her eyes floated back towards the stares every once in a while, making sure Lindwell had not returned. She didn't know if the man had went to sleep, or merely had other business to attend to, but she was mindful of what she said in front of him. Her eyes turned back to Maria, and she chuckled as Maria pointed out her choice in clothing. "I suppose I did. I've had that coat for years. It's been torn to pieces, really I should throw it away, but I can't seem to bring myself to." Her face darkened when Maria said the weather only worsened. "Worse than this?" She pouted before taking another bite of fish. "It'll take some getting used to, for sure."


Lily's head tilted slightly to the side as Maria continued. It seemed the woman wasn't too pleased with her current predicament. Lily leaned forward, bracing her chin against her hand. "I'm happy to be some company, but..." She tried to find the right words. "You don't sound like you want this. To be here, that is." Lily pondered on the subject, poking at the fish with her fork. "You know why I'm here, but I'm starting to wonder, Maria, why are you here?" Her voice held equal parts curiosity and sympathy.
 
Maria flinched, breaking away from Lily's eyes and looking for something on the table to look at. It was an answer she practically owed, but she wasn't sure if she herself was ready to hear it. Until she said it, it was just an idea, lurking off somewhere in her brain and silently governing her actions. Air her disgrace or confess her crimes? It was more than treason, she betrayed the flag and served her country. Trinan sighed deeply, lifting her eyes back towards Lily, finding every detail to hover over along the way, every excuse not to face her. You said it yourself. "You're right," she said, testing her words and getting a feel for what she was saying. Her diction, despite her drunkenness, remained brittle. "I didn't want this." Her eyes widened slightly, a grip she had never noticed around her throat suddenly fell away. It was too easy, it was almost worrying. Lily had already seen through her, she was only clearing doubts. Ethan hadn't been entirely fooled either, she was a poor liar, but the only person suitable for such an ugly task. "But my wants aren't important. Being here, doing this, is my purpose. I don't know for sure what I think, and my opinion of Lindwell doesn't matter in the end. Serving him will let me do good for others, more than I was." She lowered her head, exhausted. It was still only most of the truth. The rest of it would have to come later. There were chances she wasn't ready to take, and Lily had every right to hate her for what she was going to have to do. They were in the same boat, comrades for a time, but for all Lindwell's talking he had yet to show his true colors. His orders had yet to color the nature of their work, and their opinion of it was sure to differ. She bit her tongue, halting her admissions. "Sorry to say it that way. Don't worry about me yet," the girl smiled wide for show. "Things will work out for the better."
 
Lily frowned, a slight cloud forming over the girl's deep blue eyes. It seemed there was something more troubling the young woman across from. She didn't want to press forward, out of respect for Maria's privacy. Still, though, despite the woman's protest, she worried for her. She had no explanation for why. Combining their two meetings, they'd only known each other for roughly a day. Still, for whatever reason she felt sympathy for Maria's plight, whatever it was. Lily sighed. "Your commitment to doing good is... nice and all, but don't forget about yourself entirely." She bit into another forkful of fish. Of course a thief would encourage selfishness. She shook her head. Maybe she truly didn't understand the virtues of this world.


The Esterlian scratched her head. "Maybe you're right, though, maybe it will get better. I hope so at least." Her head bowed for a second as a tiny smile crossed her lips. She almost whispered the next words. "For your sake..." Where did those words even come from? A flood of visions rushed through her head, but she shook them off. "Whatever the case, you managed to pick me up, so at least you won't be going it alone." She grinned. "Remember what I said about honor among thieves."
 
The heavy footsteps of Ethan could be heard as soon as he took the first step onto the stairwell. He could hear the two conversing downstairs, and as he was still fairly drunk, he made a slow descent. Eventually, the king reached the bottom of the stares, the smell of fish in the air. Ethan wore a leather jerkin, with his same black pants from before. However, the jerkin's top two buttons were undone, and his feet were bare. Noticeably, still on his side, was the sheathed Harmony. Without so much as glancing at his two subjects, Ethan made his way to the couch, and took a seat. Still in his own silence, Ethan stared into the fire that laid before him, the crackling deafening in his own ears. Ethan seemed more zombie than man at that point, as if he was in some sort of daze. Slowly, the man leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he kept his stare on the fire. It was obvious he had no intention of further socializing with Maria or Lily at this point, content to allow them to continue their own conversation without his interruption, either because of his manners, or because he had no real interest. By this point in the night, the fire had begun to grow low, the ash sitting in heaps as the last of the logs burned. The last that Ethan had in his house, a matter of a fact. The man smiled slightly, a retribution for always wanting a fire to be roaring.
 
Maria kept up her happy demeanor, and in truth, she was starting to feel it. No, she wouldn't be going it alone, and that might have been the only thing truly keeping her going. She didn't want to go back to being some mopey shell completing tasks in order, no matter how prepared she had been to return to that life. The one favor she could owe herself, as Lily suggested, was continuing her recovery. Maybe one day she would indulge more than that, there were things in life she still wanted to do. Still, in a strange way, she enjoyed what she did. Not the parts of her work that called on her to betray her name and comrades, but the knowledge that what she did, somewhere, helped people. "I'd drink to that," she said, "but it might kill me." She laughed and sat back in her chair, but the expression quickly turned into a groan. Her head spun when it moved, the effects of the drink came and went in terrible waves. The soldier's discomfort was interrupted by the return of Ethan Lindwell. She heard his steps approaching vaguely, but paid them little mind. The words she was mindful of saying around him were already out. "Welcome back, Mister Lindwell," she said, acknowledging his arrival and watching the man wander over to the fireplace, apparently not seeking to be bothered.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Top Bottom
Back