Work Text:
A Family Name
“It is a Ganath Haros vintage that has a transparency on the tongue with distinct notes of orange and litchi. The crisp citrus aftertaste acts as a perfect palate cleanser after dinner, while the sweetness compliments dessert...”
Kisara eyed Dohalim from her seat next to him as he poured four glasses of white wine and rambled on about its qualities. She glanced across the table to Alphen and found him looking at her, already stifling a laugh. Alphen picked up his glass and inhaled through his nose in exaggeration. Catching her cue, Kisara asked, “To the nose?”
Alphen released his breath with flair. “White wine. And the taste?”
Kisara picked up her own glass and swallowed a larger gulp than was appropriate for a tasting. “White wine.”
They both laughed at themselves while Dohalim let out a huff. “Am I cursed to keep company with those of such unrefined taste?”
“I like it, Dohalim,” Shionne chimed in. “We just don’t need to break it down to the molecular level to enjoy it.” Alphen clanked his wine glass against hers in agreement before drinking from it again.
“Can I have a taste?” Rinwell asked. Shionne passed her glass to the mage seated next to her. Rinwell took a small sip. “Oh, that is sweet!”
Shionne motioned for Rinwell to return the glass to her, which Rinwell did with a sigh. “Is it really that good?” Law asked, nudging Rinwell with his foot underneath the table. She glared at him over the empty plates that covered the tabletop. “Genuine question!” he said in defense. Kisara wordlessly held her glass to him and he took a taste before handing it back. “Waaay too sweet.” Rinwell rolled her eyes and a curt ‘hoo!’ sounded from her hood.
It was a different kind of experience for all of them, sitting around a proper dinner table. When their battle was over, their division had been almost immediate. Alphen and Shionne sought solitude for a time, finally able to enjoy each other’s company with no mental or physical barriers; Dohalim traveled to Lenegis to share the difficult truths of the worlds to his people; Kisara returned to Viscint and brainstormed with Lagill as to how to best approach the new society; Rinwell busied herself with gathering information on the relics they had found in their travels; Law went to Calaglia to spend time with the Crimson Crows, to train and learn more about his parents. Much had changed since then, with their individual stories intermingling in new ways and certain people spending much more time together, but they had not all gathered in one place again since Alphen and Shionne’s wedding.
After their wine glasses were empted, Kisara began to rise up. “Don’t even think about cleaning those dishes,” Alphen said, stopping Kisara who was partway reaching for an empty plate. “The Imeris household rule is that whoever cooks doesn’t have to clean.”
Kisara slumped back into her seat. “Alright then, the dishes are all yours.” She had provided a variety of freshly caught fish that she and Dohalim prepared as a display of sashimi, nigiri, and maki rolls with crisp vegetables. Alphen began gathering up dishes while Shionne prepared a tub of soapy water to clean them. The kitchen was open to the dining space, so they all continued to chat as the dishes were washed and dried.
“Since when are you using Shionne’s last name?” Law asked, leaning his chair back precariously.
The married couple glanced at each other. Shionne passed a clean plate to her husband, who toweled it off and set it atop the other clean plates. “It happened, naturally, I guess?” he answered. “I never had a last name after all, and neither of us wanted to lose that part of Shionne’s history. In a way it honours the memory of Naori too.”
Law nodded, rocking his chair back and forth on its back legs. Kisara appeared on edge watching him from the corner of her eye, or perhaps she was restless from not participating in cleaning. “Go outside,” Shionne said. “We’re almost done here so we’ll be out in a minute.”
Eager to do something, Kisara accepted the suggestion and opened the door to the yard. With the door open, it was almost like an extension of the home’s interior, extending onto a sheltered patio area. The sun was still fairly high in the sky with few clouds present to cover it. There were no neighbours in sight, only grass and trees with scattered items like a fire pit, clothesline, training equipment, chairs... Kisara walked out and sat down on the edge of the wooden porch, letting her bare feet sink into the grass below. The others followed not far behind, with Law laying down in the grass and Dohalim sitting just next to Kisara. Rinwell remained in the shade of the house’s overhanging roof, settling in a crocheted chair that was suspended from the shelter’s wooden beams. The breeze brushed past them and through the still-open door to where Alphen and Shionne had begun putting away the cleaned dishes.
“It’s so peaceful here,” Rinwell commented as she twirled in her chair, the fabric winding together and then slowly unwinding to turn her back in the opposite direction.
“It’s feeling more and more peaceful everywhere, it seems,” Kisara said. “You know, many Dahnans have been choosing family names for themselves in Viscint. I think it’s because people are trusting that the equality and Dahnans and Renans is true. We had a headstart for thinking that way, in Menancia.” She leaned her shoulder against Dohalim and he responded by wrapping his arm around her waist.
Law leaned his head back to look towards his friends. “Have you thought of a last name for yourself, Kisara?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t plan on it. One might fall into place someday anyway...”
Two voices spoke together from behind the others, within the house: “Il Qaras.” Alphen and Shionne laughed at their unplanned synchronism.
“Well...yes.” Kisara eyed the man next to her and found him as nonchalant as always. He acknowledged her with a wink.
“I didn’t even know you two were a couple until Alphen and Shionne’s wedding,” Law said.
“That’s because you’re so dense,” Rinwell was quick to reply. “I kept telling you but you didn’t believe me until they got too drunk to hide it.”
“Were we really that obvious...?” Kisara asked quietly, more to herself than any of the others.
Dohalim shrugged. “Weddings are an occasion of ample drink. Perhaps our inhibitions suffered for it.”
“No perhaps,” Law said. “Definitely.” The younger friends snickered at the memory.
“Dessert’s served!” Shionne interrupted. In each of her hands was two glasses filled with layers of sponge cake, fruits, and whipped cream. Rinwell was the first to reach out and enthusiastically accept a parfait. Alphen followed Shionne outside with the last two dessert glasses in his hands, and sat down on a wicker couch not far from the porch. After Shionne delivered dessert to the others, she settled next to Alphen and accepted one of the parfaits from him. Her back pressed against his, a constant contact shared between them as they enjoyed dessert. Touch had become Shionne’s love language and it did not go unnoticed by the others, although they never teased her about it when they saw her keep a hand on Alphen’s arm, rest her head on his shoulder, or sit alongside him as she did now. After her long years of deprivation, they could let her have this.
Law sat upright to properly enjoy the treat, but paused as he noticed Rinwell’s glee while she savoured her parfait. She popped the spoon in her mouth let it linger, her feet making the hanging chair sway as she rolled them back and forth, a sort of restless delight. A slight warmness on his face, Law pushed himself up to stand. “How come you get the fun chair?”
“Hey, you had your chance!” Rinwell said in defense as Law walked over to her. “There’s no room - don’t you dare!” But he did dare, squeezing himself next to her in the chair. Hootle fled Rinwell’s hood as she was forced to readjust to make room for Law; the owl hovered overhead and voiced a barrage of protests.
“Don’t act like I inconvenienced you!” Law said to the owl.
“Never mind Hootle - you inconvenienced me!” Rinwell huffed, somehow finding the most comfortable way to sit was with her legs draped over Law’s. Hootle perched on a beam above them and glared.
Shionne and Alphen shared a glance, an unspoken shared thought passing between them. “Maybe we should get another of those chairs if it’s going to spark fights like this,” Alphen mused.
“It’s fine,” Law and Rinwell replied in unison. They each turned their attention to their parfaits, but the others noticed how Rinwell’s feet began to fidget happily.
Shionne let out a contemplative hum. “So how about you two? Any thoughts on taking a last name?”
“It’s not become common outside of Menancia yet,” Rinwell answered.
Law nodded. “Yeah, some of the Crimson Crows have talked about it but they’re the only ones I’ve heard bring it up. They want to choose a shared family name. No one can agree on one, though.” He ate his final spoonful of parfait and set the empty glass down on the ground. His now-liberated hands settled on Rinwell’s legs, causing the mage to blush. Her feet continued to waggle.
“It has been fascinating to note where individuals are finding inspiration for their names,” Dohalim said. “Some are choosing where they live, like De Menancia. Others are honouring their parents by adapting their given names into family names.”
“Maybe the Crimson Crows should use Zephyr for their name,” Rinwell suggested. She still clung to her empty parfait glass, not knowing where she would place her hands without it.
Law rubbed the back of his head. “I dunno, doesn’t that kind of feel like my mom is being ignored? I know Dad led the crew, but...” he trailed off.
“I’ve met people who choose their names based on work,” Kisara offered. “Forger, Brewer...”
“But what job title do revolutionaries have?” Shionne asked. “Rebel?”
“Law Rebel,” Alphen said. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “It’s kind of cool.”
Shionne narrowed her eyes. “It’s definitely not cool.”
“No no,” Law said, “I’m with Alphen. That one has potential to be cool.”
Three women’s voices objected: “It’s definitely not cool.” Law gave a sigh of resignation.
“Perhaps that naming approach would be better suited to Rinwell,” Dohalim said, circling the conversation back. He waved his free hand ponderously. “A reference to magic or astral energy.”
“Hmm.” Rinwell shook her head. “Of course I still practice astral artes, but at this point I’d call myself more of a historian or storyteller, and I don’t know that those work as names.”
Dohalim looked to her with an expression of exaggerated hurt. “So you have been writing, then? To think you would have betrayed your promise to allow me to read your prose...”
“It’s not ready yet!”
“Don’t tease her, Do,” Kisara chided. He smiled at her, a subtle acknowledgment that he had been caught in jest. It was true that he and Rinwell had once shared a conversation about her documenting the lore of Dahna and their personal stories, but he trusted her to share them when she was ready.
The shadow of the porch’s shelter stretched over them as the sun continued its descent. Shionne looked up at the sky, now shifting towards pink and orange hues. “Well the sun is officially setting and none of you are any closer to having a last name.” A rustling noise sounded from the porch’s ceiling as Hootle shook himself and puffed up his feathers. “Except Hootle, maybe. Hootle Owl.”
“That is his job,” Law agreed, “and where he’s from, and probably his parent’s name.”
Rinwell laughed, nodding her head. “That’s Hootle in a nutshell.” The owl fluttered down from his perch and sat on Rinwell’s shoulder. He flapped his wingspan and almost certainly deliberately hit Law’s face in the process. Law limited himself to glaring at Hootle in response.
“Should we start a campfire?” Alphen asked. “For old time’s sake.”
“I still don’t like camping,” Shionne remarked.
“We’ll go back inside to sleep,” Alphen said with a chuckle.
He stood up from his seat with the intention of motioning the others towards the fire pit, but he found himself stopping when he looked towards his friends. He noticed how Dohalim had moved his hand from Kisara’s waist to being entwined with her hand, his thumb tracing over her fingers with quiet affection; he noticed how Kisara’s eyes had closed as she rested against Dohalim; he noticed how Rinwell had finally set down her dessert glass and let her hands settle over Law’s arms, still atop her legs; he noticed how Law huffed at Hootle for blocking his view of Rinwell; he noticed how Shionne had let her posture relax as the day went on, the tension of being a proper host forgotten in the company of those she held dear.
As Alphen noticed these things, he thought of how Rinwell had said it was so peaceful there. It was a comment on the location, he knew, but the peace he saw in his friends made it all the more true. “You know, if you can’t decide on a name, then you’re all welcome to be a part of the Imeris family.”
Shionne smiled up at Alphen. Law and Rinwell each leaned forward a bit to peer around Hootle and gauge each other’s reactions, only to find the other looking just as curious. Kisara opened her eyes and looked up at Dohalim, knowing that he would have something to say...
“I already have a family name, you know.”
“I knew you’d ruin it,” Kisara sighed as soon as the words were out of Dohalim’s mouth. The others laughed, the spell of peace broken but the overarching sentiment remaining.
Shared name or not, they all knew they were family.