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26 Sydenstar, Late evening, Bloated Puffin
Kismet
Kismet paces. It's become a habit the past few days, pacing in his room or through the quiet city streets in the early hours, then trancing the rest of the time. He paces his room, plans for the jailbreak bouncing around his mind, the consequences of failure. Every now and then he stops, looks at his hat hung on the wall. Reaches out to touch the raven feathers.
Two in his hat. Six on his back. How many more is he willing to collect? How many reminders can he take?
He clutches his hand into a fist. It shakes, white knuckled, tendons standing up. Fear, visceral and cold. But fate has laid the path before him. With a steadying breath, he exits his room, locking the door behind. He strides the few doors down, and knocks softly on Florian and Valac's door.
Valac
An uncertain knock on the door takes him out of his reverie. Valac doesn't need to ask who it is to know, having heard the same soft metallic pang earlier today. Still, he rises, and with a few confident steps opens the door.
And pauses. He knew it was Kismet, and it's still the same as the morning, there's too many images in his head.
"You don't need to knock, you know", he forces himself out of his stupor.
Kismet
He clears his throat, twisting the ring on his finger. Well, he's here. Too many times he's run in cowardice or shame, and perhaps there'll be many more times. But there's one person here he can be sure would understand. At least, if the conclusions he's drawn are correct.
"I, uh." He keeps his voice low. It isn't too late, but he doesn't wish to wake Florian. "I find midnight strolls under the stars clears my head. I don't know if that's what you need but I certainly could use one. And I had something to ask. If...if you want." He shakes his head.
It's a strange request. Too strange. He almost begins to turn away, but holds his ground.
Valac
He carefully considers the words. A midnight stroll and talk of stars - he's heard that before, but Kismet was piss drunk back then. Now he seems perhaps too sober for whatever he's asking, if the nervous fidgeting and inability to hold eye contact are any indication.
Valac turns to cast one last sidelong glance at the room before slipping out and closing the door behind him.
"My my, if I didn't know any better I'd say this sounds almost like a date", he grins, both hands still at the handle behind him. "Lead the way then, and speak your mind."
Kismet
He stops his nervous fidgeting to fold his arms and cast an exasperated look up at the tiefling. "There's no wine and no picnic, and no date. Sorry to disappoint." But he smiles a little. As irritating as Valac's endless ribbing can be it's a sense of normalcy that settles him.
"It's not that far. I found it on my third night in Rexxentrum." He gestures with a nod, and leads the way downstairs and out the door, keeping silent for the most part.
The streets are quieter than he'd seen them earlier in the week at this time of day. Most folk seem to have retreated indoors at the first sign of dusk. With quick strides he ducks down alleys and through the winding streets of the Tangles, the only light a sliver of moon and the splashes of orange from the townhouses pressed together. The road climbs gradually upward, but the view of the city proper is blocked by high walls and small apartments. He keeps his chatter unimportant and light, mostly filling in the time.
They come to a small garden up a rise, tucked behind a cobbler and a few single story buildings. It's overgrown and wild, the trees attempting to burst through the stone wall that pens it in. Inside stands a large gazebo with a domed roof, tall enough on its little hill that it peeks over the garden wall.
He starts walking to the back, where an old column has tipped over, providing a precarious but convenient ramp to the top.
"Well, think your heels can manage it?" He clambers onto the fallen column and begins scooting up, keeping an eye on Valac to see if he follows.
Valac
"Ah, what a shame. I would've liked my possibly last night as a free man in Rexxentrum to have been spent drinking wine in the moonlight", he chuckles, simply pulling Kismet's tail.
After a short stroll, they reach an overgrown gazebo that almost shines under the moon. Valac tilts his head in wonder, convinced he's passed this road many times before and never seen it until now. Then Kismet leads him around and reveals a fallen column, just convenient enough to climb on the dome.
Something clutches at him. This is... oddly reminiscent of Asarius. He sighs, pushing useless memories away, and follows the elf up. Keeping in mind that last time taking off his shoes did the opposite of help, he leaves them on, and is surprised to find that he has no trouble at all keeping up-
His right heel catches on a dent in the column, and the stone shatters off, slipping his foot.
In a blur, he slides to the side, nails looking for any sort of purchase but only screeching on solid stone. Kismet for his part immediately turns around and extends an arm towards him, and he flails his own, neatly missing, sliding a few more inches down. And when Kismet leans forward to try again... both of them slip.
They have exactly three seconds until they unceremoniously hit the grond.
Through gritted teeth, he speaks, and finds himself on top of the dome in the blink of an eye, not even giving himself enough time to check if his feet are solid planted on the roof before he clutches the newly purchased clay hand and extends it towards Kismet. Were it not for the moonlight, the arm that raises from the ground would be completely obscured. Pure black, inky fingers illuminated only on their sides envelop Kismet before he flattens, and safely bring him up to the top of the gazebo. It strains him more to only hold him; Valac is fully aware that if anything breaks his concentration right now the hand would crush the elf.
When Kismet's feet touch solid surface, he slowly lets go. His own hand flies to his mouth to stifle his laughter. (edited)
Kismet
Kismet's heart thuds in his chest, his face pulled into a grimace of fear so tight he couldn't get a yelp out if he tried. Valac has a fair few tricks up his sleeve, it would seem. Being snatched from the air by what felt like a cold hand was jarring, but it kept him from landing headfirst onto the marble tile below. Standing on the dilapidated dome of the gazebo, it takes a moment for Kismet to even his breathing and ease himself to a sitting position.
And Valac is barely containing his laughter.
Kismet puts his head in his hands, and his shoulders shake with stifled chuckles, a mixture of fear and disbelief fueling it.
"Matron. We nearly cracked our heads open just for a view," he says.
And it is quite a view. The sky is a spread of stars, open and endless above. After spending so many years beneath dense tree canopies, he's come to enjoy the night sky even more after leaving Bysaes Tyl. The city streets cluster and web outward, butting up against the city wall. From there, patchwork fields form a blanket that stretches all the way to the distant Erdeloch. There's distant sounds of subdued taverns and hooves ringing out on cobblestone, but for the most part its quiet.
He tucks his knees to his chin, folding his arms around. "I've come here a lot. Something about the stars on the lake, it calms me. Clears my head." He grits his teeth. "Normally it would calm me. But tomorrow..."
A dungeon. A cell, where they were to rescue a drow from what is most likely to be torture and interrogation.
"I suppose I need some reassurance." He chuckles drily at that, remembering the day Valac brought back his hat. "Well, if not that, perhaps you could tell me if your...ah...previous jailbreak experience might help?"
Valac
As laughter dies down, Valac finds himself on the odd end of reassurance again. There's little he can do but regret ever opening a part of himself for these people, all on a whim, when they'll inevitably turn on him. He knows none of them want what he wants, and that is as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. Still, he sighs, too tired of playing this game with himself, and leans on his side to face Kismet.
It's so foolish, it's so damn foolish that he's doing this again.
But speak of his past exploits he can.
"My last jailbreak experience you mean", he winks, even if the elf is not looking at him. "That was due to no part of my own, I'm afraid, as Asriel simply bought our way out. You know, looking at him, you can't exactly say he's the type of person to carry 50 gold as spare change around, and yet."
He's quiet for a while, contemplating how much he should reveal.
"I don't know how we actually met, but he, Agatha and I apparently stole Savas's book from the Black Diamonds, then got caught and promptly thrown to jail. None of us remember much before the cell, so I guess I'm just confused as to why I chose to trust them within a day of meeting, when I can barely stand to be in the same room as them now."
He stops himself and turns to the skies. This is no longer reminiscent, this is exactly like Asarius. Warm nights and clear skies on rooftops, when the hassle of the streets below has all but died down. Away from fear and expectation.
"But I guess that's not what you asked. You and Florian are both concerned about tomorrow", not a question, an observation. "I don't think I am - we have a plan, we have a backup, we have a good set of skills between us. I've… often found myself on the other side of the law, and I've made it out alone. Well, petty theft and crime are arguably not as… severe and high-profile as what, being a war prisoner? But nonetheless, I'd rather focus on what I know is possible. And dealing with a couple of guards and teleporting out is very possible."
Kismet
Ah. Paying ones way out is certainly the way to go. Being caught for treason surely has no way out. He throws Valac a puzzled glance at the mention of the three of them stealing a book and not remembering it.
“You can’t remember that entire day? I will admit the idea of you, Asriel, and Agatha of all people working in tandem to steal a book is probably one of the funnier things I’ve heard in my life.” He smirks, the tip of his fang showing. “Must have been against your will.”
He stretches his legs out, leaning back on his hands, and tips his head back to take in a full view of the stars. “I am worried about Florian. I don’t think they’re the kind of person to speak up if everyone else is going along with a plan and he’s the one to object.” He glances at Valac. “I know he can take care of himself in a fight. I don’t know where exactly he’s from, but it’s clear he misses his brother and family. He’s one of us that does not deserve to be locked away.”
His heart picks up, beating a strong rhythm against his sternum. He’s sure Valac can hear it. How does he go about this? How is one supposed to be vulnerable, when the reason for it is pure self-preservation?
He takes a breath. “You told me you care about freedom above all other things. As addled with drink as my mind was, that stuck with me. I don’t know if I can trust anyone, but at least in that regard, I am fairly certain you can understand.”
His hands begin to shake. “I can’t go back in the dark.”
Valac
There's a pause before Kismet speaks next, and that time is just enough to build up the sense of impending doom that hits when he does.
Valac feels his breaths become quicker and his hands shake, and is fairly certain the elf can tell as well. Once again, he looks behind his shoulder, as if they'd just be there, somehow crept unseen through the night to reach this one particular gazebo in the capital of the Empire. Yet he doesn't get the same urge to run and hide as he had before, even with Arabella a couple of days ago. Weirdly enough, maybe having seen Kismet go along with his ridiculous dares, especially in the way he did, had done something.
"Well... as you can probably see, I'd also prefer not to do that, I think", he chokes out and clears his throat when the words don't immediately come. "Ugh, remind me next time that you apparently need more wine to lose your ability to retain information", he mumbles behind his palms.
Well, cat was out of the bag now, he absolutely did say that. And Florian - they could take care of themselves on their own, just as they had so far. He had to convince himself that.
"If Florian is opposed, he may not say it in front of everyone, but he will say something to me or Agatha," he only half-believed it, but it was enough. "As for going back to...", he studied Kismet's face. He couldn't tell his true meaning, and he couldn't force it out like he did with targets. "Tell me, are you talking about a holding cell particularly?"
Kismet
Valac’s reaction is visceral. He glances over his shoulder, eyes darting. Kismet knows that look so well. Too well. His heart sinks at the recognition. But he knows now Valac would fight tooth and nail to get away, to get what he wants. Kismet needs that kind of ferocity, especially tomorrow.
A blush crawls over his cheeks at the mention of wine and that evening, and he’s thankful for the dark to hide the colour at least. He clears his throat, unsure how much Valac himself remembered. Probably everything. Matron below…
His reassurance about Florian eases his concern somewhat. And then Valac mentions a holding cell.
Once again, he curls in on himself, his pulse pounding in his ears. He can almost smell the coppery tang of blood, can almost taste it on his tongue. It threatens to overwhelm him, the darkness and the smells and the chafe of iron around his ankles—
He breathes deep, watches the moonlight split and dapple over the lake. Forces himself to look at Valac, to see him, and not the void that threatens to eat away at the corners of his mind.
His voice shakes, but he presses onward. “I need to know there’ll be someone who can snap me out of it if we go in there and I…” He swallows, mouth dry. “A holding cell is a light word for where I was. I’m worried that when we get down there, whatever we see, it’ll pull me back.” He looks at his hands, wringing them together. “I can’t afford to lose my nerve. Not with so much on the line. Not with so many people to keep safe.”
Valac
He's looking for something else, but instead notices color overwhelm Kismet's cheeks at the mention of wine, and he can't help but smile.
"First of all, don't you blush at me, or I'll make a joke we'll both regret. And second of all", he chuckles and turns to the stars again, voice quieter this time, "Do you think they'd do the same for you, or are you just willing to put your life on the line for anyone?"
It comes out harsher than he expects to, but he can't take it back now, and it's what he really wonders anyway. And can't help but doubt anyone who claims to offer help altruistically, especially to him.
But still, when he listens to Kismet describe the shackles of his past, he feels calm. It's easier when someone else talks about it.
"And I can, snap you out I mean. I can also physically get you out if you can't yourself, which is more likely, unless you tell me exactly what snaps you out", his voice is finally level when he speaks, even as he sees his own hands crawl on dirt roads, a haze like crown of thorns upon him. (edited)
Kismet
Valac’s question takes him by surprise. Of course he puts himself on the line. He has to protect, he has to. He’s seen the consequences himself of failure. But the words pierce something inside him, a kind of voice he’s been afraid to look directly at.
You do it for yourself. You do everything for yourself.
He clutches his arms tighter around his torso. “I don’t know if they’d do the same for me. I don’t think it matters. Perhaps I’m just a coward, running at the first sign of pain. And if I can protect them, I can keep that pain from spreading.”
He’s not talking a lot of sense and he knows it. At Valac’s offer, he grows quiet for a moment, listening to the distant hum of the city. Trying to breathe in the fragrance from the flowers below.
“I don’t know how to. I don’t know what works.” He scrubs at his cheek. Annoying. You’re being annoying. “There’s never been anyone to…” He takes a deep, calming breath. “I think touch helps. Something grounding, something so apart from…blood and dirt.”
A fuzzy memory, a tail wrapped around a leg.
“If you need the same, tell me.” He looks Valac in the eye. “Trust is a hard thing to build. And I know it shouldn’t be motivated by fear or self-preservation, but…” He presses his lips together. What is he even saying anymore.
Valac
Valac cocks an eyebrow at Kismet.
"Hm, is that how you think it is? Cause the way I see it, you run headfirst into danger."
He leans his head on his hand and studies Kismet, expression impassive. There's never been anyone to...He doesn't need to finish that sentence. It's familiar.
"If you're a coward, remind me again who fell in the outpost fight because they made themselves too lucrative a target. If you're a coward, then who went and got themselves punched by Asriel not once, but twice in a row. You might be a fool but a coward?"
Silence overtakes him as memories of a dark alleyway come rushing, a weak, sickly figure trembling in the shadows. It's cornered and dangerous. The image clears and it's not him, and it's not weak. He's standing in front of it this time.
"Your hat," he points at it, "Was with him the other day. You went to heal him, after everything."
Kismet
A fool? Yes, that sounds right. He's heard that one before. He almost laughs at how easily Valac can read him. It's dangerous, he knows that. Everything about the past week has been dangerous.
Valac mentions his hat, and he suddenly feels like a child caught stealing something from the kitchen. Valac didn't stumble upon the hat in an alley. He found it with Asriel. His eyes widen, and he shifts around, facing the tiefling instead of the view.
"I hadn't intended to. I was getting some things for Florian to help him sleep, and he was just there, in the alley. He was sick. Still." He frowns, cocks his head. "He had it on him?"
It doesn't really add up. He had every intention of leaving Asriel alone, especially after that day. The memory of the flames wreathing his hand still fresh in Kismet's mind. He doesn't like it, the way Asriel seems like one person one moment and somewhere else the next. It worries him.
He shakes his head, leaning forward on his palm. "Hold on. You took it from Asriel? Why?"
Valac
“He was holding it, yes. Imagine if he was wearing it”, he can’t help but laugh at the image. “I- I don’t know why I took it. He might have intended to return it himself.”
Valac glances at Kismet, whose full attention is on him. He wants to tell him, and the urge to bite his tongue is only present out of instinct. But he wants to tell him, he recognises that. What in the name of the Luxon is he doing right now? He throws another look behind his shoulder and immediately flinches when he catches himself doing it. This feels dangerous, and the tremble in his hands returns.
“I was angry. From before, I mean. When I saw your hat there, it only added fuel to the fire,” his eyes gloss over, overwhelmed. “He didn’t even do anything, he was just standing there, but it felt-“, his voice breaks and he shakes his head, forcing himself out of it. He can’t. It’s too early, too quick, it’s dangerous.
“In any case, that’s unimportant now. Touch I can do, and you also don’t seem to mind it”, a sly grin returns on his face, a feeble attempt at deflection. “Don’t do the same in return though. If it ever comes to it, just run.”
Kismet
Valac speaks of anger. Of not knowing why he took it. Of becoming incensed upon seeing Kismet's hat with Asriel. His voice catches in his throat, holding something back. And once more he looks behind him. Kismet's eyes involuntarily follow, but there's nothing there. The old stone of the gazebo scrapes against his knuckles as he clenches his fist where he leans on it. He keeps his gaze locked with Valac's.
At his last words, Kismet can't help a blush crawl up his neck, through the haze of a drunken night he remembers Valac's nails on his jaw. The full effect of Valac's deflection is dampened somewhat by his tone, and the seriousness that preceded it. He dislikes it when people probe at him. It would be hypocritical to do the same.
Kismet sighs, reclining fully with his hands tucked behind his head. From this angle he has almost a full view of the stars, framed by a few trees. "Are you prepared for Nicodranas? I've never been. Everyone keeps talking about the beach." He wrinkles his nose. "The only one I've seen is in Bysaes Tyl, and it's more stony cliffside and freezing waters."
Valac
He squeezes his eyes shut as soon as Kismet leans back. It's funny in an ironic way, how the elf tries to switch to safer topics but it pains Valac all the same.
“I’ve… never been to the sea. Never seen it. I don’t know how I’ll feel about it”, this time, his voice doesn’t betray him, and leaves no room for doubt, even if he has a pretty strong suspicion how he’ll feel about it.
“I might just stay back with the drow, I doubt they’ll like the sun all that much.”
You’re stalling and it’s obvious. Change the topic. He lies down as well, and breathes out. Nicodranas. There’s one thing he knows about Nicodranas. Lada got defensive anytime someone spoke of the Ruby of the Sea around her. She praised her, but it was obvious play pretend, so Valac was convinced she envied her deeply. He was also convinced there was a good reason for her envy.
“The Ruby of the Sea is in Nicodranas - if we have the time, I’d like to hear her sing," he smiles at the skies. "Might not be able to afford anything else sadly, but at least that."
Kismet
So Valac hasn't seen the ocean. It relieves him a little--he was worried he'd be the only one unsure of what to do.
"You and I both, then. I've heard the coast is warm, another thing I'm not used to." He folds one leg over the other as he's lying there. A cloud or two shifts across the sky, obscuring Catha for a moment. "I wonder if they'll be safe there. As they are. The Menagerie Coast is neutral, after all."
He hasn't heard of the Ruby. A singer? And an expensive one by the sound of it. "Well, you did hand over your share of the pay to me." He fishes out the coinpurse he purchased a few days ago and holds it up, the gold chiming merrily. In the moonlight he can just make out the beginnings of the embroidery he's been working on. "Though I suppose we ought to save it for healing potions and what have you."
He places the coinpurse on his chest, examining the stitches from his efforts the night before. The flowers he began with look a bit crooked. Perhaps he should start again.
"And after? Most of us had just arrived in Rexxentrum before we met. I have unfinished business here. Or...unstarted." He risks a sidelong glance at Valac. "Will you be coming back?"
Valac
He thought it over. If, no, when they got them out. There was no other option. When they got them out, they’d probably want to return to Rosohna, and that’s where Valac drew the line.
“Ah, I suppose that coin is better spent on potions than a courtesan indeed,” he says as he watches Kismet fiddle with the coinpurse. This was… an impulsive and risky decision, and he once again had no explanation for it. There was no alcohol this time to excuse his behaviour, but somehow he suspected he’ll feel all the same tomorrow. Like hungover induced regret.
He averts his gaze when Kismet glances at him.
“I have unfinished business here indeed, so I’d like to return if possible. Hopefully it’s possible. It has to be”, his face falls briefly. “I’ll just consider this a small vacation.”
Kismet
Kismet’s brow crinkles at Valac’s mention of going back. How he hopes they can make it back. There’s something that draws him to Rexxentrum, just as it does for Kismet.
Then he backtracks in the conversation.
He flips over onto his side, propped up on one elbow, nearly dropping the coin purse. “The Ruby is a courtesan?” He stares for a while, until he realises he’s doing it, then flops onto his back, tucking the coin purse away. “I can see why truth or dare was so fun for you.”
And he got on his knees.
With a heavy clap, he slaps both his hands on his face, trying in vain to hide his blush. “You must have thought all my attempts to unsettle you so quaint! You’re a professional!”
He drags his fingers down his face, keeping his eyes to the sky. That explains Valac’s elegance, and ease of conversation.
Valac
Wide eyed, Valac watches Kismet collapse on his own embarrassment, palms doing nothing to hide that blush that spreads on his entire face. Of all the possible reactions, this one he expected the least. Quaint attempts??? He laughs out loud just processing the words.
"Need I remind you that you were the one who suggested truth or dare?", he teases and sits up.
Kismet was… a very silly man.
"And professional or not", he starts quietly, if a bit elated, and leans towards the elf. He can't help but smile when he goes to prop one hand on each side of Kismet's shoulders, and finds himself hovering above him. "I thought your attempts were very effective."
Without warning, he moves his leg over Kismet's body as well, and just as quickly transfers the other, so that he's now on the elf's opposite side, not even having brushed against him. From there, he innocently goes for the collapsed column - their way back down.
"Well? Wanna go for a quick walk before we head back? Perhaps you can tell me how long you intend to stay in Rexxentrum while we're at it", he speaks energetically as he starts climbing down. While the slight shake in his hands remains, he can tell this time the worst is over, and it barely resurfaced at all.
Kismet
Kismet keeps his hands locked on his face, and his eyes on the moon, and attempts to recover from what just transpired.
No. Nope. There are no thoughts clanging around in that big empty bald skull of his. Just a high-pitched whine in his ears and the sounds of Valac descending the column.
After what might have been two seconds or an hour, he props himself up to sitting, and sees Valac waiting at the bottom of the gazebo. Kismet just holds up a finger, mouth open for a retort, then thinks better of it. Instead, he speaks the verbal components for Guidance and works in a rude gesture to the somatic part, then makes his way down.
He rejoins the Tiefling and walks stiffly onward, leading the way back. “Once we get back—and we will—I’ll be staying as long as it takes for me to find another lead for the business I’m attending to.”
He grows sombre for a moment as they pass by small houses, most of which have snuffed all the lamps for the night. “It…it’s certainly been reassuring having a group of competent people surrounding me. It feels like any situation we go into, we have that much higher a chance of succeeding. Even tomorrow, despite my trepidation.”
Still unable to look Valac in the eye, he stares ahead, but addresses the tiefling. “And you? How long do you plan on staying in Rexxentrum when we return?”
Valac
To his credit, Kismet stays quiet, unless you count the vulgar casting.
"Ah, I'll use those next time I catch you when you fall!", Valac shouts from down below.
Kismet finally descends and moves past Valac without even sparing him a glance, obviously fuming and still red in the face. He almost starts tripping after him when he sees the awkwardness in his shoulders. Light, this was endlessly entertaining, and if it could pull him out of those thoughts-
As they pass by quiet streets, almost nothing but the sound of heels on cobblestone accompanying them, the elf mentions plans for the future and their current group. Valac frowns, thinking his words over. There were definite advantages to moving in a group, even if it hasn't exactly been all smooth sailing for them. Still, even if a group was a bigger threat overall, an individual within a group was a smaller target than one working alone.
He considers Kismet's words carefully, trying to gauge if he's willing to talk about it or answering out of courtesy, but the elf avoids his eyes.
"Is that business open to the public or do you prefer to keep your secrets?", he finally asks. "As for me, I... just moved here some months ago, permanently - used to live in Zadash before. So I'm not really planning on going away."
Kismet
“Empire born and raised, hm?” he notes offhand. “This business we’ve got ourselves into must be a little conflicting for you.”
He doesn’t expect an elaboration. For a few more paces he chews his lip, weighing out how much to reveal of his intentions. If there’s one thing he’s certain of, he can’t do this alone. His poor attempts at the archives showed him as much. The others held no obligation to help him—in fact, he’d intended on keeping it to himself for as long as possible.
Until he saw Kaulmyn, and it almost disgusted him how much he saw of himself in the drow. Kaul, who surrounded himself with friends and reached out with apparent trust to those who could hurt him most, all to find his brother. It was almost a slap in the face. Like looking in a mirror, and having the reflection say, ‘See? Look how far you could’ve come if only you’d tried.’
“I don’t expect help. I don’t expect anything, actually.” He stops in the narrow street, and for the first time since the gazebo looks Valac directly in the eyes.
“I’m looking for my sister.”
Valac
"Empire born and raised…", he trails off as his eyebrows furrow. Surely Kismet has heard him speak his native tongue? What was he playing at, some kind of test? "Kismet, do you speak Underco-"
He is cut short, mouth hanging open, when the elf reveals a sister. A sister. He stops dead in his tracks, following suit after Kismet. What was it with fate and her twisted sense of humor again, with Kismet and Florian both travelling the continent in search of their blood, and the near suicide mission tomorrow to help someone who's willing to be thrown under Assembly fingers for their brother. And here Valac was. Alone.
No one ever fucking came for him. Were they in on it? Did they plan it together with mamá? Did Morana suggest it??? He feels bile rise up in his throat, eyes stinging, and grits his teeth.
Inappropriate. It would be extremely inappropriate to blow up in Kismet's unsuspecting face. So he takes a subdued breath, face contorting in a smile.
"I hope you find her. Judging by the way Kaulmyn worries over his brother, I can only imagine what you feel, especially around a parallel like that."
He stops for a moment. What was he supposed to say next, that he'll help? Would it even matter, would he even have the heart to reunite two siblings in a row?
"I don't know if we'll stay together after this but…", his voice dies down, unsure where he's going with it. "Perhaps we're brought together for a reason."
Kismet
"A parallel?" His face grows hot and just about pulls into a sneer, something he hasn't felt in a long time. He takes a breath. Another. Lowers his voice to a harsh whisper. "No. Not parallels. Far, far from it. Trust me, you can tell when both siblings give a shit."
He starts walking again, if only to move, to release some of the energy at finally speaking the words aloud. Just thinking about her again turns his stomach with anxiety and confusion, regret and pain. This is why he's kept quiet. Siblings are supposed to be there for each other. To grow close, to ignore all bonds but blood. But Zhuthra...
Heart pounding, he considers Valac's last words, and it settles him somewhat. He sighs, already regretting his outburst. "You're right, Valac. Fate has woven us together. I don't know why yet, but there's something we're made for. Something we've got to do." He clutches his amulet, hard. "Something I can help with."
Valac
You can tell when both siblings give a shit.
Oh he can, firsthand. His own shoulders visibly relax. He didn’t even mean to pry that information out of Kismet, so now it feels like he would be pushing his luck if he tried for more. Instead, he just nods, no remorse in the fact that the elf’s disdain actually made him feel better.
And perhaps he tucks away the thoughts of how attractive Kismet looked just now for another, better day. More important things to worry over now.
Something we’re made for. Valac falls behind him again, both palms flying up to cover his face. Light, why was all of this so familiar? His jaw is completely locked in place, try as he might to mumble about laying bloodied on the ground and knowing he’s meant for something better than this.
Silence overtakes them, until he sees the familiar glow of the Puffin ahead.
“Well… we’re here.”
Kismet
Kismet places his fingers on the handle to the tavern, then pauses, speaking more to the wood of the door than to the tiefling. "Thank you, Valac. For listening. As much as I ramble about nothing it's much better when there's someone there to hear it."
He pushes into the tavern, leads the way across the bar. There aren't many patrons around, and the ones that are present are subdued. Over his shoulder, he says, "I just need to drop something off for Florian, then I'll leave you be."
Up the stairs, and to their room. He knocks lightly on the door then pushes it open. The fort is still there, and despite a decent tear in the sheets it's holding up well. He leaves the door open for Valac behind him.
"Florian?" he whispers. "Are you awake?"
Florian
Florian had been sitting up in the fort, rereading one of his books, while Kismet and Valac were out. He was aware that they were both adults and wouldn't get lost or anything like that, but he also knew that he'd sleep easier knowing they were back safe first. So, they sat up in the pillow fort - rereading their favourite parts of Tusk Love.
The room door opened, Florian stayed silent knowing that he wasn't visible to anyone. They sat, waiting for an indication of who walked in.
"Florian?" A whisper? "Are you awake?"
They immediately recognized it as Kismet's voice. Flori closed the book - he didn't need a book mark as there were already small scraps of paper noting the pages they wanted to read. He placed it down, then began to crawl up to the entrance of the fort.
Flori comically poked his head out from behind a blanket and looked at Kismet. "Hey Kis! Did you have a nice walk?" They spoke in a lighthearted, but clearly drowsy tone. "Do you want to come in?"
Valac
Valac couldn’t help but chuckle at getting thanked for listening, when he did it for free for the first time since… it was hard to remember since when.
“Or you could stay”, he throws a toothy grin at Kismet’s neck, tail lashing side to side, and fully aware that he’ll be ignored.
Pleased to find the room empty safe for Florian, he sneaks inside the pillow fort where the half-elf had apparently been reading romance again. Ah, Tusk Love, a classic.
Kismet
Kismet laughs lightly as Florian sticks his head out of the fort. "All right. At least for a few minutes." He throws a long-suffering glance at Valac who had suggested he should stay.
No, he needs to prepare. Meditate. Really listen for the Raven Queen, so he can heed her warnings instead of rushing blindly in.
He ducks in after Florian, settles into an empty spot. "Well, the other night was a blur for me, but I do remember you mentioned your birthday had just passed, so..."
Suddenly he's nervous. It's a little presumptuous to make a present for someone you've really only just met, but...it's been a long time since he's had the opportunity to make a gift for anyone.
"I hope you don't mind. And you can just throw it away if you like, it won't bother me. It didn't take a very long time to make."
From his pouch he pulls out what looks like an embroidered bracelet and holds it in his palm. It's mostly plain white, with accents of purple and blue. Along it are glass beads woven in, a few he managed to find in the market. They are a green reminiscent of the earrings Florian wears, dotted with paint that somewhat resembles flowers.
"I noticed you like to fidget or need to do something with your hands when you're nervous or just overwhelmed. So look here--"
He presses on one of the beads, and it pops through to the other side after a bit of pressure. Flips over the bracelet, pops it back.
"I don't know if you'll find that useful. It also would make a nice hairtie if it doesn't work for you."
He holds it out to the half-elf, nerves firing through his chest. He couldn't say what possessed him to do this. And if Florian would even want it. He has a family somewhere, who probably sent him a lot of gifts. His hand shakes a little where he holds out the bracelet. (edited)
Florian
Florian's jaw drops as Kismet shows off the bracelet - exhibiting how it works.
A birthday present. Oh damn.
Their last birthday was a difficult one - the first one they'd ever had to spend alone without any family or friends. Well, "had to" is a strong term, it was Florian's own fault. They weren't used to being alone like that.
They reach out to collect the bracelet from Kismet's hands - immediately fidgeting and playing with it before pulling it over their wrist. Florian began bouncing in his seat with excitement.
They continued to play with it quietly, still speechless, before their eyes started to sting. Florian drew a hand up to their face. It was wet.
The half-elf rubbed at the tears and looked back up at the older elf.
"Gods, Kismet. Holy fuck. Thank you! Thank you, thank you really." Florian smiled before pushing himself towards Kismet - wrapping the other in a tight hug.
There was a moment of hesitation before they realised something. This is Kismet. Kismet. You can trust him. You can say more. "I, ah... I really had a bad time this year, not be able to contact my family or let them know where I was. I... Gods, I can't even begin to explain how much this means to me."
Kismet
Kismet huffs out as Florian wraps him in a tight hug. He sits there for a few moments, not quite comprehending what's happening. Then his arms seem to move on their own, wrapping tight around Florian, pressing his cheek into his hair. He half-listens, making a note of checking on him later about his family, but in that moment his mind is blank.
They aren't the same.
He pushes aside the voice, just for today. Tries to keep his foolish tears at bay, fails miserably. He's realising with a kind of pathetic twist in his stomach that he hasn't had a hug like this in...well. If he has to think about it, it's been a long time.
He pulls away, wiping his cheeks as best he can. "I'm glad you like it," he says, voice croaking. Ah, this is the pillow fort. No place for shame here.
"Now, I ought to let you both sleep." He fixes them both with a look, knowing full well his eyes are puffy and red. "See you in the morning."
He gets up, and makes his way out of the fort.
Florian
Florian stared at where Kismet left from - they wanted to say something, like how Kismet could stay the night here if he wanted. But. No. It was Kismet's choice, they suppose they couldn't stop him.
Kismet. Yeah, Kismet was probably safe. Flori felt like they could talk to them more.
"Good night!" They cheered, "and thank you again!"
They rub at their eyes again, still very weepy, and turn to Valac. Despite the tears, they smile and hold out the bracelet on the wrist. Elated to have a gift like this.
"Erm," Florian stuttered. "So... did you guys have a nice walk?"
Valac
Valac brings his knees up and props his chin atop as he watches the exchange between the two. It’s a pretty bracelet and it will look even better on Florian. But something tugs at him when tears wet Florian’s cheeks and he averts his gaze, suddenly beset by shame. This isn’t for him to see, that kind of closeness, he shouldn’t be here.
When Kismet starts to leave, he doesn’t look his way or make a move to stop him. And then Florian is turning to him.
“It was more stargazing than walking, but yes”, he answers, carefully considering how much to reveal. “Almost cracked our heads open falling from a gazebo, but other than that, all good.”
Florian
Florian let out an exasperated laugh when Valac notes the falling from a gazebo.
"Gods! Luxon's light, I'm glad you're both okay." They pop one of the bracelet's beads back and forth. "Aaaa, I haven't been stargazing in so long. It was super easy to see the stars back home."
Florian flopped down onto a pillow, still facing Valac. By mistake, his head landed on his copy of Tusk Love. They grabbed it, held it up, and then placed it further away.
"I figured I'd stay up and read until you both came back. I know you both can handle yourselves fine it's just,,, ah you know, it's late and I'm anxious."
They look back at the Tiefling. "How have you been? Sleeping okay? Kismet gave me this neat tea that's been working pretty well."
Valac
“I’m afraid tea won’t do much to help. Don’t worry about it”, Valac throws a sideways smile at Florian.
His days kept getting weirder and weirder, which was an achievement of its own. This whole past week, but especially the last two days, had been… peculiar, for a lack of a better word, Valac settled. They stole a book, got thrown into jail, got out of jail to meet a bunch of even weirder folk, set a tavern on fire, spent a night in the woods, trashed a criminal hideout, came back and spent several days shopping, getting drunk, and fighting between themselves in no particular order. Tomorrow, they were about to willingly walk into a dungeon to free a stranger from the Dynasty.
And now here he was, in a pillow fort, face leaned so hard on his hand that it pulled his eyebrow up, looking at the only person in the empire who knew he’s from Asarius. And that person was from fucking Rosohna of all places.
He was lost. This made little, almost no sense, but he felt his power grow nonetheless and stayed on the path. If only Amīcus was here to guide hi-
His blood ran cold at the realisation of that thought. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic behaviour, and he wanted to claw at his skin for it.
“Tusk Love, hm? It’s been a while since I’ve read it”, he decided to occupy his hands and mind with something completely different. “Don’t remember much past chapter 9. Mind if I refresh my memory?”
Florian
“Ah well, I feel that. The tea is only working so much. Has holding my hand and-“ cuddling. Florian’s brain pauses for a moment. You’ve been cuddling Valac more than holding his hand. Florian cleared his throat. “Holding my hand, yes. Has that been helping?”
At Valac’s question concerning the book, Florian immediately picked his copy up and looked through the number of papers marking out pages. Each paper scrap had a small, rough note scribbled onto it - generally incomprehensible but it worked for the half-drow. They flicked through until they landed on a key event from chapter 9.
“Hmmmm, ah yeah that’s the chapter where they fuck in this abandoned fisherman shack after their ship sinks.”
Florian opens the book to chapter 9 and begins shifting through the further pages. “Okay so it kinda goes into like... aaaa... hurt comfort sort of thing? Oskar - that’s the half orc character - gets sick with a cold or something. And then the tiefling - Guinevere - she has to nurse him back to health. And then it kinda goes on for a few more chapters until Guinevere has to leave in order to find medicine.”
They flick through the remaining chapters, memories of what occurred during them coming back to him easily. Florian was always best at remembering useless information like this. He could probably recite the first 2 chapters of Copper Heart at this point.
“But yeah, it kinda gets super melodramatic at this point - like a race against time to save Oskar. But, y’know this was always the sort of book where you have to get drunk to read and laugh at it. I really like this one.”
Florian closes the book and turns it over, starting to read the blurb on the back. “I guess that really was the most explicit they got in this book - which is a shame it really wasn’t badly written. I have other books that go further with that sort of stuff but it’s all back home. They’re all in Undercommon or Dwarvish - so a little bit difficult to take with me out here.”
They look up at Valac.
“Oh yeah I finished Fire and Silk the other night - it was one of those nights you were gone after... erm after the thing between Kismet and Asriel. I meant to tell you earlier but you were gone a while - where were you by the way?”
They shake their head - realising that that was an overstep. “Nope, ignore that. Sorry for asking.” They point over to their bag. “Fire and Silk is in there if you’re still interested in reading it. It ended exactly how I thought it would but there are a load of half-decent sex scenes in it.”
Valac
Valac simply sits back under the assault of information and questions Florian rains on him. He must have been anxious all day if he's so jittery now, he thinks, and lets another bemused smile slip from him when the half-elf reprimands themselves for proding. He briefly entertains the idea of sharing the same piece of information as he did with Kismet, but that would be pushing his luck.
"I was visiting old friends and taking care of business," he answers, tone final enough to signify there will be no more elaboration.
He listens to Florian recall the entirety of Tusk Love, noting the mention of Dwarvish as well, and makes a mental note to remember that it's a language they know.
"Ah, the shack! That's why everything after chapter 9 paled in comparison. As for Fire and Silk," he nods in the direction of Florian's bag, "I am quite in the mood for predictable endings and half-decent sex, so I'll accept that offer."
He turns around, casting a quick glance at his surroundings. Regretfully, having 9 people in the pillow fort dragged lots of dust and dirt from outside. He notes exactly one vibrant green leaf on the pillow where Arabella had sat and picks it up before casting a quick prestidigitation to clean everything. Pleased with himself, he carefully places the leaf back where it was before dropping on another pillow and looking up with expectation at Florian. He'd asked about his dreams.
"Wanna sleep in here again? I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to a regular bed."
Florian
"Ah, I hope your old friends are doing well then." Florian responded , still mentally facepalming at the fact that he'd asked at all. Their mouth was moving faster than their brain - but he supposed that was normal. "At the very least, I'm glad you're okay. The whole thing that happened that day was scary - and then you, Kismet, and Arabella all left at once. I was so stressed out, I ended up stuck out in the street until Agatha found me. Plus, when you came back, you looked really tired. I hope you were sleeping well-"
The half-elf shook themselves out of their ramble before he ended up saying too much again. They turned towards their bag and retrieved the copy of Fire and Silk - quickly handing it over to Valac.
"I'm not too fussed about how long you take to read it - just give it back whenever okay?"
It was then that they noticed how all the dust and dirt had disappeared. Ah, Valac's spell again.
"Ah! Thank you! I didn't want to have to try and clean this place out."
They watched as Valac dropped onto one of the pillows and asked them if they wanted to sleep in the fort again.
Florian nods quietly. "Mmm yeah! I'd prefer to sleep here. Are you still okay with me... erm... cuddling you? I haven't really had the chance to check in with you about that."
Valac
He has to stifle a laugher when Florian continues rambling with an expression that can only be described as indignation that their mouth is even running.
“I do not mind, I am somewhat used to it now, if that’s what you want,” he says as he takes the book and does a quick scan of the pages. “But I also do not require it. You sleep deep enough, I probably won't wake you.”
Valac quickly checks the page count, noting that if he starts now he might be able to finish it tomorrow. Perhaps he’ll read at the beach. “Do you prefer the cuddling or the hand holding?”, he asks nonchalantly, not taking his eyes off the book.
Florian
Florian laughs. "I suppose I do prefer cuddling." They lie down next to the Tiefling. "I tend to gravitate in my sleep towards anyone near me - apparently it's really difficult to wake me up as well. I've been told that I just kinda... hold on to people. It used to annoy some people a whole lot."
Valac was still looking at the book.
"I picked it up by chance while I was in Zadash earlier this month. Tell me what you think of it when you're done."
Valac
Valac decides against prodding when Florian mentions anyone finding the cuddling annoying, as much as curiosity eats at him.
Instead, he hums and focuses on the first page of Fire and Silk and- wow, ok, it starts so soon.
Eventually, he feels his eyelids weigh him down, and struggles against it, as Adeen just broke down at the realisation of her romantic feelings for Harriett. At some point, the words pool in meaningless sentences, swimming around each other, and the call of the deep consumes him with Florian's warm embrace.
Florian
Knowing that Valac didn't mind, Florian pushed into the Tiefling's space and wrapped their arms around him.
"Night Valac, sleep well."
They quickly close their eyes. It had been easier to sleep since Kismet gave them the tea, but it still took a moment to doze off. Florian lay there, listening to Valac flicking through the pages of the book. He began running through the events of each chapter in his head until they finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep.