Home With You

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Revision as of 03:04, 4 May 2022 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "The trip to the temple was a pleasant one; the pair holding hands as if on a stroll. Even if it was with a loose escort and had a purpose. A preventative, precautionary purpose; a formality for peace of mind, or so Verna believed. A belief that was proven presumptive and frighteningly false, in retrospect. Thus the return trip home was a notably less ... casual journey, from Verna's perspective. While she does not leave Auranar's side, there is a notable lack of clasped...")
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The trip to the temple was a pleasant one; the pair holding hands as if on a stroll. Even if it was with a loose escort and had a purpose. A preventative, precautionary purpose; a formality for peace of mind, or so Verna believed.

A belief that was proven presumptive and frighteningly false, in retrospect. Thus the return trip home was a notably less ... casual journey, from Verna's perspective. While she does not leave Auranar's side, there is a notable lack of clasped hands, with even hesitation against. Upon their return, perhaps in light of the interrupted tea (that Auranar had put effort into), she promptly offers to make the replacement pot even as she fills it to put it to heat.

Inside the house once more, Auranar stands her coat still on and her eyes somewhat distant with lingering shock. It takes her several moments to remember to take her coat off, and then she hangs it beside the door slowly. Every motion of her body tense with confusion and worry. She then moves like a ghost through the house. Faint movements hardly making any noise at all. The elvish woman hesitates near the edge of the kitchen before crossing the threshold into the room. Cooking will make her feel better. More secure, but she can't think of what to make. Verna's bustling about making tea only makes her feel more disconnected.

Filling a pot with water only serves as a viable distraction for so long, and not very long at that. She watches the pot for a minute or so before turning to Auranar in the kitchen. She would much prefer her smile be present, but cannot fault its absence. Like the smile, the sylvanori's expression is echoed, adding to Verna's own. "Aura, I do not know what to say, except to apologize. Is there anything I might do to aid you?"

Auarnar looks around the kitchen, failing to find any inspiration there-in for some manner of meal. A bit of fruit, a few breakfast scones do not a meal make, and though they are not in need of groceries insofar as that... nothing sounds like something she wants to eat. Her stomach feels hollow and empty. Dark fingers caress the top of the stone countertop and she looks up at Verna's words. "I don't know what to make." She offers quietly and then lifts a hand in an uncommon gesture to push her hair back from her face. She tucks it behind one pointed ear and finally covers her eyes and leans into the countertop. "An apology... what good does that do us? For what?"

She curls around her elbows and scrubs her face with her hands. "Shouldn't I be the one apologizing? If you hadn't thought to have me checked out too... I could have reinfected you and neither of us would have been any the wiser for it."

"If you had not encouraged me to be treated, first..." Verna counters. She takes some steps towards and a hand lifts for Aura's shoulder by muscle memory... though she stops just short of contact, uncertain. "You sought to my well-being, and I sought to yours. For that, I do not apologize, and neither should you."

Hearing Verna's voice close at hand, Auranar lowers her fingers and looks at the other woman. Curled around the counter as she is, gives Verna an illusion of height. She looks at Verna's stopped hand and it makes her eyes crinkle in dispair that the other woman might ever be uncertain of her welcome. Without thinking she wraps her arms around Verna, tucking her head into the other woman's hair and grasping her tightly to herself. "I don't want anything else to happen to you. I was so worried Verna. When I couldn't find you and Dolan told me he'd left you behind..."

She could have said so many harsh things then, and now they owed Dolan so much. If not for his warnings, and his preparedness... Both of them might be lost to Caracoroth's power. "And now... I just don't know what to do with myself."

Well, that does certainly assuage Verna's concerns as to whether contact is welcome. "I apologize for making you worry and did not intend to do so," she offers while wrapping her arms about Aura. She is quiet a long moment or three before making a suggestion. "If nothing else, you could continue to do this for a time. I would not object in the slightest."

Auranar huffs out a low laugh, squeezing Verna but not letting go. "And what will I feed you if dinner is not made? I certainly don't want to go out." She murmurs this last sentence bit quieter.

True to her word, Verna does not mind the squeeze at all. "We are resourceful scholars and you are also an exceptional chef; I am confident that we can assemble suitable sustenance." One hand idly smooths Aura's hair, while she considers a thought. Due to proximity Auranar might well hear the gears turning, or simply know the Mourner well enough to discern this from her posture.

"Do I cause you more harm or threat than good?"

Auranar shifts so that she can look Verna in the eyes and gives her a firm look. "Forbear such thoughts!" She says just a little more firmly than her eyes alone can express. "It's the harm that I..." She stops there and looks down, eyes breaking at the edges. "I'm the one that brings such risk to our household Verna. If only I were more gifted in the magical arts but I have barely grasped the basics and... I'm a weakness. A place for those things you fight to hurt you."

"No." The word comes easily and firmly. A moment later Verna spares the fingers from Auranar's hair to place beneath her chin. With it, she seeks to lift her face and eyes back to her. "You are not my weakness, Auranar; you are my strength. I will always seek to see you safe, joyous, smiling. Not that I think you cannot do so, yourself, but because I shall ever worry. I think more of you, not less."

She allows her face to be drawn up so that she meets Verna's eyes, but Auranar can not agree. "And while you seek to see me safe, those who fight against you would see me harmed to bring you low. To wound you." She speaks softly, turning her face to Verna's hand. "I love you Verna, but you can not deny the truth of my words."

She is correct; Verna cannot deny her truth. "As I love you, I do not deny your words, Auranar. There will always be dangers, and the most conniving and vile might well use one of us against the other. What do you suggest?" The inquiry is earnest true, though she does make further mention.

"The only true immunity would be that we not care for each other..." a logical inference "... yet that is not possible, much less feasible."

Auranar sags in Verna's embrace. Both relieved and not to hear her words confirmed. She had however... no answer, and Verna's reply was no solution. "I am far too selfish to give you up Verna." She admits this readily enough, remembering how she had all but forced Dolan to help her find Verna in spite of his condition. She'd do it again. "But... perhaps the answer is that we have to trust Eluna and Vardama. That Eluna will guide our paths, and that should we die Vardama will allow us to return to one another."

It is not the best answer, but she rubs her cheek against Verna's fingers. "I'm not great with the faith part of things, that's more your area than mine, but I have hope. And I believe in you."

For a moment, there is a flicker of panic deep in Verna's thoughts-no, it is less conscious and more visceral than that- that Auranar might actually suggest some manner of ... separation. Likely fueled by Caracoroth with a gleeful howl.. and yet it is gratefully stomped out before fully realized.

The slump transfers osmotically so that each both supports, and is supported by, the other. "I shall trust Eluna to guide you, and thereby myself; as I shall be ever by your side when you wish it." She straightens somewhat. "My faith in Vardama and Her just judgment is complete. She would reunite us; nothing else would be proper." Verna would entreat Her until that course was made clear, if necessary.

Auranar seems thoughtful a moment. "Perhaps these dreams are a start. If you continue to have them, that will tell us something. If you do not, that will tell us something else. I never thought myself someone to do research into dreams but... The Elunan's keep meticulous records and I will entreat them to allow me to do some research into these ones. I do not doubt that they have significance. But that will wait." She leans forward and hugs Verna tightly again. "First I must feed you. What do you want?"

Verna returns the renewed embrace before taking a moment to consider the answer. Eyes flick to either side of Auranar at the counter behind her while she recollects a hasty inventory of the larder. "Something ... simple, so that we might assemble it together." That and they do not weary themselves in the process.

"In the morning, we can share whatever dreams occur. If there are further clues, we will catalog and investigate them. Such may provide the path to a solution." It would also honor her pledge to Aura, and possibly penance for not informing her of the dreams prior.

"How about just... breakfast for dinner? Scones and jam? Some fresh fruit? I'll put a loaf of bread in now and it'll be nice to have in the morning." Auranar is getting that distracted tone she gets when she's thinking of what to cook. It's nice to hear. Normal. She pulls a cutting board out and lays a knife beside it so that one of them can cut fruit while the other starts to arrange the scones on a serving tray. "We can have some of that nice fruity herbal tea we picked up from the market to go with it."

In a matter of moments a light, if somewhat less than usual dinner is ready to be eaten. Auranar doesn't sit in her usual chair tonight, but rather shares a couch with Verna. Scooted as close as she can. There's fun with jam and scones. There's smiles and softer conversation about books that the each of them are in the midst of reading. They head to bed late, neither of them really wishing to confront their dreams.

Because nightmares wait in the dark.

-End