All I Want

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Revision as of 21:21, 22 June 2022 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "The last time Verna traipsed off to another realm, days were lost. It could be of some consolation that her most recent venture only cost her the evening... at least in terms of time. The rain from the night prior is gone, replaced by glaring sun. Still, her cloak may not yet be dried and still steaming slightly as she trudges up the road, across the portico and inside. It is good to be home. Better than being elsewhere, at the least. She drops her satchel onto a table...")
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The last time Verna traipsed off to another realm, days were lost. It could be of some consolation that her most recent venture only cost her the evening... at least in terms of time. The rain from the night prior is gone, replaced by glaring sun. Still, her cloak may not yet be dried and still steaming slightly as she trudges up the road, across the portico and inside. It is good to be home. Better than being elsewhere, at the least.

She drops her satchel onto a table before dropping herself into her preferred chair. Weariness makes her want to sprawl, but others things have her put feet to the seat and pull knees to her chest with arms about them. She does not promptly call out for anyone nor check if she is home nor awake. Instead, she intently studies a point of space that lies somewhere in front of her: it could be her satchel, the table, the wall across, or a specific mote of air between all of those.

The sound of the door is enough to call Auranar, she comes down the stairs leading to the upstairs bedroom with her hair tied back in a white kerchief, her dress one of the summer sundresses that she favors when being comfortable is more important to her than looking a specific way. Which is to say not very often. She stretches as she comes down the stairs, and spies Verna pulled up in her favorite chair. Immediately she smiles, the other woman's presence has that effect on her, but the distant expression on Verna's features tells her that there's a lot on the other woman's mind. "Morning!" She offers warmly, walking over to the tea kettle set next to the hearth fire and setting up a small fire for tea. "How'd your trip with Dolan go?"

Some powers are far beyond mortal scope and cannot be denied; merely muted. Auranar's greeting and smile still bring the barest hint of one to Verna's lips even though her eyes barely move to register her and her expression. "We failed," she answers firmly, flatly and with a long, deflating exhale. "I failed. All but completely. I should not have gone. I should not have taken the relic. I should not even be a steward of it."

Auranar blinks at this morose set of statements from Verna. In truth, she is not used to Verna being so hard on herself. Usually the other woman is a stoic pillar of logic. Yet... things have been different with Verna since her trip to the fae realm, and Auranar patiently moves to sit on the seat closest to Verna's chair and reaches out to touch one hand that is wrapped around her knees. "What happened dearest?"

Verna startles lightly at the touch, despite being aware of her presence. Her head turns to face her, eyes weary and puffy. The stoic pillar of logic may have been recently in tears. "All was vague and unclear when we arrived. There was no clear direction nor path, so I used to relic to help shape one in the Dreamscape. It began reacting to our thoughts. First it was pleasant, wondrous: I saw you in it, radiant as ever," again a hint of smile, "another Dolan appeared, face unmarked yet missing his shirt," now a half-downturn in her lips to a smirk before all twists to a frown, "then thoughts turned far more painful..."

Auranar soothes her hand over Verna's. Offering some comfort through her fingertips. The proof of tears worries her, but she says nothing for the moment that isn't simple encouragement to continue. "Painful how?"

Verna re-prioritizes, shifting her free hand from her knee to place over Auranar's. "Dolan recalled the loss of his eye. It manifested before us. I -felt- his fear and helplessness as I witnessed it. My thoughts went to those times I felt such before... When Kol the vampire ravaged our temple, slew the elders before my while I was bewitched by him... The demon duke, when I stood, and fell, before him. More than once..."

Her eyes wet anew, though not enough for tears to fall. Not before she suddenly looks away to that more intriguing point in space again. "Him again, at our first meeting." A stumble of pause before she forces herself to continue else she might halt. "All of this made real before us all. It was our undoing. -I- was our undoing. Andelena fought off the fiendish thing that wanted to take more than Dolan's eye this time. I ... did nothing."

It's Auranar that links their fingers. She understands better than most the true horror of what Verna faced. How many times have they talked over these horrors together? The worst moments of their lives are a familiar topic to her, and she can well understand that the stronger emotions that Verna has been feeling of late... must have overwhelmed her. "It sounds to me as if you did not begin the road to these dark thoughts, but rather that Dolan's memories triggered yours. There is no shame in being brought low by the memory of tragedy and pain Verna. It is a wound no less real than one that is cut into you and bleeds."

"If there is none, why is that all I feel?" Verna inquires with an exhaled sigh, not yet turning her eyes back to Aura. "One tragedy is unfortunate, two a setback, but so many... to what does that amount but failure?" Her eyes finally pan their way to her. "I do not deserve you, Auranar, truly." One part may be compliment, but the remainder sounds for more literal.

"Because you feel more accutely now than you once did. Becuase shame comes to us wheather it is deserved or not. That you feel it, is proof that you are a being concious of your actions." Auranar smiles at the other woman and reaches out with her free hand to touch the other woman's cheek. "You can not deserve love Verna. It is a blessing of the gods and they bestow it to you whether you will it or no. And I will love you no matter how many times you stumble in your quests. I will always be here for you. Because my love comes without conditions or expectations."

Verna does not startle this time, instead leaning her cheek into Aura's palm. A cheek that then contorts oddly, as it cannot decide whether to laugh or sob. In the end, she does a bit of both: closing her eyes starts the flow down cheek (and hand) from them, yet there is a soft echo of Aura's smile present, too.

This continues in relative silence on her part for several moments before it is broken by a sniffle. "Now- now I am certain I am blessed beyond what I have earned." Slightly different phrase for mostly the same statement as before, but now it is far lighter; earnest compliment with a bit of humorous self-deprecation. "I do not know the proper action to take. Now, more often than ever. Is it worse to act incorrectly, or to not act at all?" Auranar firms her gaze slightly and then nods. "It was once said, that all it takes for evil to win, is for good people to do nothing. So I would think it better to make a thousand mistakes than to sit idly by in the hopes that others will do _something_." She looks at Verna fondly then. "Besides, could you really sit here and do nothing if more of your kinsmen were slain by werewolves? Or if our allies beg you for your aid? _Could_ you do nothing?"

Verna opens her eyes to see and meet the firmed gaze. A simple, poignant question. "No," is the soft answer, though he voice grows more certain as she adds, "I could not." Another sigh, this one more weary than despondent. "But I would prefer to do the correct something." Once more, Aura's smile is echoed, if still more subdued in comparison. "All is far more ... chaotic than it was." Or so it seems to her.

"Perhaps so. But we are alive which means that we can work toward the right thing now." Auranar rubs the tears off of Verna's cheek one by one with her thumb. Smiling at the bit of a mess there. After a moment she takes the handkerchief out of her hair and uses it to finish what she began. "Seems you need this more than I. It's alright if things are more complicated. We'll work it out somehow."

Verna is once more uncertain; being tended to and tidied is both wholly comforting and utterly embarrassing. Once more, her reaction is an amalgam of remaining still to be ...Auranared while her cheeks flush awkwardly during the process. "Thank you. I .. I know we shall." A sense of confident certainty finally returns to her voice. The 'we' being a key factor also brings a related thought to mind. "Love... should you ever again fear you are a burden, a weakness, or somehow less ... remember this." One hand lifts just enough to waggle fingers at herself, then to Auranar and her mystical tidying abilities. "You are still, and always, my strength."

Auranar has the grace to look embarrassed herself. "I forget sometimes that the little things matter. The right information at the right time. Care." They were only small to her of course, they loomed larger in reality. In the eyes of those they aided and those that received them. She glances down and then back up again, the handkerchief folded in her off hand and her smile returning to her lips. "We're stronger together. Cor'lana was right at the beach Verna. The forces of evil can not hope to stand against us united."

Now, at last, Verna's mirrored smile matches hers much more thoroughly. "We are, and they cannot. There is nowhere else I would rather be than at your side." A pause as she considers. "Except, possibly, for the bath." The horrors may or may not have been truly physical in the dreamscape, but the rain before and the terror-sweat during were most certainly real.

Auranar laughs and her dark eyes twinkle merrily. "I think we can accommodate both." She pulls away from Verna and stretches a bit. "I'll get the water warmed and you go relax in the room? I'll be up in a moment." She can think of a few things to do to pass the time while the water warmed. Things that would steal the last of the harsh memories from Verna's mind and leave her with nothing but smiles and good memories.

-End