Return from Grandfathers

It's lightly raining today, so Auranar has a white parasol in one hand. Which seems more protection for the barn owl on her shoulder than it does for herself considering the way she holds it very carefully to be sure that no rain falls on her companion. Her other hand is quite busy with a very large bag and a package that she is certainly having a touch of difficulty with - though she's declined aid with.

She looks different, not her clothes really, which are still very much the height of fashion if obviously hand-crafted by Grandfather with all of his skill and eye for detail. Nor even is it the long black hair that tumbles to her hips and slightly past, which has clearly recently been dyed pink half-way through. It's longer yes, but it's not what is most different about her. It's the way she carries herself. The comfort she has with the bow on her back, the way she doesn't even seem to notice the capped quiver of arrows secured to her waist - oddly enough. It's the look in her eyes that says that she's at home with herself.

"I think I had almost forgotten what the air smells like here." She comments, her nose wrinkling slightly, but with a touch of amusement as she rounds the corner and spots the house that is hers and Verna's on the hill. Auranar's step quickens almost imperceptibly in spite of all she carries. "It's good to be home though... I've missed everyone so much." But Verna most of all goes unsaid.

Cor'lana is beside Auranar, holding a basket filled with more things from Grandfather's home. It's funny to see the way that she looks at Auranar in ways that are as easily and as secretively as sisters can do, like they've known each other for a lifetime, but there it is. "You were gone a month here on this plane," she explains. "I'm sure that'll feel odd to wrap your head around. But... A lot of things have changed, and a lot of things haven't."

She grimaces a little. "For one thing, Telamon and I are currently occupying a magnificent mansion anchored to a room in your house," she says. "That's a story in of itself in addition to a recent development. And Pothy has managed to not become Hunter's favorite plaything yet."

But the smile returns to her face as she looks at the barn owl and at Auranar herself. "We're all glad to have you back. I'll take the hubris of speaking collectively on that."

As the bend and/or incline in the road is rounded and/or surmounted and The Residence comes into view, it also becomes clear that it is occupied. Well, rather that someone is present: it is the balcony overlooking the open sky off of the Redridge is occupied.

One of the gardening plots there is currently being tended by Verna. She wears the simple dress in tones of green and brown as she checks upon some of the producing vegetables and herbs. A wide hat of woven straw sits not upon her head but upon a watering can (currently unneeded due to the precipitation) to offer a shield overtop the open book sitting on the stone ledge of the tended gardening box. A book that is witnessed referenced more than once by pedestrians.

"That sounds like a story indeed." Auranar offers a worried glance toward her sister and studies the other woman a moment before nodding. "Well, if you're staying with us, then there will be plenty of time to tell it."

She has no intent to be rude, but her eyes are already scanning the house for some sign that it's inhabited and in the moment that she spots Verna she stops for just a second. It's been so long... Just a month here. She continues forward. "Poor Pothy. I'm glad that Hunter has been good so far. Maybe we can reinforce that good behavior... The last thing we want is for Hunter to decide that Pothy is a meal." Auranar smiles somewhat distractedly.

Cor'lana can see the hesitation, of sorts. It's been a long time for Auranar, and she knows from her own personal and painful experience that any period of time without a beloved one in the arms of the one who loves is... It's an uneasy thing. It's a hard thing to deal with.

And that's why she looks at Verna for a moment, too, before looking at Auranar. "She's still her," she says quietly. "And you're you. And she loves you for you."

Then with a little playful nudge of Auranar's arm, she adds, "Plus, the way you look right now? She'd be a damn fool to not fall in love with you all over again." There's the sisterly behavior.

Has only a month passed here? Some might believe otherwise. Even so, a month of neglect could prove catastrophic for any garden, especially during this time in or between seasons. Instead, it appears to have ... survived, at least. Limited abilities and good intentions are still better than none at all. If nothing else, the effort is there as Verna is quite focused on the task at hand, her back to most of the house and the road.

Auranar's eyes flash to Cor'lana and she smiles a broad grateful grin. She knows of course. A month isn't that long. It hasn't been so long for Verna really. But it feels different in her own mind. So long... It's eagerness more than anything as they draw closer to the house, and she's too burdened to wave a greeting. "Verna!" She calls out instead, her voice joyful at the closer sight of her wife. So long…

"We're home!" Cor'lana says with a great and wide grin, waving to Verna with her own free hand--and then sweeping her arm out like she's presenting Auranar. She'd add a cheeky spoken introduction, but really--the image of Auranar as she is now is one that speaks about a million words. There's a hint of pride in Cor'lana's eyes and smile. This is what a child of the Feathered One looks like--this is what a woman with a powerful and loving family in her corner looks like. Someone she's proud to call a sister.

Verna startles somewhat at the unexpected call of her name, though sets the small pruning scissors just picked up precisely back to where they were before turning. The now empty hand lifts as Cor'lana registers. She is an expected visitor (rather, guest). "Cor'lana, good da-"

It is then that Cor'lana's companion is noted to not be Telamon (the presumed other in 'we,' if not only Apotheosis). Verna blinks. There is no lack of recognition, even if some details seem different. Perhaps of not surprise to those present, said details are being parsed; paths of thought diverge and debate; words are considered.

Some actions do not require so much thought, however, or are subconsciously delegated. As her mind works to catch up in thought, her head is now forced to do so physically as her legs already have her hustling down the side of the house and towards Auranar. Fortunately for her, the fact that her head is attached to the rest of her makes this keeping pace a bit easier.

Auranar sets her bag down as Verna turns toward her, and murmurs something softly to the barn owl on her shoulder before setting the parasol beside the house and moving the last few inches - it feels like inches - to Verna herself. She doesn't wait or hesitate to take the other woman into her hands and arms. Doesn't care for a moment that Cor'lana is there, or that the owl is begrudgingly flapping her way to the porch to take shelter there from the rain.

One hand slips around Verna's waist and she's already got tears burgeoning in her eyes. "I've missed you." She whispers to Verna, tracing those familiar features with her free hand, pushing back Verna's white locks and looking at her like she'd memorize every feature if she could.

Cor'lana, of course, fully expected this reaction. She's grinning from ear to ear to see the two reunited. Goodness knows she's had more than a few teary-eyed reactions like this with Telamon in her own time.

For the moment, she offers them the space and time for each other, quietly ducking into the house to put away her own basket of presents from Grandfather's place. Nobody likes a third wheel on a push cart, after all.

Verna slips easily into the studious embrace at Auranar's lead, and words follow similarly. "And I you, love," she affirms softly." The hand not at Aura's waist lifts to her cheek, as it is wont to do, regardless of dusting of loam or scent of herbs upon it. Her gaze zooms from her wife's own to her features. "I ... feared you might be absent long enough that I might not be able to greet your return. I am delighted to be mistaken."

The wild elf's eyes resolve. "Did you think I would abandon you entirely? That I would not come back?" Auranar's eyes were already threatening tears. That Verna might actually think that Auranar had left her behind for good was a thought that hurt the elf physically. "I measured every day, every moment. I could never have left you Verna. All I've ever wanted was to give us both a life that's happy _together_."

Verna blinks as a sudden rush of terror fills her eyes at that interpretation. "No! I would never believe you would!" She promptly lowers her eyes, or rather her face, to rest it upon Auranar's shoulder. "Time. Different. Quelynos." Wholly grammatically incorrect, but perhaps fewer words equates to less chance for error? That or it is due to their emergence between sniffles.

After a moment, she lifts her head to look to Aura again, eyes wet. "My foolish frets are unfounded and are irrelevant. You are home, Auranar. That is all that holds import."

"Oh blast it all." Auranar mutters, her own fears left as unfounded as Verna's had been. "It's been far too long since I've done this." With those simple words she kisses Verna soundly, silencing both their worries in lips and gentleness that is far to long overdue. It doesn't last nearly long enough, but they're outside yet and there's an irritable owl as well as a patient sister waiting for them.

Auranar draws back and smiles at Verna gently, stroking her cheek. "There's a thousand things I want to tell you. Starting with how sorry I am that I left the way I did. But for right now... All I want is to be home." She smiles a little smile of uncertainty. "I made you a few things."

Verna approves of this method. She agrees that is has been far too long. She agrees that it does not last nearly long enough. Lastly, she can confirm that it is extremely effective at banishing worries as well as simply silencing them.

All leaves Verna with a smile that is only further empowered by Auranar's own. "I would hear them all and there is ample time for such, at your leisure. I have no shortage of questions," her eyes flick to the owl briefly with slightly lifted brows before they return.

"You are home. You- you must be famished. Weary. Travelled... I should prepare you a meal; let you rest; draw you a bath? I... attempted to maintain the house as you would want it."

"That all sounds amazing. Food and... spending some time with you would be ideal. We could... cook together?" Auranar suggests, picking up her bag and the box, and the parasol before making her way toward the door. "Something easy would be nice, so that we can spend more time just relaxing together? I don't want you off in the kitchen by yourself - I want to spend time _with_ you."

She nods politely to the owl who gives her a solid look and she has the grace to look embarrassed as they come around the porch. "Forgive me Alba, I was busy making my own greetings. Verna, this is Alba. My familiar. Alba, this is Verna - my wife." The owl blinks... owlishly at Verna and then subtly inclines. Very subtly.

"Together, indeed," Verna nods, her smile broadening at the superior idea. Speaking of which, she reaches, too late, to aid in bearing Auranar's things inside. This leaves an awkward moment before Auranar offers introductions. Verna dips her head to the owl. "Alba," she restates as both acknowledgement and repetition for memory. "Any ally or guest of Auranar's is accordingly one of mine," she offers in invitation.

The owl blinks - was that surprise - and then waits for the door to open before flying into the house. Auranar of course has too many hands full to do it herself, but she's more than happy to wait for Verna to do so. She follows her wife then into the house, and sets her bag, the package and then the parasol aside. A soft sigh leaves her at the sight of the house which is so familiar to her. "It's been so long..." She murmurs to herself, heading toward the bookshelves and touching them lightly. The owl has taken position on the mantle and is now preening herself whilst watching everything.

Cor'lana grins a little at Auranar as her sister enters the house. She'd been busying herself with helping unpack all of the sweet things that Grandfather had sent along with her. "Auranar is probably never going to want to cook alone ever again," she adds. "Grandfather is like that. Speaking of which, Verna, I hope you're ready for all of what's been brought."

She regards the owl for a moment and, oddly, offers the bird a respectful nod before she clicks her tongue. Pothy comes flying in from another room and onto her shoulder. "Pothy here will be more than happy to help with the food, considering he's here for a while."

Verna missed carrying, thus serves as opener of portals. After doing so, she turns to assist with the luggage, as it is... to find Cor'lana already working on it. As well, she seems more familiar with their contents. Her hands clasp before her, if simply to have something to to for the moment as she alternates between watching Auranar and looking to Cor'lana as if she might wish aid.

"She never need cook alone if she does not wish to." The final comment causes her eyes to drift to Pothy. "I shall never expect Apotheosis to be unhappy in any manner where food is involved."

Auranar chuckles lightly. "You're right of course. I've practically forgotten what its like to be alone at all." This does not seem to bother her or be something that she considers a bad thing. "I do hope that he takes me up on my offer of visiting more regularly. I told him that we should have tea on a regular basis. Just to catch up and so that I can make sure that he's taking care of himself of course."

A wink and then she takes Verna's hand. "What are you in the mood for? Something easy right? A nice stew that can cook while we talk maybe? Or maybe just a soup? With all of us at it we could make practically anything! Won't Telamon be surprised!"

"He should come over, yes," Cor'lana agrees vehemently. "And for you, I think he certainly will. Not to imply you're his favorite, but that time you spent with him was good for his soul. I imagine he will be happy for quite some time to come.

She smiles brightly as she looks at Pothy. "Let me ask the culinary expert. What should we cook? Stew? Soup?"

"Stew," Pothy concludes. Then he looks at the owl and gives her a little nod, like he'd arrived at the decision based on what an owl might like to eat with them. "Sounds like it's stew to me," Cor'lana laughs.

Verna much prefers holding Aura's hand to her own, so it is taken freely. "I am pleased that grandfather is well, though it is no surprise that he benefited from your company," she assures. At the question of what meal to prepare, her face alights further with An Idea and she echoes Pothy in unison with "Stew!"

The unintended simultaneous agreement earns Pothy another glance before Verna notes, "I know just what we shall make. Come." She then steps backwards towards the kitchen, keeping hold of Auranar's hand. It is a bidirectional attachment, afterall, and Aura wished they cook together. Be together. They are so, shall do so, and always will be so.

-End