✿ THE HOUSE ✿
Adra's house is a cozy stone cottage on the outskirts of Caissa, close enough to the sea that one can hear the breaking waves throughout the day.
This afternoon, there's light, cool rain falling intermittently, tapping in a rhythm at the windows and roof. Fortunately, the kitchen is warm, bright, and welcoming. Its counters and tables are covered with freshly prepared foods of all kinds, and there are plenty of chairs for visitors who might like to sit and relax.
A door from the kitchen leads out into the garden, which is not quite yet fully landscaped, but which boasts a promising array of flowers (orchids, roses, lilies, tulips, etc) and herbs. Adra's also cultivating strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, and so on; the strawberries and cherries in particular are ripe for picking. Adra has strung enchanted, floating fairy lights all over the garden; they cast a soft, ethereal glow over the paths and carefully tended patches of greenery. At the garden's center, there's a clear pond filled with red and pink lotus blossoms.
Back inside, a visitor might like to rest in the den. There's a roaring fire in the hearth, and sitting near it for a short while offers a boost to the weary spirit. Soft, plush chairs and couches fill this room, making it ideal for lounging. The tables are covered with books borrowed somewhat indiscreetly from the library; they deal largely with the magic and history of Enprise.
Adjacent to the den is Adra's study. In here are half-empty bookshelves and antique rolling desk covered with neat stacks of papers, boxes of quills, and numerous pots of ink, each one in different, brilliant colors. His journal is somewhere here, too ...
Finally, down the hall one will find a half bathroom and, across from that, the door to the second bedroom--belonging to one Gilgamesh. The master bedroom, belonging to Adrasteius, is at the end of the hall. There's a full bath in there, but this room is definitively locked.
✿ THE SPREAD ✿
As usual, Adra's gone over the top in his preparations. For drinks, there's a sweet, refreshing punch; delicately pink and decorated with sprigs of flowers. There are pitchers of sparkling ice water, jugs of wine and spiced mead, and plenty of glasses to share.
Though Adra does not eat meat himself, he prepares it ably; there's a honey-glazed, roasted turkey in the center of the table, right beside a carving board heavy with seasoned, hand-carved slices of fresh beef. Red potatoes, bright with paprika and salt and glistening with pats of melting butter, are arranged in wedges around the turkey. There are woven baskets of steaming rolls, flaky and soft; platters of carrots and broccoli and asparagus; enormous bowls of belly-warming soup filled with thick wheat noodles, sliced egg, and shredded cabbage. At one end of the table, there's a plate of burgers, along with small dishes to fix them--bacon, crispy onions, sauteed mushrooms, and all the necessary condiments. He has plates of savory pies, filled with beef or pork or chicken; steamed and fried dumplings stuffed with meat and spring vegetables, plump and perfectly shaped.
The desserts are similarly extravagant: he has a plate of meticulously crafted flower and fruit cakes; some look like ripe, blushing peaches, others, he shaped into red orchids, lotus blossoms, or golden roses. He's made a chocolate tart so dark that its smooth, sugar-dusted surface shimmers reflectively in the overhead light. Cupcakes of all kinds are scattered here and there, as well as an extravagant, multi-tiered confection dripping with fudge sauce, encrusted with sliced strawberries and vibrantly colorful, fondant flower petals. There are loaves of warm banana bread; fruit tarts glittery with rainbow sugar crystals; and, under glass, an assortment of flavorful macarons baked to look like something plucked right from the starry sky.
But the most important thing about Adra's lavish banquet is this: all of the food is enchanted, laced with magic meant to inspire feelings of comfort and security. Eating it may conjure up familiar, welcome sensations or memories--nothing sorrowful or painful, and only as specific as you'd like. It could be something as simple as the feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a cold day, or as complex as a particular soothing memory. In all cases, the intended effect is meant to inspire calm and ease.
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[And then turns her attention towards the orchids.] So that was your first gift. Or orchids must remind you of Jae-ha. He gave me flowers once too.
[She turns and looks at the small pond.] Those. Lotuses. My namesake, Sen. The red ones are my favourite.
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--your name isn't 'Vietnam'?
[ Deception, this whole time? ]
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........AGAIN.]
Oh! It is! I have two names. One is the country name, the other is human, usually for purposes like paperwork. The name I use is Sen Linh Đoàn. You can use Vietnam or Sen. Whichever you prefer.
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Sen, huh? I'll have to think of another nickname, now.
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He does look distressed though, despite it looking like his preference is to use her human name.]
So that is the one you chose. Still, anything you wish. I like your nicknames.
[She wonders if it's harder with Sen now since it's just a single syllable. He probably can't call her S because that just means sadist.]
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Sennie? Hmm?
[ If a name's long, he'll make it short. If it's short, then ... longer. ]
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And that...is cute, weh...]
Sennie it is.
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I'm so glad you approve.
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She's feeling a little guilty that he's going to lose a pretty flower, but still, she appreciates it. He shouldn't be giving her gifts if this is his housewarming?]
As I said, I like your nicknames. Thank you, Adrasteius.
[And then she turns her head so he can see the lotus in her hair.] What do you think? [She's just playing.]
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He reaches to touch the petals, to straighten them out a bit, his fingers brushing gently against her scalp in the process. ]
It suits you. But do you like it?
[ He ain't playin. ]
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She flushes slightly, but it's a gentle motion that she leans, barely, to his touch.]
I like it very much. Red lotus is my favourite, after all. You shouldn't be giving me gifts on this day. This doesn't compare to what I gave you.
[Wait, she gave him something?
THE STORY: Having been told that he will be aware of any ambush, Vietnam timed her arrival to be after people started to join the party. With enough noise, Vietnam practically broke into and entered the master bedroom and now near one of his dressers is one paper flower arrangement made out of old books, books that no longer can be used.
That's right. She handcrafted something that symbolises both books and flowers that he loves a lot.
...She then left and entered through the front door like every other normal person. Look, old fantasy houses are much easier than a modern one.]
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I only ever asked for your presence, Sen.
[ He had noticed her leaning in, so he lets his fingertips linger, pressed lightly against her hair. ]
An incomparable gift, as it stands.
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[It's a careful motion, when she reaches up to cup his hand, slowly because she's not sure if this is a little too bold.]
No, it is the least I can do.
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[ Ah, there's her hand over his. He's starting to blush. ]
Your hands are warm, Sen.
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God if he blushes, she blushes harder?!]
Ah, I am not sure. I believe yours might be warmer. [Though this might be scientific in this case.]
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[ Their hands still haven't moved ... he clears his throat. ]
I locked that door for a reason, you know.
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[She knows the mechanics of some enough to ask for them to be made. Still, she can tell this could be discomforting. While her hand never budges from his, she does reach out with her other to hold his free hand in a reassuring manner.]
Do not worry, I was in and out before I saw anything. [She didn't need to tidy up for him, anyway.] And the lock is still intact. This is the first, but will be the last time.
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[ He'd have to look into it. He sounds distracted from that point, anyway. Now he's glancing at her other hand. He mutters. ]
Well, so long as it's you, it's probably all right.
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[That should be warning enough, seriously. Either way, Vietnam hopes that Adra is now completely reassured.]
Hmm? [She looks at him more curiously.] Well, I do not make it a habit, but if so...perhaps one more time. [She just won't tell him when.] But I will visit often, and I will be more well behaved.
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You don't have to be too well-behaved.
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Adrasteius, are you encouraging my bad behaviour? [Or at least some of it.]
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[ He blushes a little redder. He's actually not very good at this; any charm he manages is a result of earnestness, not skill. And his next thought is a little too much, even for him. ]
Never mind, Sen. I'm being too forward.
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Perhaps she missed a memo somewhere, but she thinks she's caught on. At least 10% of it.]
It is fine to speak your mind, Adrasteius. I trust you. Only if it makes you comfortable, that is.
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I'm trying to say that I don't mind the thought of you in my room.
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Well, that was straightforward (Vietnam it's not like that)]
Will you allow me in your room? Perhaps next time I will not need to break in.
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