✿ 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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I'm fine.
[ His ears fold back, and the scarlet color rises up his cheeks again as he goes to sit on his bed. Vietnam had clearly articulated the facts of the situation, and he's nervous again. ]
Yes, well. There you have it.
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Because now he's all heated again.]
There, it is fine, no? I am here. [She straightens up, before sitting lightly on his bed to join him, although as she wasn't quite invited, she makes sure to take a very small part of it. Just a corner, and her hands folded neatly on her lap. So graceful, you wouldn't have thought she just encouraged him to break into his own room.] I thought doing something strange could make things a little more interesting.
[Make what interesting?!]
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I really don't know what you mean.
[ It's difficult to look at her just now, because looking at her would directly acknowledge that she is in his room and on his bed, and that just leads down a whole other thorny path, thought-wise. ]
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But outside of that--]
You always seem to be holding something back.
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Is that a bad thing?
[ He licks his lips, like a nervous cat. ]
I expose my throat because I don't mind if it's cut. But I'd rather not also get my heart stabbed in the bargain.
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[This is surprising, because just before he wasn't burning up like this. She pulls back in surprise, but reaches out again, now she knows what to expect. This conversation is going a rather interesting direction.
Vietnam is gentle with Adrasteius, that is for certain. But there is still that part of her, one that overpowers men. Everything she does is her own choice. Her hand moves before she knows it, reaching to gently touch the front of his neck, fingers then following those tattoos.]
I've had my heart stabbed before. And again. And I fought. And then I won. And they will always be my family. It got better. I think this applies with any situation, at varying degrees.
[She sits herself next to him, shoulders just touching.] But no matter what they do. [Whoever it may be. Even everyone.] It is up to you, in the end.
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I have, too. Many times, over many years. But eventually a person has to learn from their mistakes, don't they?
[ Not that he has, or is. Because he wouldn't even be sitting here with her if that were the case.
He kisses the pads of her fingers. ]
Eventually.
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Strange. How this happens. By now she's recognising this as a familiar feeling. It's something she needs to think about.
And so she rests her head on his shoulder, just so she can. It's strangely comforting.]
I wonder if they are mistakes.
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Tends to feel that way, in the end.
[ He's thinking of past relationships--of which, admittedly, there have yet been only a few. But there have been plenty of relationships never begun, feelings never spoken aloud. Opportunities missed, perhaps. ]
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She takes his hand into hers now, and rubs it warmly. There. Now he can rest a bit.]
I suppose so. To teach us. Though we would have to experience it. And whether or not we would risk it to gain everything. These decisions are very hard.
[But knowing how her own life has went, she's always been determined to decide, once and for all. That being said, living as a human nowadays has shown her that sometimes, that's not always the best course of action.]
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[ He sighs, feeling the friction between their hands, feeling the heat in his own blood. ]
I was born in this month, you know. On the day of the summer solstice. My brother and I both.
[ He looks at Vietnam while he talks, his felfire eyes liquid, soft. This might seem like an abrupt change of subject, but it's not common for him to discuss anything personal to himself, not to anyone. ]
My brother was fine, but the midwives said I was born burning. The first night in my crib, I nearly melted the damn thing.
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June 21st? Or...R-rosa 21st? [And he has a twin? There was a strange familiar feeling...like she always knew that. Or suspected. But how on earth would she have such a feeling when this is the first time Adra's ever told her.
Either way, she's going to have to get him something. But she keeps that piece of information to herself for now, and listens as he speaks of his youth.]
What happened after? Did you cool down? Was it because...magic?
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Yes, Rosa, if we go by this world's reckoning of the calendar.
[ As for his misbegotten infancy ... ]
I cooled down enough. It's just--something in my blood. I had difficulty controlling it for a long time. Sometimes, I still do. But it's always harder in the summer.
[ By midsummer, his blood, on some days, feels like it's boiling. ]
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So it is soon...but ah, you won, it is not overcome, but you are managing it. That is power in itself.
[He kissed her fingers before, no? So it is only fair she returns the favour. She lifts his hand up, and kisses the back of his palm.]
There. Such warmth will not hurt me.
[Well, it might here, but she knew a good number of things that hurt her will always heal.]