Private Tales Bedside Manner

[Brenna]

Soft feet whispered against the oak wooden floors as the Nordenfiir made her way down the halls in the direction she had been pointed. Despite having only been in the City of Legend for a few days, Brenna had become a welcome face. Even now as she wandered down the corridor the people she passed smiled and waved or eagerly tested out the Signs they were being taught on her. The blonde took it all in her stride with a humble humility, a shy smile there, a tender correction to make the gestures flow smoother. She always had time for everyone no matter the position they held. A part of her wanted to stay and to learn more. There would be so much she could learn from the Priests here but this was not her path.

Not yet anyway.

Being inside she only wore her tunic and breeches, tucked into her thick fur lined boots. She had left her jacket in her own rooms and left her hair loose as she sought out a face she hadn't seen since their arrival. The others she had casually tracked down one by one just to ensure all was well, making it look coincidental in some cases and others less so. She had wanted to make sure the whole band were doing well after the attack at the watch point. Magrin when she had asked had only said Sol was 'alive' before continuing with his drink. She knew if it were serious the big man would be a lot more worried but still, she thought the other lad might have enjoyed some company whilst he recovered.

Bre had asked Gylfi to come but the Grumpy Bear had simply slunk further into his chair and sulked.

Pausing outside of the room an acolyte had pointed to she took a breath and then knocked.

 

[Solveig Odasson]

He had smelt and heard someone approaching before the knock, but had been mostly absorbed in sharpening his knife. An open book aged beyond reckoning sat at the small and rickety table before him. It had been a gift from the aged Healer who had brought him from his stupor, and explained to him what she believed had happened. What, in the moment of striking the undead mage down, he had become. The book, and a simple pendant carved of steel that had been collected from iron sand on a nearby beach. Said pendant hung from his neck on a leather thong, a gleaming flame and hammer device worn by age like the text.

Sticking the knife in the table (countless others had done the same by the look) he stood and strode over to the door, opening it with perhaps a bit more force than needed. Readying a snarl at likely being interrupted by this or that Acolyte who wanted to invite him to study at the feet of some priest. But he held to his mission for Maude still. He would see it through, no matter what. And even after, he doubted he would take to a life of religious devotion in any form. No matter what Gyseila said had happened to him.

There on his threshold however, stood one of the few he might actually be glad to see. Brenna had always had a pleasant demeanor and aura about her. And took even his more caustic humors in stride and in well adjusted reaction. Hands that were wrapped in soft cloth that was just a shade more durable than leather stopped at reaching to jerk the door close, and a harsh tongue bit off a reply before it was much than a sub-audible growl.

The only real response was to smile, lightly. Then nod.

"Brenna... It's good to see you. I debated seeking you out, but... They say I still need more rest... "

With a turn to the side, he revealed a tidy if chaotically organized room. Weapons he had been given to study. A small pile of books. Scrolls from local smiths. One singular incident had caused a mild sensation amongst a handful of people. An annoyance, really. Somehow though, he took to it well enough. But his demeanor with her was as much of the old him as remained.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna merely blinked when he opened the door sucking the air out from the hallway and into his room with such force it actually disturbed the waves of her hair. Blue eyes as deep and as vast as oceans looked up at him and offered not a flinch, not a disapproving frown or returning retort as another Nordenfiir might do, but rather a smile. Her eyes drifted to his lips as he spoke, understanding sparking for a moment and her pleasant smile turned in to one of slight mischief. She raised a finger to her lip then cast her eyes this way and that as if waiting for an ambush of some kind from a priest. Once she was sure the coast was clear from behind her back she produced a basket of food and wine. It hadn't taken much sweet talking to get them off the cook.

Rest doesn't mean no meade!

It most certainly did but she slid past him, under his arm and into the room before either of them were caught. She carefully cleared a space on the table with the efficiency of someone who was used to having her own desk cluttered with similar scrolls and documents, then plopped the basket down and with a dramatic reveal, showed it to be full of not only meade but spiced cakes too.

 

[Solveig Odasson]

An eyebrow was arched, and the only response at first. She moved as if this were her quarters. But not in an aggressive manner. More in the cheery, easy manner she had since he met her. Since the incident, dour moods had been frequent with him. Sleep was broken, his dreams troubled, and most of his time when not in bed sleeping was really not his own. But... There was always a price for such things, even if not as literal as some thought.

Spiced cakes. Meade. The surprise brought a genuine and warm smile that split his features, even brightening his eyes. He closed the door quietly, letting the latch fall and shrugged a little at the click of it, turning to speak, letting her see his lips. He would need to ask her about those hand signs she used.

"If I don't force the door closed, the Priests come and go as they please. I am not sure if I am a patient or a thing they wish to study... But... This looks... Amazing... Thank you. Ursa only makes a thin bone broth and water... So I am famished."

He smiled, pushing the stout boar-hide armor of his off a chair onto the floor with care before offering her the sturdier of the two now open seats in the room.

"To what do I owe this visit? I don't recall having tormented you recently..."

A sly wink, to show the joke as he grabbed two clean cups and sat them down, offering one to her as he waited for her to sit first. Erik had taught him SOME manners. Or tried to.

Brenna

 

[Brenna]

If Brenna had any concern about being locked into his dorm she didn't show it, instead she only nodded her understanding and acceptance with the blissful ease of a person who trusted openly. Her demeanour, like always, was cheerful and it only seemed to increase when she saw him smile. The petite blonde even clapped her hands together as if she had achieved something incredibly important. As he began to clear the chairs Brenna spread the cloth that had covered the basket across the table then produced a couple of plates from within the wicker, piling up a few cakes on each one and even producing a small pot of honey. When he offered her a chair she sat and slid one plate across to him.

Her eyes traced his lips as he spoke, mind working to decipher what it was he said with the practised ease that came with years of having to do the same for nearly every person she met. With her hands full of the cup and wine she couldn't reply straight away. It seemed to cause almost a hint of... embarrassment. Still, she focused on the task at hand, popping the cork with her teeth and filling both mugs to a more than generous level, before freeing her hands and replying.

Nobody had seen you for a few days. I just wanted to check you were ok.

Bre hesitated. The Signs were not something everyone in the party knew; Gylfi and Maude had a smattering, as did the new Ranger in their party, but she hadn't been able to determine how much Sol knew. Clearing her throat a little she attempted to overlay her Signs with what little she could remember of speaking.

"Nobody... seen you... I ... check you... ok," she grimaced, glad she couldn't actually hear how she sounded.