Private Tales Graceless and Divine

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Her eyes followed him as he got up, peering up at him through dark lashes.

Of course he would think it the easy way for her to simply use her talents to get him to speak, but that was only a game in which Vittoria liked to play. Not every person strapped to a chair would react the same way, would beg her for mercy the same. To yield different results was what kept the game alive for her, and now, Kilien spoke of such ridiculous thoughts.

"Is that what your family of Soothsayers tell you of our future, Basmarc?" She lifted her chin, studying him with such scrutiny. "I do not think everything will come to pass. It is endearing that you think I would ever think to befriend you, Kilien. Then you speak of romance?" Vittoria snorted.

But he was already far more interesting than many in their class. That was certainly not a factor to being more than they were to each other now.

"I would not weaken my resolve by having feelings for the likes of you." For the blood in which he shared with his grandfather. Already that knowledge besmirched him in her eyes.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"I haven't seen my family in many years," he confessed, though he couldn't be exactly sure just how long. Since long before his incarceration, at the very least. He'd been young, though old enough to remember. Old enough to miss them, but those sort of sentiments get lost in the miasma of prison life and everything that went along with it. After a while the memories just sort of faded into the background like a dream you can't quite remember the details of after waking.

Then she used his first name for the first time since getting him assigned as her partner and it shifted the expression on his face just enough to be noticeable. Charm melded into a faint smugness.

"I dunno, Vitt," he moved to step by her, hand stretching to pull his jacket off the seat back, and leaned in close to her face as he did so, "we're already on a first name basis and it's not even noon."

"So," straightening away from her then, Kilien shifted past her knees to pick up the basket of supplies, "what's next on the agenda for this project?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

He was close enough she could have gone to bite his nose, to threaten him with a glimpse of her teeth. Before she could do either, he leaned back away from her and left her with disappointment of the distance between them. Next time, she would not hesitate to hurt him.

"Midday is not far off." She mumbled, slipping from the table and going to her leather satchel, withdrawing the large text on poisonous plants. Vittoria opened it onto the table she had left, opening to the page on yarrow. "We can still study here. In case you react again, I do not want such attention on us getting work done."

It was nice to be away from all distractions, but Vittoria lifted her gaze to look at him. "Kilien."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Ah, there it was again. Music to his ears. "See? Familiarity's not so bad..."

"Alright," shifting the basket from a side hutch to the table, he pulled out the remaining potted yarrow and set it aside with greater care, "I'm wagering one of the most potent forms of poisoning is through a tea. What's the book say?"

He could get down to business and work when the subject matter was interesting and the company was good.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"No, a tea is fine, well... perhaps not for you, Basmarc." She had seen how proud he looked when she used his named a second time, and hated how smug he was about it.

Tracing a finger along a paragraph, Vittoria read aloud. "Unless taken in excess, there is an element in yarrow that becomes toxic to any being." As most plants that could heal ended up being. "Would you like me to prepare you a tea? Perhaps we can study how an allergy can affect oneself when it comes to yarrow."

She frowned at him, narrowing her eyes.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Annnnd she's back to surname. His lips pursed into a tight smirk of amusement.

"We already saw what yarrow does to me," he reminded her, how could she possibly forget such a show? Unless she was wanting for a repeat, which he wasn't particularly keen on, "won't be any different as a tea."

Kilien once more withdrew his wand from his jacket and pointed it at the yarrow with a little twist and flick that removed the flowerheads clean from the stalk and left them floating in midair like a school of flower-fish. With a swirl he sent them swimming along, petals fluttering as they swooped around her before depositing themselves into a bowl he set on the table.

"But I can make some tea for you."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria watched as he made the small flowers wrap around her person before being deposited into a bowl she had not used earlier. She lifted her gaze to peer at him, eyes narrowed at his intentions.

"Yarrow used in a tea cannot be consumed more than three cups a day. It is said to help digestion, stomach acod, and fever. Among other things." She lifted a brow inquisitively before looking to her page. "I do not need a tea... but it would be good to report that we have made it and document it."

Rifling through her nag again, she withdrew parchment, a quill, and a pot of ink. Readying the first of their notes, Vittoria then wrote with excellent penmanship Yarrow Tea, and waited for Kilien to begin preparing.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Given that he could not touch the plant without negative effects, he continued the preparations by use of his wand and unspoken magics. These actions not necessitating spells effectively rendered them at zero value, costing him no mana to perform. This was an act of magic as an extension of himself rather than as a tool or a weapon. With a kettle already waiting over on the stove, Kilien stoked the fire in the oven below with more wood and filled the kettle with water from a rain collection barrel just outside.

In little time the water was boiling, so in he poured the flowers to steep alongside a few cuts of root.

"My grandmother taught me how to make tea," he said to her idly with a small but proud little smile, "said there's magic even in that. With the right knowledge one can imbue a tea with greater meaning for stronger effects... and clearer readings."

Rovani did like their esoteric powers.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

With watchful eyes, she made note of each step he did and translated it into written note. There was not much as of yet, but the real work would be to describe the taste of the tea. If only she had a fever, they could test if the tea could very well have a healing effect.

"Are you going to read my tea, Basmarc?" To use his surname again was her way at putting distance between themselves. He was awfully too familiar with her now, and although she did not regret the pancakes, Vittoria was sure that Kilien saw it as a softening on her part.

That would simply not do.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"I could try," he offered with a shrug, "it only really works if you're willing. Reading the leaves of an unwilling party creates bad feedback and interference. Sort of like trying to read a book through scratched lenses."

The kettle was steaming now - nearly ready.

"Ma Paksi was the best at reading tea leaves. She was never wrong."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria hummed.

"Alright then... read my tea leaves." she shrugged, sliding into the seat he had been in previously. Now it was Kilien on the other side of the table to her, tending the stove for something for Vittoria waited patiently for.

Any other being, Vittoria would refuse such an act, but annoyingly enough, Kilien was slowly growing on her. He was not like the others in their class, did not fear her enough to shy away from her. It was unfortunate that he was picking up on her softening ice...

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Yes ma'am," he replied casually as he dipped to the side to prod at the burning timber in the oven's belly to goad the heat on for a little longer. A slow simmering steep made the best tea. Free hand outstretched in a searching manner, the rings on his fingers glinting as he search about for mugs. No such luck - only wooden cups.

"Hmm-" in this instance, transfiguration required far less mana than conjuration, so he set one cup aside and swirled the tip of his wand in its direction. His heavy brow furrowed over his eyes as he concentrated. The cup began to tip, teeter, and rotate on the spot like a weeble wobbling about, its shape growing shorter and squatter. From the side a tendril grew like a finger branch and curled itself about until it connected as a handle.

When the cup finally slowed to a standstill, it were no longer a cup but a mug. Satisfied with his handywork, Kilien moved to set the mug before her on the table and filled it with tea. It was important that she be the first and only one to touch the mug until it was empty.

"Cup both hands around each side," he instructed her, "and let it steep under your nose for a few minutes while it cools."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

His hands were something that caught her attention a few times, curious of the rings adoring his fingers. The only time she tore her eyes from it was to watch a cup turn to a mug. Vittoria leaned froward, arms folded atop the table as she peered over to watch Kilien pour the tea he had prepared for her.

Dutifully, she listened to his instructions. The mug was hot to the touch, and after prolonged touch it began to burn but all she gave away was the biting of her bottom lip as she weathered through it and soon felt it be calm in her grasp. Giving Kilien a look, she pulled the steaming mug closer to her and allowed the steam to warm the front of her face.

Unsure if she should speak, to do anything, Vittoria naturally let her eyes close and focused on the warming cup before her. She was sapping it of it's warmth, inhaling the steam it gave off so easily.

"Tell me when it is ready to drink." She murmured softly, tasting the vapours lifting up to her face. Vittoria still did not open her eyes, but her lashes fluttered as her eyelids twitched. If he tried anything at that moment, she was sure as hells she would cut him with one of the many daggers hidden beneath her skin.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

It was a bit like watching a pit viper curl up on a sun-warmed stone to steal its warmth for the coming evening. Rare moments like these when such dangerous creatures were at ease weren't something he allowed to pass him by readily. Kilien watched her with a steady, easy gaze, taking the time given to him to study her all the more carefully and look upon the lines that created her form with unabashed appreciation.

It had less to do with sexual desire than one would think. Kilien had learned to really look at perceived threats for what they truly were and find the little things about them that made each unique. There were several of note for Vittoria... but also she was really good looking.

When she spoke he blinked away, grasped the handle of the kettle and shifted back across the cabin to set it on the side of the stove where it would no longer simmer.

"Well, Ma Paksi always advised to drink when it would no longer burn your tongue," hands on his hips as he reminisced, he smiled fondly up toward the heavens and lifted those hands into the form of prayer, kissing his fingertips and offering them in respect skyward, "such a pragmatic woman. Dormi liniştit printre stele, Ma."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Unaware of his staring and appreciation, Vittoria exhaled deeply. She rolled her neck, before sitting straight in the chair and inhaled through her mouth. "That would take a long while." She noted, and eventually opened her eyes as she heard hit set aside the kettle.

Despite the warm day outside, Vittoria liked the idea of a hot drink. She preferred to feel the heat, would often ask for a bath to be steaming enough to be too hot on her skin. Vittoria liked drinking her tea when it delivered a burn on her tongue, but if she was going to be willing for him to read for her, then she would listen to his word.

"I do not know that language... Rovani, I take it?" As a child, she had been exposed to learning the Common tongue, Kaliti, Cortosi, and even old and dead languages that no longer graced cities anymore. "You make it sound lovely..." She offered, clearing her throat. Natural, not at all butchered by him.

Something inside her wished she was not finding out all these things about him, to become so familiar of him that she developed a sincerity in getting to know him.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Yes, it might take a bit for the tea to cool on such a warm day when the kettle had so readily come to a boil. Kilien dropped his gaze to look about the kitchen, hands reaching for drawers and the contents therein. Found a spoon - old and tarnished beneath a layer of dust - and pulled out a clean kerchief from another inner pocket of his jacket to buff it with.

"Yeah," he nodded to her guess of his language, an earnest look of warmth filling out his expression at her compliment, "I grew up speaking it. The Rovani language-" Kilien began as he held up the spoon to inspect and found it wanting. It might've been passable for him to use, but it wasn't for a lady with class the likes of Vittoria Larrinth. He didn't have the tools needed to remove the patina, so his wand once more made an appearance. This was a little trickier... what was that spell?

"-is a vector for Rovani emotion. It sounds lovely when it is spoken with love."

Oh, right, Rejuventi Nuva.

He tapped the tip of his wand to the spoon and watched as a swirl of silvery light wrapped around it, cleansing away the weathered marks of its age to make it once more brand new. After a second inspection, he held it out to Vittoria, "Stirring should cool it off faster."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria withdrew one hand from the mu and reached for the cleaned spoon, her palm just touching him and warming his hand as she took the spoon from him and slowly stirred the tea. She watched the tea swirl, careful not to spill any of it.

"Any language sounds soft if spoken in such a way." Although it was foreign to her to even imagine how any tongue would sound when she spoke it in that way. She could not do so in Anirian, even when speaking of what others would speak of with tenderness, like family and childhood memories.

"Do you have any family left, Kilien?" The name slipped out before she could change her mind, and so Vittoria stopped her stirring, lifting the spoon to her mouth to clean and set down on the table. Her hand went back to cupping the mug. "Or is there no one left for you to speak Rovani to?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Ever heard a dwarf recite a love poem in his native tongue?" he smirked and took the seat across from her, lounging comfortably with one arm over the back, the other leaned by elbow on the table, and legs stretched forward, one heel locked over the ankle of the opposite boot.

"Mmm," he pondered that question, lifting the dangling hand to idly rub his pinky finger over his brow, "there's plenty of Rovani around if you know where to find them, but I couldn't tell you who's left of my immediate family. Not seen any of them since before... you know, prison."

There was probably plenty of extended family about. The Basmarc name was a strong one among his ilk and he had plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins to speak of but it had been even longer since he'd seen any of them in person.

"They've likely written me off as dead by now. I wasn't allow to contact them after being released to the Academy," Kilien's brow furrowed at that, nose twitching, "probably better that way."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

She stared at him, listening to him with rapt attention. All she ever had was her father, visiting her cousins every now and then in her younger years. Vittoria was unsure if she felt a sadness for being alone, as she never missed her father, but knew him well enough that he would be proud of her and her achievements, of what she continued to do in order to serve their Great House kin.

"Awful to hear." She said simply, lifting the mug and tilting the tea towards her lip. Still too hot, Vittoria lowered the mug and pursed her lips to be rid of the tea droplet. "But at least you are not the last. Your customs and language would not die with you, I imagine."

At least he was male, could pass down his name. Vittoria was brought up traditionally, to take the name of the family she would marry into, but at least being the only Larrainth by blood gave her the title of Lady and full autonomy of her future.

"My family used to design and build large ships, but the practice and business died a few generations back. Provided many ships in the Virak fleet, and also the Anirian fleet. Not only did our competitors put us out of business, the Larrainths produced many Dreadlords that went to serve the Great Houses, not leaving many behind to learn the ways of our business." In fact, there were a few vessels still in the Larrainth's possession, all now belonging to Vittoria.

"Besides, you make your own family. King is the brother I never had, but many of our peers think we are more than that to each other." When she was eleven, she had broken every bone is Eliza Wylls' hand for suggesting as much the first time.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Naw, plenty of other Rovani to keep the traditions alive..." and that thought did make him happy. Theirs was a people rich in culture, history, and tight family bonds - the Basmarc family wasn't the only one, of course. There were dozens of other bloodlines, royalty even. But they weren't Anirian people and were generally frowned upon in Anirian territories.

Not nearly so badly as elves, but they rated only slightly higher.

Kilien listened contently to Vittoria speak of her House, thinking it all sounded rather fitting for such a proper lady like herself.

"Hm," he smirked slightly at her last comment, lifting a hand to cross middle and pointer fingers, "I noticed you two were always like this. Seemed more like siblings to me. Not too many people here want much to do with the Rovani that got dropped into their class from prison."

His eyes skated around suspiciously, "Do I stink?" he lifted his shirt to sniff at it, "Have I gone nose blind?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"Who knows," Vittoria mused, inhaling her tea, "when was the last time you bathed?"

She peered at him with humour twinkling in her eyes, knowing that her own routine saw her bathing daily as the bath house was available at all hours. Intensive training first, and then a bath. In the winter months, she liked to clean up before bed too. She was not aware if anyone else adhered to such a routine as her, but oftentimes she had the bathing room to herself.

"I would offer to give you a whiff but I have a tea that requires my attention first." And which she lifted to her lips to test if it no longer burned. It was just right, and slowly Vittoria began to sip away at it. "Mm..." It was not sweet, nor too bitter. An acquired taste but she could withstand it without trouble.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

He raised his eyebrows, "...good question."

Kilien didn't exactly keep a routine of that sort of stuff, aside from a good, long soak the morning after a full moon. In between? Sporadic ... maybe once a week? Maybe more if the week was particularly full of sparring sessions where he got his ass kicked. This week had been fairly light on the spars.

He sniffed at himself again, but all he could smell was his own earthy, musky scent with that faint hint of spice. His father smelled like that, too. Whether or not it was offensive for others he could not say. The nose wasn't blind, merely accustomed.

Looking back to her as she supped, Kil briefly wondered if they needed to be taking notes or something.

"How's it taste?"

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

The more she drank, the more the bitterness came out. "Earthy? Bitter, definitely." But her face made no notion of experiencing this. "If I were to serve this to anyone, honey would be needed..." She eyed the small jar in the basket, but did not reach for it. If it interfered with the tea reading, she would rather not sit through another tea brewing to start the process all over again.

"It smells like... anise. Sweet, but the taste ends bitter."

Vittoria set her mug aside, dipping her quill into the inkpot and began scribbling neatly some notes.

"Now, when you applied the yarrow to my wound earlier, how long do you think it took to stop the bleeding?" Head still poised for writing, she lifted her eyes to peer at him through her dark lashes. "Seeing as I cannot use you as an example of our experiment."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Hm," he said in return. Recalling that as a child he'd drank plenty of teas but he could not recall one over the other in any great detail. Just a warmth on the tongue and in the belly. Mostly he remembered the ornate, hand painted tea set that belonged to his grandmother. There was purple in the details.

"Minute or two at most," he turned his recollecting to the more recent and relevant, though he'd admittedly been distracted by the burning in his mouth at the time to have been taking notice of how fast or slow the bleeding had stopped. Minute or two seemed about right.

"Huh," a small smile pushed into the ruff of his face as he watched her scribble, "lookit that purdy handwriting."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"A minute or two?" Vittoria recalled it to be about right, but she wanted precision and accuracy in this report.

Without another word, she took another drink of her tea before reaching forward to the yarrow plant. Plucking yarrow leaves and flowers, Vittoria created two different pastes by chewing. Revisiting her earlier wound, now an angry shallow cut, she reopened it and allowed her blood to bead and pool. On that one, she used the flowers.

Offering Kilien her knife by sliding it on the table, she held her opposite hand towards him. "I need a similar cut. I think we can also test the leaves, to see which of them acts the quickest." Experimentation always intrigued Vittoria, but seeing as her partner was an unreliable test subject, her curiosities would have to be tested upon herself.

"It will not hurt me unless you cut deeper than you are meant to."