Private Tales Of Sand & Dragonfire

[Chaceledon]

Volker was patient while Seteta calmed down Rations. The horse could still clearly smell him, and was shivering as he bound the foot. Volker was grateful for Seteta, truly. He never would have gotten to treat the horse if not for her, and likely would have slaughtered it days ago. Chaceledon was his mother, and he did love him, but he was utterly useless outside of a party. Chaceledon’s use would come into play when they hit the city. Until then? He was a bit of an irritating passenger.

Of course, Seteta had her moments. Like now. He sighed heavily and stood up, pulling the blindfold off Rations. He narrowly avoided a nasty bite aimed for his shoulder, and put some distance between himself and the lame horse. “He is happy to have found a mate and I am happy for him.” Volker told her. He wasn’t about to discuss his personal feelings with her. Not yet. Volker was an incredibly private man, especially when it came to love and his future. He was too afraid to believe in it yet. Talking made it real.

“Have a good evening, Seteta. This is the last time any of us are likely to sleep in a bed for many weeks to come.” He told her, wiping his hands on a cloth. His body language became more relaxed as he did so, and he leaned against the stable door.

“So youre fuckin’ mom, hm?” Aron chuckled. “And here I thought Lansom and Oor were the only kiddy diddlers in the family. Come here girl. If I know Mom, and I know Mom, you need a fucking drink.” He patted down his pockets and sighed. “This one doesn’t smoke either does he? A few thousand years up hell’s asshole and I can’t have a smoke?”

Aron shrugged and threw an arm around Seteta’s shoulders. “You need booze, I need booze...hey. Maybe some of the pets have party favors around here eh? The Anirans wouldn’t have taken it.”

Chaceledon looked up as Seteta was steered back into the inn by...he blinked. “Aron?” He inquired. That wasn’t Volker’s body language, or Klaus’. Aron had been the pugilist of the family; he didn’t use a weapon but rather his fists and legs. Chaceledon only remembered him as the severe alcoholic who had almost died from cirrhosis before the Well could take him.

“Seteta was just showing me to the liquor cellar. We have a deck of cards?”

Chaceledon smiled a bit. “I found a dominoes set.” he offered. “Dont go too mad. Rheinhard is a teetotaler, you’ll only need a glass or two.”

“Challenge heard.” Aron raised a pair of fingers to his brow in a mock salute. “Lead on, sharpear.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"I would have done that if you'd given me the chance," Seteta pointed out as Rheinhard pulled Rations blindfold off and almost got bitten.

“He is happy to have found a mate and I am happy for him.” Volker told her.

"But sometimes our happiness for others compounds our own sadness," Seteta murmured, and if she'd thought Rheinhard would have accepted her comfort, she would have hugged him.

“Have a good evening, Seteta. This is the last time any of us are likely to sleep in a bed for many weeks to come.” He told her, wiping his hands on a cloth.

"Good night, Rheinhard," she whispered, and watched as--despite keeping the same appearance--he became a different person.

“So youre fuckin’ mom, hm?” Aron chuckled. “And here I thought Lansom and Oor were the only kiddy diddlers in the family. Come here girl. If I know Mom, and I know Mom, you need a fucking drink.” He patted down his pockets and sighed. “This one doesn’t smoke either does he? A few thousand years up hell’s asshole and I can’t have a smoke?”

"Ah... technically we haven't fucked." Seteta rolled her eyes but grinned cheekily. "And I'm an elf. For all you know, I could be 200 years old. I doubt there's many creatures that come anywhere near your mother's age, though, so no matter who he got involved with there's going to be a bit of an age difference."

I don't think he realizes I'm probably younger than Rheinhard, though, she cringed silently.

She shook her head at the last question. "I've never seen Rheinhard smoke."

When Aron threw his arm around her shoulders, she arched an eyebrow, but didn't bother to remove it. While it was odd to suddenly be the object of friendly physical affection from Rheinhard's body, it... wasn't Rheinhard.

"Party favors?" she asked as they walked back to the house. "I'm unfamiliar with this term. But there was quite a lot of stuff we salvaged in the pet house."

Chaceledon recognized who was inhabiting Rheinhard's body right away, and Seteta had to admit she'd been impressed with that capability so far. Over 600 children... if he could remember all of their names and mannerisms--and faces, when he was in the Well--that was quite the feat of memory.

“Seteta was just showing me to the liquor cellar. We have a deck of cards?”

Chaceledon smiled a bit. “I found a dominoes set.” he offered. “Dont go too mad. Rheinhard is a teetotaler, you’ll only need a glass or two.”

“Challenge heard.” Aron raised a pair of fingers to his brow in a mock salute. “Lead on, sharpear.”

Seteta laughed and rolled her eyes, then led Aron down the hall toward the cellar door. "I'll be no use to you in there. Pick out whatever you like but, ah..." her face pinked over nicely with a blush "you might want to avoid the buffet table."

Then she bit her lip and turned away, walking back to the main sitting room. She bent over and pressed a kiss to Chaceledon's cheek, then sat next to him and snuggled into his side. "What's dominoes?" she asked.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Aron laughed. “You’ve never had a party favor eh? Well allow me to introduce you.” He said with a snicker. “There’s this one called Divine Messenger. Knocked me on my ass when I tried it. But absolutely fantastic hallucinations. I did a tournament high off my tits. Remember that, eh Mom?” He ruffled Seteta’s hair and headed downstairs to the cellar.

“I remember you puking in a High Lord’s favorite vase!” Chaceledon called after him, and welcomed Seteta against his side. He kissed her cheek, then leaned in conspiratorially. “Aron broke his knee fighting in Amol-Kalit. Even though Rheinhard has two very good knees, he still favors it. That’s how I knew.” Chaceledon smiled and showed her the box, selecting a domino to show her. It was a gorgeous quartz set, with gold paint to show the dots. “So how you play dominos...well there are several games you can play, like a deck of cards, but I’ll go over Elven Orgy. You draw seven, like so. Now whomever has the largest double tile lays down first. The other players connect to him, thus the name. You match up all your tiles, on one side or another, with your chain. Lay them all down, you win. Can’t lay anything down? You draw.” Chaceledon explained patiently.

Aron came back up with a bottle of whiskey, swigging heavily from the bottle. “Mom’s forgetting a rule. You draw a tile you take a shot.” He set down three shot flutes, setting one in front of Seteta and another in front of Chaceledon. “Mom’s brutal at this game.”

Chaceledon made a dismissive noise. “Dont be silly I lost to Ferenzi all the time. You were good at Twenty-One.” he smiled at Seteta, and slid a portion of the dominos pile at her.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"Elven Orgy?" Seteta chuckled, mouth twisting mischievously as she thought of the... escapades in the cellar earlier. "Seems like something you've probably done a hundred different ways."

She reached for one of the dominoes curiously, the smile on her face shifting to one of odd contentment as she stroked the surface of the quartz. "They're lovely," she murmured quietly, then returned it to the set. "Sounds simple enough, though."

“Mom’s forgetting a rule. You draw a tile you take a shot.” He set down three shot flutes, setting one in front of Seteta and another in front of Chaceledon. “Mom’s brutal at this game.”

Chaceledon made a dismissive noise. “Dont be silly I lost to Ferenzi all the time. You were good at Twenty-One.” he smiled at Seteta, and slid a portion of the dominos pile at her.

"Brutal, hm?" she hummed, casting a heated glance at Chaceledon over her shoulder as she counted out her seven dominoes and returned the extras to the pile. Carefully, without allowing Chaceledon an opportunity to peak, she checked her dominoes. "Double tile means the same number of dots on each side, yes?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“Yes. Highest double lays down first, but if you’ve got a lower one than twelve, you can put it in your branch and effectively make a trident, playing off three sides of the double.” Chaceledon explained. He smirked at her. “Like some of the orgies I went to in my youth, it’s not all about one central person.”

“Bullshit, Mom. I have a hard time believing you’d play second fiddle to anyone.” Aron chuckled, and poured shots for them. He took his own before refilling the glass. “Well I don’t have the double twelve. Ladies?”

“None here.” Chaceledon said lightly, looking expectantly at Seteta. “If no one has it we go to double eleven, double ten, you get the idea.”

Aron rummaged around in his pockets and set a handful of items on the table. “Found a stash box in the cellar. Looks like we have some Divine Messenger, some Flydust, packet of hemp chocolates...”

“Gods’ sake man.” Chaceledon gave him a stern look. “You stash that right back where you found it. Alcohols going to mess with the boys enough, the last thing I need is Aluid on Divine Messenger. Or Klaus for that matter.”

“Wet blanket.” Aron muttered as he gathered up the vial, dust packet, and small bag of chocolates. He caught the look Chaceledon was giving him. “But a nice blanket, something made out of silk.”

“Decent recovery.” Chaceledon said with a knowing smile, leaning over slightly to kiss the top of Seteta’s head. It was easy to forget Oor had just barged in when things were like this. Peaceful, with people he loved. Aron was uncouth but he at least knew how to relax. Seteta snuggled up against his side, arm thrown lazily over her, was perfect. He nuzzled her a moment, eyes closed and enjoying the closeness.

Aron snuck her a hemp chocolate with a wink, and popped one in his mouth.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta laughed softly as Aron poked fun at his mother. "Well, so far in my experience, he gives as good as he gets, so I doubt anyone would leave an orgy with him dissatisfied."

She quickly checked her dominoes to make sure she remembered correctly.

"Hm, well I don't have double-twelve, -eleven, or -ten, but I do have double-nine," Seteta murmured, glancing at the other two to see if they had any of the others.

She snuggled a little closer into Chaceledon's side when he kissed the top of her head. He was so tall that when she sat in his lap, his chin just barely bumped against the top of her head, and she had to admit that she quite liked being enveloped by him.

Aron passed her a chocolate and she eyed it curiously. "Will this interact much with the... other thing we took earlier?" she asked Chaceledon. While she didn't mind getting high, she wanted to be able to still think somewhat reasonably.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Aron pulled a face. “Alright alright that’s my mother we’re talking about. Besides not all of us in here are gay, last thing I want to think about is mom naked.” He waited patiently as Seteta put down the 9, then played a tile to his side. Chaceledon did the same, and they waited for Seteta. Aron sighed when Seteta held up the chocolate and Chaceledon gently took it from her, setting it on the table.

“Woman if I pass you something under the table it’s a secret. Where the hell’d you pick this one up?” Aron chuckled to himself and played his turn. Chaceledon smiled down at Seteta.

“Not all of us are raised in seedy underground crime syndicates, dear.” the dragon said fondly. “She’s honest.”

“Well we’ve got to train her out of that.” Aron grinned and watched Chaceledon take a tile from the bone pile, then down a shot. The dragon winced.

“What is this?”

“Whiskey.”

“I had another thought, koiros. Would you be willing to spend some time with the boys learning combat? You’ll need it if your magic fails.” Chaceledon told her, after he’d recovered from the gut rot he’d just swallowed.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta laughed softly as Aron backtracked from the sex discussions, but mouthed a quiet sorry over the table when Chaceledon confiscated the chocolate. She quietly played her tile.

"We already took something earlier," Seteta explained. "Some pink stuff the Myconid's make. I haven't actually caught the name of it yet. With magic going weird at times, I don't want to be too compromised."

"Not much for whiskey, I take it?" Seteta said with amusement as she watched Chaceledon grimace after having to draw from the pile. "So if we do have to draw, if the new tile doesn't fit anywhere, do we keep drawing or miss a turn?"

Not that she needed to draw yet, and she quietly set another one of her tiles down as Chaceledon made his discomfort with the liquor quite clear.

“I had another thought, koiros. Would you be willing to spend some time with the boys learning combat? You’ll need it if your magic fails.” Chaceledon told her, after he’d recovered from the gut rot he’d just swallowed.

She glanced up at Chaceledon and nodded. "It would probably be wise," she agreed. "I know the basics already, but I relied on my magic a lot in Amol-Kalit. Probably more than I should have."

Then her gaze turned curious. "But what does koiros mean? You called me that earlier too."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“Ah, Pink Slipper. The expensive de rigeur drink of the rich when they want to fuck all day.” Aron smirked. “Didn’t see the bottle down there though. I’m guessing it’s already in your stash, Mom. But he’s got a point, you took that you definitely don’t need any cannabis.” He took her chocolate and downed it before Chaceledon could stop him.

“Oh for...” Chaceledon rolled his eyes. “Rheinhard is going to kill me.”

“You draw once and skip your turn.” Aron told Seteta helpfully, playing his turn and letting Chaceledon play his. “See if you skip, people can play on you, so you might not need to draw a tile the second time round.” The man smirked wryly at the elf. “Boy’s’ll be happy to have you in the Arena for a bit of a scrap. They’re already going to be lining up.”

“Koiros is draconian for ‘sweetling’.” Chaceledon clarified as he put down a tile, smiling at her. “What about you two fight in the morning? Before breakfast?”

“And no worries Mom, she’ll not come out of it with more than a nosebleed hand to gods.” Aron mentioned.

“She better not. I want Ferenzi standing by officiating. You boys get carried away with new people.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Sweetling, hm? Seteta thought with a smile as she played another tile from her stash, then dubiously eyed her few remaining ones. She hadn't had to draw yet, and it seemed like they might betray her at any moment because of it.

"Sparring before breakfast?" she murmured, glancing up coyly at Chaceledon as she trailed her fingers up his thigh. "Guess you're going to have to wake up extra early for the other things I wanted to do before breakfast too."

Part of her was anxious about sparring in the Well. What if Oor was there? But she'd mention that to Chaceledon later, when they were going to bed.

"I know the Volkers can't incur injury in the Well, since they're, well, already dead," she grimaced slightly, hoping that it wasn't a big deal to say that in front of Aron. "What about me? I'm still very much alive. Will any injuries I acquire in there transfer to my actual body?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“If the goal is to get me to vomit youre halfway there.” Aron chuckled and drew, taking his requisite shot. Chaceledon laid down another piece, distracted by his lover’s implication. He wouldn’t mind having her again. It was a strange idea, having a partner he didn’t have to be afraid of, and looked forward to. He toyed with a strand of her hair while they played, relaxed and happy.

“Not in the Arena. Arena’s death proof. Makes sure we can’t pull any punches.” Aron mentioned. “Who was it, Bruha who killed his own son before he could inherit the Well? Since then, Arena’s the safe spot. If we injure each other outside the Arena, we don’t heal. Just kinda get to gurgle on your own blood until Oor shows up to fix you. Or crawl into the Arena to have it fix you. So we get you in, run ya right to the Arena, you’re safe.”

Chaceledon nodded. “I’ll let Volker and Ferenzi escort you. If Oor shows up, I want Rheinhard to kick you out as fast as humanly possible.”

“Oor can’t keep you in the Well if you want to leave. It’s about the only thing he can’t do. To visitors anyway. We’re stuck.” Aron smirked. “Hand to hand isn’t common in Arethil, least from what I remember. If we’re stuck in a jam, your own feet and hands are better than any blade.”

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta smirked at Aron's comment about vomiting, then leaned her head against Chaceledon's shoulder with a quiet sigh as he toyed with her hair. She'd thought the same about her parents' fond affections once, but now was grateful for having seen them. Of knowing what a healthy relationship between mates should be.

Then she scowled as she examined the dominoes on the table. Hers has betrayed her at last, and doubly so because she was loathe to move from her spot against Chaceledon.

So instead, she turned her attention back to the conversation about the Well and its Arena, nodding as she listened to show she understood.

"If Oor can't force me to stay in, then is it possible to pull myself out of the Well without Rheinhard's assistance? If so, I'd like to learn that first."

Finally, she gave an annoyed sigh. "Will one of boys hand me a tile from the spares, and my shot?" Chaceledon's arms were long enough that he should be able to reach them without dislodging her from her spot.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

“Unfortunately, no. We do occasionally like to kill people there. Perfect assassination for the right situation; all we have to do is get our jaws around someone’s mouth...and no matter how skilled you are, you can’t defeat six hundred men.” Aron shook his head. “Bad way to die.”

Chaceledon smiled and picked her a tile as though he were presenting her with jewelry. A gentle selection with his fingers, a short flip of his hand, and he offered it to her perfectly balanced on the tip of a finger. “For you, koiros miandre. Beloved sweetling.” he kissed her hair, and Aron poured her a shot.

“Down the hatch! You’ve got three more to catch up on.” Aron laughed. He poured himself one and clinked it against hers. “Hatat!”

“I absolutely regret teaching you dragon drinking songs.” Chaceledon snickered.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta's nose scrunched at Aron's description of dying in the Well. "Sounds quite miserable," she agreed.

She laughed softly when she plucked her new tile from where Chaceledon presented it to her, perfectly balanced on its corner on his fingertip. A warm smile crossed her face as Chaceledon kissed her hair again and called her beloved.

"Thank you, sehejib," she murmured, stretching up to press a soft kiss to his jaw, then reached over for the shot glass.

"Hatat?" she asked curiously, tipping back her shot and easily downing it. She could feel the Pink Slipper's effects becoming duller now that several hours had passed, but it was still affecting her just enough that the alcohol burned her throat more than expected, then her eyes widened, and she quietly bit her lip to hold in a cough. Maybe not the Pink Slipper, she realized, but what happened after drinking it...

“I absolutely regret teaching you dragon drinking songs.” Chaceledon snickered.

"You don't sound like you regret it," Seteta chimed in once she'd delicately cleared her throat.

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Aron grinned at her and set his last tile down. “I win. You got distracted by your koiros.” He laughed, and Chaceledon blinked at his tiles. Well, he’d lost. Not by much but it was still a loss. He shook his head and smiled. Alright, so he was a little off guard and rusty. Aron cleared a spot and refilled he and Seteta’s shot glasses.

“Right. Speaking of dragon drinking games...wanna learn one?” He asked with a mischievous grin. “Simple rules. We both say a rhyme. You mess up, we drink, we say it again faster. I mess up, we drink, we say it faster. Want to play?”

Chaceledon laughed and kissed her. “You might want to sit up for this, Seteta.” He said playfully.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

"What?" Seteta scowled at the table. She was certain she'd been well in the lead, and her eyes narrowed at Aron slightly, before whispering to Chaceledon, "Are you sure he didn't cheat? I feel like I missed a turn or two somewhere."

She dropped it with a playful smile, though, quirking an eyebrow as Aron described the game. She had no particular preference either way--though if she hadn't been cozily tucked into her dragon's embrace, she would have happily joined the game--but when Chaceledon laughed and kissed her, she realized that he was truly having fun with all of this, and how could she say no?

"Fine," she said, straightening up and shifting away from Chaceledon, though reluctantly. "What's this rhyme I need to learn?"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon laughed and slapped the table. “He’s a terrible cheat!” He laughed, and put his arms around Seteta when she turned toward Aron. He kissed the back of her neck, holding her lazily as Aron turned toward her properly and set out the rules of the game.

“So it’s a rhyme game yeah? Draconian is a tongue twister language even to dragons. So we say it together slowly, and if you skip a beat or trip, you drink. Mom’s a native speaker so he’ll be the judge.” Aron grinned. “Gotta do the hand motions too.”

“Ah zicc co mact fess, ghosha kirka - kasha zicc!” He held up eight fingers for ‘mact fess’, then imitated horns for ‘ghosha kirka’.

“One spider with eight less, painted horns - what a big spider.” Chaceledon translated, mimicking the cadence of the rhyme.

“Dosha shi, erosay gi,” Aron squinted one eye then another.

“Blinking eyes, shrinking head,”

“Paya, paya osayi,” Aron mimed the skitter of a spider with his fingers.

“Crawling, crawling everywhere.”

“Fset ca Fset, ghi sa yi?” Aron held out two fingers to Seteta.

“Two and Two, who should drink?”

“Vaca ca vaca, ghi yi ha?” His hand went back to touch his chest, then three fingers held out to her.

“Three and three, who drinks first?”

“Jho ca jho, ghi sa yi?”

“Five and five, who should drink? It seems simple until it starts going very fast.” Chaceledon said playfully. “Say the whole thing for her, dear. Slowly. Then you both say it together.”

“Ah zicc co mact fess, ghosha kirka - kasha zicc!
Dosha shi, erosay gi,
Paya, Paya osayi.
Fset ca Fset, ghi sa yi?
Vaca ca vaca, ghi yi ha?
Jho ca jho, ghi sa yi?
Kisse ca kisse, ghi yi ha?
Fa ca fa, ghi sa yi?
Ohmeta ca fa, ghi yi ha?”

Aron snickered. “Come on, say it with me. I’ll start slow.” He held up eight fingers, waiting for Seteta to be ready.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta hummed happily at the feel of Chaceledon's lips on the back of her neck as his arms settled loosely around her.

She watched and listened as Aron and Chaceledon explained the rhyme and hand motions, but when Chaceledon began to translate it, she was in stitches of laughter by the end.

"Of all the things in the world, the dragons chose to make a drinking song about a spider?" she asked, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Dragons aren't scared of spiders, are they?"

Then she eyed Aron, rolled her eyes and held up her fingers. She made him go through the motions a few times, as well as the rhyme, pointing out that this was the first time in her life she'd heard any substantial amount of draconian and it was no fair pitting her against an expert.

Finally, she gave a determined nod, and said, "All right. I'm ready." Pinning Aron with a hopefully intimidating glare, she held up eight fingers, and they started.

The softer sounds were harder for her. There were fewer of them in Abtat, which hardly sounded elvish at all. However, by the third time Chaceledon called her out for skipping a beat, she aimed a vicious elbow for his ribs.

"Do you intend to have me passed out drunk all night and then sparring in the morning?" she turned to him with fond exasperation etched across her face. "He cheated at dominoes, you should at least be on my side now!"

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Aron laughed, and Chaceledon made a little huffing sound. “Dragons don’t fear anything.” Chaceledon commented archly. He cuddled down with her to watch her go through the rhyme with Aron. It warmed his heart to watch his lover and one of his sons play. To her credit, she kept up with Aron. Chaceledon didn’t play favorites at all, and handed her third shot to her with a small smile on his face.

He made a distinct oof sound when a sharp little elbow found his ribs. “Sollda!” he swore with a laugh. “How dare you imply I would impugne the honor of a beloved draconian pastime? I am a fair and impartial judge.” Chaceledon was grinning and his tone playful. He planted a kiss to the side of her neck.

“Here let’s make it fair, I’ll take one with you.” Aron tinked a shot glass against hers and down his gullet it went. “One more, fset haiyo.” He held up his fingers.

This time, the chocolates were clearly affecting Aron. He was giggling, and he stumbled several times. He took two shots himself before Seteta had to take hers, and this time Chaceledon joined her. It was a storm of drinking that became less of a rhyme and more of a fever pitch shouting match.

“Damn!” Aron laughed as Seteta finished the rhyme, but he stumbled. He took his shot. “You’ve learned how to count to ten in draconian!” He playfully grabbed her cheeks and went in for a kiss. Playful, not in the slightest way sexual, but Aron was an affectionate creature in the ways Rheinhard wasn’t.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta could practically feel the contentment radiating out of Chaceledon, and she was relieved that he was able to recapture it after Oor's interruption earlier. She shivered when he kissed her neck, heat spiraling into her stomach again, but she made herself concentrate on the game.

It was good to laugh with others, and she did so triumphantly when she finally finished the rhyme a full time through without tripping herself up--though no one was hardly able to tell through all the shouting--and returned Aron's playful peck with ease. Before he pulled away completely, she rested a palm against the side of his face and pulled him down to press a kiss to his forehead.

"That one's for Rheinhard," she whispered, her voice just a little sad. "Because I don't think he'll let me do it when he's in control."

Then she plopped back onto the couch, settling her head in Chaceledon's lap and looked up at him with a pout. "Sehejib, I am terribly thirsty. For water."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Aron smiled when she kissed his forehead and patted her cheek. No, she was right, Rheinhard would have bitten her. Many of the Volkers had issues with personal space; it was a side effect of having very little contact. No matter how much Chaceledon had tried to raise them with affection, Oor had torn it apart at every turn. Aron had hated the man he became in life. He was determined to be a better one in death.

Chaceledon scooped Seteta up into his arms with a fond kiss, and staggered to his feet. “Don’t drop her.” Aron chuckled, settling back on the couch with the last of the whiskey bottle on his belly. Chaceledon gave him a smile, and headed upstairs. He would get her all the water she wanted from the kitchen spigot...after he settled her in their warm, comfortable bed.

He fell asleep with his arms around her, head nuzzled fondly into the crook of her neck. He felt so calm, so happy. Even with Oor on their trail...it was the happiest he’d been for a long time.

____________________________

Morning brought headaches. Rheinhard stumbled off the couch and barely made it out the back door before he began vomiting. Aron had drank an entire two bottles to himself, hemp, and a short sniff of Divine Messenger before bed. Rheinhard had never taken any substance in his life barring a small glass of champagne Chaceledon had snuck him once. He groaned and vomited up bile into the grass, and staggered back inside.

He washed his mouth out, drank deeply, and sat down. Gods. That was the last time he let an alcoholic take the body in a pet house. The rest of the Well wasn’t faring any better. The cotton headed feeling was dying away, but it made all of them feel as though they were walking in soupy air. The hemp had made them temporarily dumb, and the alcohol had caused the Well to tilt madly as though the entire thing were a game board lifted up by a bored child.

Rheinhard looked out the kitchen door. It was early. Very early. His normal time to rise. He had time to bathe, wash his clothing, and get himself together before Chaceledon rose. He did so, bathing and shaving in the water before using it to clean his clothes. Rheinhard was notoriously cagey out of them, and walked around uncomfortably in a bathrobe before he just dressed in his damp clothes again.

Chaceledon took one look at the light streaming from the window and put a pillow over his head. “That is the last time Aron cons me into playing that stupid game.” he muttered under his breath.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta giggled as Chaceledon kissed her and scooped her up in his arms, giving a friendly wave to Aron as she was carried away. She gasped and squealed at one point and whispered, just a little a dramatically, "Yes, please don't drop me!"

When they reached the stairs, though, she eyed them dubiously. "Chaceledon... I think you should let me walk up the stairs," she insisted. "We really don't need any broken necks, limbs, or concussions."

It took a little time--there were more than a few pauses for stumbling and kissing--but eventually, they were settling into their room and Seteta was stripping off her clothing and crawling into the bed as she waited for Chaceledon to bring water. Between the champagne, the Pink Slipper, and the whiskey, she honestly couldn't remember when she'd had some water last and she was parched. When Chaceledon returned--with the pitcher she'd asked for, not just a single glass--she drank a few glasses herself, and forced him to drink at least one.

"Come, sehejib," she whispered once she set aside the glass, spreading her arms wide as the down quilt fell away to bare her breasts. "I've warmed the bed for you."

When they finally settled in for sleep--which was, in all honestly, not much later because they were both a bit tipsy--Seteta softly combed her fingers through Chaceledon's hair as he cuddled into her side. His breath was warm against her neck, and she gently draped her legs over his.

How have you wound your way around my heart so tightly, so quickly? she thought as she turned her head and pressed a gentle kiss to the bridge of his nose. She yawned quietly, and settled her head back against the pillow to sleep.



Seteta stirred in the morning when she heard Rheinhard begin moving around downstairs, wincing a little when she heard him retch outside. She didn't know if he'd been informed about the sparring yet, but he was clearly not in any shape for it at the moment, so she just rolled over and tucked her face into Chaceledon's chest and went back to sleep.

The room was bright the next time she opened her eyes to the sound of Chaceledon muttering. She stretched and looked over at him, then laughed when she saw a pillow covering his head.

She rolled over, pushed the covers aside, and began scattering kisses across his chest. "Time to wake up, Chaceledon," she teased. "I apparently have to go spar soon, since before breakfast was your idea. So you should help me warm up."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon felt the smattering of kisses across his chest and smirked under the pillow. He pulled it away from his face and guided her up to kiss him. “You need to get dressed in something comfortable and go spar. I need a bath, tend to my nails and these feet are horrendous. If I have to live without hair oils I’ve got to plan.” he said playfully, sitting up and arching his back in a stretch. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked down at her. He smiled softly. “I can’t remember being this happy. Even before Oor.” he said, and took her hand. He kissed the back of it, and stood to wrap a robe around his body.

He was going to have a luxurious bath.
Rheinhard was finishing brushing his teeth, and tossed him an extra pot of tooth powder. “I doubt there are any places to purchase it between here and Pedeo. That has oil of mint in it.” Rheinhard mentioned, and Chaceledon opened the tin to have a sniff.

“Oh thank the gods.” he muttered, and turned on the spigot for the hot water. Rheinhard rinsed his mouth, and headed into the main room to wait for Seteta. When she was ready, his freshly cleaned mouth would go over her eyes.

The Well was far from peaceful. The sunroom was shattered, pieces of it still spinning off into endless void, and it was slowly knitting itself back together. Like a wound closing, furniture melded into one piece and glass un-shattered.

The Arena looked fine, and there was indeed a crowd in the stands. All of the remnants had decided to attend, with Aluid sitting by a huge chalk scoreboard that read “Home” on one side and “Visitor” on the other. He flipped a piece of chalk in his hand, a grin on his face. Aron was out on the sands stretching.

The Drunken Master looked far different from Rheinhard. He was short, barely five foot six, thin, and bound in tough muscle. His nose had been shattered a dozen times over, and his short hair showed off cauliflower ears. Scars mottled his shirtless body, but the ice blue eyes that were the Volker calling card were bright and playful.

Seteta

 

[Seteta]

Seteta nibbled at Chaceledon's lips, then pouted when he pushed her away and told her to go spar. She leaned back against the pillows for a moment, the heat in her eyes obvious as she watched him stretch, and smiled when he kissed her hand.

"Fine, go do your beauty things," she huffed, giving his hip a playful nudge with her toes as she rolled out of bed behind him.

Quickly shuffling through one of the piles of clothing they'd sorted out the day before, Seteta found a soft green pair of pants that flowed loosely around her legs and hit her just above the ankles, a loose blue top that barely covered her midriff when she stood at her full height and definitely wouldn't if she stretched, and a length of fabric that would work to bind her breasts. She didn't normally bother to do so, but for a planned sparring session, she would.

After dressing, she combed her hair and braided it tightly against the back of her head, coiling the loose end and pinning it up securely. She didn't bother with a headscarf for now. She would practice with one on more at a later time, since it did impede her vision slightly, but for learning she preferred to not lose her peripheral vision.

She headed downstairs and met Rheinhard in the main room, not bothering with shoes. Her beloved moccasin boots had been ruined in the swamps, beyond repair, and bare feet were better than unfamiliar shoes for something like this. Especially since the Arena wasn't exactly... real. Not in the same way the world around her was.

Seteta braced herself as Rheinhard's mouth covered her eyes, felt that odd tug in her stomach that normally didn't bother her much but on an empty stomach after a night of drinking it was a bit more intense. When they settled inside the Well, Seteta winced at the sight of everything as Rheinhard led her into the Arena.

"Is this what happens whenever someone in the Well gets drunk or high?" she murmured.

When they stepped into the Arena, Seteta was surprised at the size of the gathered crowd, but she just smiled and waved to Aluid, eyeing the black board with white markings curiously. Clearly, it was some sort of script, but it wasn't one she knew how to read, and she wasn't quite sure what the purpose of it was.

She met her... challenger? Tutor? Some strange mix of both? in the center of the Arena, and realized she recognized the playful glint in his blue eyes.

"Aron?" she asked with a smile. "I see we are at least evenly matched in height."

Chaceledon

 

[Chaceledon]

Chaceledon chuckled and settled into the bath, leaning over to watch Rheinhard embrace Seteta and bring her into the Well. He had every faith in his son, and he was happy that the boys trusted her enough. It was a dangerous thing to visit the Volker family, and one should never do it lightly. Well, Chaceledon did, but he had experience with the spell and some authority over his multitude of children.

In the Well, Rheinhard nodded to Seteta when she pointed out the fragmenting. “All of us go numb. I did not appreciate Aron taking advantage of a small amount of freedom. It won’t happen again.” He told her, his voice cold. He relaxed a bit when her feet hit the sands, and settled against the wall beneath the stands. He would be an observer, and the one to pull her out if she needed it. Essentially, he was the referee. Aluid waved enthusiastically at her.

Aron pulled her into an embrace and grinned. “Good to see you in here.” He patted her cheek roughly. “Right, so what we’re going to do is get you used to dying. Hardest thing to get used to in here. The point being, you have to learn how to face the most lethal situations without panicking. So when I kill you, I want you to hold that instinct back. Breathe in, and slip into death.”

Aron held out a fist. “Ready?”

Seteta