Private Tales Read between the lines

[Zana]

"You think I'm scared of the Guards?" she gave him a hauty look and arched a brow and for a moment she might have even looked convincing in her snobbish outrage. But the mask shattered first with the amusing twinkle in her eyes and then the quirk of her lips that brought out subtle dimples in her cheeks. She ran a hand through her hair to curl a stand behind her ear.

"It's going to be dangerous for me whatever I do Talus," her voice softened somewhat. His concern for her was appreciated but he would run himself ragged with worry for her if she let him start down that path. "I am quite comfortable with my future and how I meet my end. The journey is what is important and who I can help along the way."

 

[Talus]

"You will not have to worry about the Guard as long as I am a part of it." He knew that she was joking, but he wanted to make that clear.

Perhaps it was just his own morality, or something he needed her to know. If she was going to do this, if she was going to offer her help, then he needed to know he trusted her. A foolish gesture to most Dreadlords, but maybe she'd see it for what he was.

A hand offered. "You may be resigned to your end."

He frowned.

"But I am not." He would never be.

 

[Zana]

She played with a smile as he gave her a vow of safety. It was sweet that he thought she needed it but she wasn't going to offend him by rebuking it. Zana was a Level Two Dreadlord now before it took into account her gifts with foresight. She wouldn't be easy pickings for anyone. Though... again... he had seen her not too long ago crying tears of blood and barely able to stand. Of course he might think she would need his protection. She was about to say something in order to assure him she would be more than fit enough to take care of herself when he held out his hand.

For a moment Zana stared at it. She was of course familiar with the idea of it but she hadn't ever had one offered to her.

"I could give you a very wise old sounding quip about avoiding ones destiny," she didn't take her eyes off his hand as she spoke as if he might retract it at the moment she looked away. "But I will let you dream for the both of us," she slowly raised her hand and then took his in a firm hold. Then she pulled herself towards him to brush her lips against his cheek in a feather light caress.

"Thank you, Talus," she whispered the words in his ear whilst she was there before standing up. "Do you want any more tea?"

 

[Talus]

Talus was taken aback by the gesture, shocked in fact. He blinked suddenly, looking like a doe caught within the lamplight. As she stood he was dumbfounded, though he quickly cleared his throat and answered. "No."

He denied her quietly.

One of the problems growing up a Dreadlord was the fact that social graces and custom were almost entirely lost upon you. It was no different for Talus. He had never really been one for the outside world. The Guard had helped him, but not in situations like this.

"I've been here rather long already." He finally said.

Originally he'd been returning from a mission, Aldwaith would still be waiting for him. The General was a patient man.

 

[Zana]

Zana managed to keep her face composed despite the humour it provided her to see him so distressed at the fleeting kiss. She wondered what he would have done if she had chosen his lips instead. She collected her own cup and went back to the small kitchen area where she poured herself another tea, having left it on the stove to keep warm. She glanced up from what she was doing when he announced he had been here a long time and she half raised an eyebrow, having expected to see him standing and making for the door.

Instead he looked pretty comfortable in her chair. Her lips curved slightly at the corner but she made no comment.

"Damsels in distress are what the guards deal with right? You were just doing your civic duty."

 

[Talus]

Talus cleared his throat, realizing that he had spoken but not actually moved to leave. What the hell was wrong with him?

"No." The young Dreadlord said as he pushed himself up out of the chair, deciding that he would at least do that much. "That's just me."

Talus was never much one for jokes, but he was trying his hardest lately.

He still did not move to leave.

It was difficult, he thought, not because of the kiss but because of what he might have found in her; someone else who wanted what he did. She might have been tired, she might have thought him a dreamer and a fool, but she could at least understand it.

Talus did not think anyone ever would, the least of all another Dreadlord.

 

[Zana]

A soft laugh mingled with the sounds of her kitchen activities at his humble admission.

"Then I guess I should be glad you were out looking at peoples souls," if she had been on her own in that bookshop she wondered how the situation would have differed. Perhaps she would have been more careful about picking up the book for one thing instead of grabbing it to make a hasty retreat from annoying questioning. Or, she would have probably ended up sleeping it off in the doorway of a shop.

Grey, disturbed by the fact he was being left out with all of the humans standing, jumped down from his spot on the sofa to go and find his ball for Talus again. Zana watched him in mild amusement then raised her eyes to Talus as she sipped her new cup of tea.

"You don't have to go," she spoke the words softly. She had been looking for a reaction with the kiss but she meant these words. It was a relief to be entirely herself with someone at last. From the majority of her House she had to keep her gifts a secret and then from the handful of individuals who knew about that she now had to keep the secret of the deal she had struck which had apparently lost her a part of her soul. "Or... if you need to report in you can come back. Why don't you let me cook you dinner as a thank you?"

Grey dropped the ball at Talus' feet and sat, tail thumping against the ground.

 

[Talus]

Talus hesitated. He was not sure what to say or do.

The mission had been important, but not life threatening nor truly urgent. His fingers curled into a fist, and then slowly unfurled as he thought about what to do.

Earlier he had spoken to Zana about choice. About how he had wanted to be a pawn or a drone, about how he wanted to make his own decisions. Now that he was faced with another one, the young Dreadlord was terrified with making the wrong choice.

He found himself at a crossroads, oddly placed between his sense of duty and an innate desire that had grown almost daily.

Finally, after what seemed like an age he answered. "Alright."

For some reason as soon as he said the word he felt an odd sense of relief. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He glanced down at the dog by his feet, frowning for a second and wondering what kind of change this decision would bring for him. Then he reached down and once again tossed the ball, almost as if it were his only escape from not having to make yet another choice.

 

[Zana]

For a man who had been confident in cornering and questioning a Dreadlord he hadn't known the abilities of, he was awfully unsure of himself in less dangerous situations. Unless of course he didn't trust her fully yet and was debating whether or not she was going to poison him with her cooking. She continued to blow on and sip at her tea as she waited for his answer, though when it came she was still left a little unsure as to what exactly he was agreeing to. Staying, or dinner, or both? She raised an eyebrow that urged him to clarify when he bent to pick up the ball and throw it. Grey went hurtling after it, skidded as he hit one of the rugs on the smooth wooden floor and let out a small yelp as he careened into the side of the wall, before pushing off and back after the ball.

"Idiot," she shook her head at the pup as he came trotting back to drop the ball at Talus' feet again. "I'm going to go put on some actual clothes," Zana set down her mug and then hitched up her make shift blanket dress. "Try to keep him from destroying the place," she motioned to the dog before starting up the stairs. She paused then turned back to him. "You know, if you're staying, you don't need to wear your armour in the house. My promise not to try not to stab you still stands," she gave him a crooked smile before disappearing upstairs.

 

[Talus]

"Now I just feel like you want me to strip for you" Talus jested after her before she moved up the stairs, trying to break some of the awkwardness that he felt.

It was something that he'd learned from Donric. The man had a habit of never feeling even a moment of trepidation, something that Talus was impressed by. He'd figured it was his constant humor that kept him going, though it might have been age too.

Talus hoped it was the former.

Jokes weren't exactly his forte, but he was getting better. He'd even managed to check out a book from the Archives, written by some sort of bard who'd been Court Jester for a King in Oban.

It was helping.

 

[Zana]

Laughter trailed down from the stairs after his words before she disappeared into one of the rooms upstairs.

It didn't take her very long to change into something more comfortable and suitable for company rather than a blanket. When she clattered her way back down the stairs it was in a pair of comfortable looking leggings and a long knitted jumper. Clearly she had no plans of setting foot back outside today because it was distinctly not what Dreadlords wore in public. Especially because the jumper was patterned. She'd undone her braid which had been coming apart anyway and her still slightly damp hair fell down to the small of her back in soft curls and waves.

Her eyes roamed over the fallen books where Grey had clearly run into the bookcase on one of his laps of the room.

"Having fun?" a soft laugh as the dog bounded back over to her now she had returned to demand a fuss.

 

[Talus]

During her time upstairs Talus had indeed followed Zana suggestion.

The armor he wore had been slowly taken off, though the clothes he had on underneath weren't really much to speak of. Most of it was still somewhat soaked, a ragged white shirt that was stained with dirt and a pair of trousers that were much the same.

His mission had taken him far, and he'd not had much time for rest or sleep during the storm.

Of course, even without his armor Talus still seemed more than a little rigid. His back was still straight, eyes sharp as ever, and it was difficult to tell if he still felt uncomfortable or if this was just how he always was. Still, at least he didn't look like he was ready to fight in a war.

The clothes at least meant he was trying.

He had also elected not to sit on her furniture now that his dirty clothes would stain them, and had instead elected to lean against a nearby doorway.

 

[Zana]

Zana took the last few steps slow as she noticed where he was leaning and came to a stop to raise an eyebrow at him, a bemused expression playing across her face.

"Are you attempting to prop up my doorway...?" it was a comment on both the fact he wasn't sat in a chair and his the way he was holding himself so stiffly as if shouldering a great burden. She cast him another curious look before breezing past him into the kitchen to have a look at what she had in that would suffice for food.

"Do you like pasta?" she gazed thoughtfully into her cupboard, having to lean onto her tip toes to see onto the top shelves. After a moment she looked over her shoulder and then asked. "And are there any allergies... or major foods you hate I should steer clear of?"

 

[Talus]

"No, I didn't want your furniture to get dirty." He said with a gesture to himself.

He was raised as a Dreadlord, not a monster.

As she spoke he turned around in the doorway, looking at her with a cocked eyebrow as if he wasn't entirely sure what she was talking about. "I don't think I've ever had pasta."

His experience with food was...limited to say the least.

Most of his life had been spent eating Rations from the Drealdords or those of the Guard. He had never really tried to widen his world in that regard. Just like with hobbies. There had been no one to prompt him to do so and therefore he simply had not. "Or much of anything else besides field rations really."

 

[Zana]

Zana laughed softly and then reached up to pull the glass jar she had filled with the long thin spaghetti down from the top shelf and placed it on the wooden counter top, then moved to where she stored her vegetables and retrieved an assortment of items and added them to, to the counter.

"Not many people have had it here, though there are a few restaurants you can order it from. My grandparents moved here from a small island off the coast, it is a popular dish there. I learnt how to make it before I was taken to the Academy," she dug out a big pout from under the counter along with a chopping board. She paused before she reached for the knife and glanced to him.

"I promise, this is entirely for the art of cooking," she slowly put her hand on the handle and then set about chopping her vegetables with the precision of someone who clearly cooked a lot. "You know, if you want to clean up I think I have some old Academy training gear still. Might be a bit short on the leg but you don't look miles bigger."

 

[Talus]

"When were you taken?" Talus asked with a slight frown, mostly because he was curious about what else she remembered.

The only thing that he could recall from his time before was his sisters face. The memory was burnt into his mind more than anything else, though there were some flashes of a falling windmill and the waves outside of Vel Luin.

A smile touched his lips when she wielded the knife. "You sure?"

He asked, glancing at the blade before he looked back to her.

"Seems again like you're just trying to get me to strip." He commented, though the offer was one he at least appreciated. "But I'll take something a little less muddy."

If only so he could sit down.

 

[Zana]

"When I was seven," she didn't look up when she answered his question, her focus on the blade in her hand and not cutting her fingers off in the process of cooking and talking about a sore point in her history. She could still remember the vision that had foretold of her fathers death and then a man who had once spent hours laughing in her house coming to tell them it had come to pass in the exact way Zana had described. She also remembered very distinctly the horrified look on her mothers face at the realisation her child was 'gifted'. That had been only seconds before she had brought the roof down on their head in grief.

"You know," a smiled twisted at her lips. "Most Dreadlords think my only gift is telekinesis and I could very easily use that to get rid of your clothes if I wanted them off," she briefly glanced up at him before her eyes flitted to the stairs. "First door on your left in the old oak chest at the foot of the bed, that's all my Academy stuff. Take whatever fits, bathroom is the next room along."

 

[Talus]

"Yeah but that'd ruin the game for you." Talus said, though whether it was still a joke or not was hard to tell.

He frowned for just a brief moment, glancing down at his clothes before he turned around and began to follow the direction she had given him.

A part of him had always thought that the wearing of newer clothes and the like was above him, something that was simply out of the realm. He had thought the same of his abode, but seeing what Zana had here...he was starting to think about that as well.

Eventually he found what Zana had spoken of. A chest filled with clothes, old, but still just as well as some of his own clothing.

He picked out what would fit him, though that was a rather narrow selection. Talus stood more than a head taller than Zana, but it was lucky the clothes they had been given in the Academy tended to be far more loose. The fit was tighter, but well enough that he did not feel embarrassed.

After a few minutes time Talus stepped back out into the hallway, pulling at the seam of his trousers.

 

[Zana]

Zana quirked a brow at his response and it even made her stop chopping for a second; did he want to play that game? She watched him go with curiosity before shaking her head and returning to her work.

By the time he returned the pot was lightly simmering on the stove and she had moved on to a bread of some sorts. She had prepared a dough earlier that day and she hadn't entirely settled on what she was going to do with it, but now that she had settled on pasta it seemed stupid not to use it to make garlic bread. She was kneading it out when he returned with her sleeves rolled up. She glanced up briefly when she heard him walking back into the room then did a double take.

"Dinner and a show, truly I am blessed tonight," her laugh was playful. "It sounds like the storm is getting worse again," her eyes flickered to the window where the rain had begun to pick up pace once more and was lashing down. Grey padded in and flopped down on the floor, head on his paws as he watched them both, though Zana more so in the hopes of getting some sort of scraps from her cooking.

 

[Talus]

"I'm not much of a showman." He admitted quietly, pulling a string slightly to adjust the hem. "That might part fall on you as well."

That time he wasn't even trying to make a joke.

Talus looked down at his clothes, feeling a bit silly in how tight the cloth actually was. Even for training clothes it was a bit odd, though he supposed it was natural with just how much bigger he actually was than Zana.

His gaze cast towards the windows. She was right about the storm, it seemed to be one of the worst he'd seen in some time. He wondered just how bad it would get.

For a moment glanced at her for a moment, then spoke. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He didn't like just standing there, even if it felt like he'd done that for most of the night.

 

[Zana]

Zana paused in her kneading and wiped a strand of hair back from her face leaving a smudge of flour in her wake. She hadn't expected the offer of help and for a moment she glanced around for something simple for him to do. If he had lived off ration foods then she was making the assumption that he hadn't exactly cooked before. She grabbed a knife and then cleared a space on the counter for him, laying out a series of different herbs that needed to be chopped.

"Sure, these chopping up quite small," she spun the knife over in her fingers and held it out handle first towards him. "If you're good at chopping things I'll move you up to dicing," her lips lifted up at the corner to give him a crooked smile then went to get the butter to roll into the dough for her bread. A comfortable silence fell between the two as each of them got on with their jobs. After a while curiosity got the better of her.

"So what is like in the Guards?"

 

[Talus]

He had been the best with a sword at the Academy, how much more difficult could chopping a few herbs be?

Without any hesitation he stepped forward, slowly grabbing the knife from her hand to ensure he did not cut her. In any other situation this might have been giving him the upper-hand in a fight, but right now...right now he was just helping cook dinner.

Slowly he set about chopping the herbs Zana had directed him towards, carefully ensuring he did not mess up the task. "It's...respectful."

He answered quietly.

"Not like it was in the Academy or my mentorship." There he had always been ordered about, directed, never consulted or asked. "The Generals ask me for my opinions. They take my words to heart."

For a second he paused, looking at her for a moment as if cautious about something. Then he slowly began to speak. "Even when I fail...there isn't a punishment. They were saddened, but...they understood."

Admitting failure was not easy for any Dreadlord, but...he felt oddly compelled to tell her.

 

[Zana]

Luana never said they were angry, never raised their voices. It was always that they were disappointed. Somehow it was worse than having food taken away or being placed in solitary confinement for a period of time. Her brows furrowed a little as she tried to work out whether making someone sad would be even worse than that. But everything he said about the Guard intrigued her. Of course, Luana made nice with the general population and so they did interact with every day people but to work alongside them...

"I cannot imagine working with normal... people...." she said slowly, wondering if they were the correct words to used to describe the mass population of Vel'Anir. Civilian didn't seem the right term to use on the Guard though. She had finished forming her loaf and turned to put it in the oven then washed her hands in a bucket of water she kept in the kitchen. For a moment she leaned against that counter and dried her hands, thinking.

"Do they freak out when you use your powers?" she chewed on her bottom lip. It was the thing that separated them truly after all and people were taught almost to fear them, to preserve that reputation.

 

[Talus]

"Some." Talus answered slowly, though he remembered when he had first displayed his magic in front of Colette and Donric.

Both of them had been shocked, but along with that had come gratuity. He had saved their lives, and that had mattered to both of them more than anything. After that incident the Guard had welcomed him with open arms.

"I'm one of them." He explained. "Magic or no."

A frown touched his face. "There are times where I think they fear me...when the extent of my power is shown, but they do not treat me any different even despite that."

Donric had even invited him out drinking a few times.

"They know that I stand for them, and in return they have given me their loyalty." Far beyond anything he'd ever gotten from anyone else. He paused for a second, then added. "And some even their friendship."

Lost in thought, Talus nearly cut himself as he sliced through some basil.

 

[Zana]

"Talus..!" it was instinct to reach for her magic when she saw he was about to cut himself. It would feel like the knife suddenly resisted his hand momentarily and in fact pushed back against it. It gave her the extra few seconds to take the two steps to his side and carefully move his hand back out of the line of attack. "Here, if you curl your fingers under like this then if you do catch yourself you won't lose the end of your finger," she gently eased his hand into the correct position then released him and let the magic go with an apologetic and almost shy smile. Using magic on another Dreadlord was usually a declaration of a fight unless they were a close comrade. She had perhaps only used them a handful of times to help people she had fought shoulder to shoulder with for the past seven years.

She let him be and moved to the sauce.

"I... am not sure but I think Luana has hope of changing for the better under Ashur," her brows pulled down into a frown. "He is the first person I've met aside from my Mentor who seemed to care I am in pain when I have the visions and when he learnt how his father had got information he thought had come through other channels...." she remembered the rage on his face. "I don't know," a soft sigh. "But it has been a small glimmer of hope for me."