Completed The Long Way Down

[Elijah]

Oh.

Elijah swallowed his embarrassment. Of course she would know what Patas was, he was sure that the Bursar's had much fancier restaurants for such ways of eating. He quickly shoved the feeling aside and blustered through an explanation of the food instead.

"Lamb," he said gruffly then cleared his throat. "Seasoned and spit roasted slowly for 24 hours," he put a little bit of it on her plate and managed a warm, shy and tentative smile. "Try a bit. It goes well with this," he added a bit of yellow rice to her plate too before heaping some on his own. "That is oyster sauce on the beef with mushrooms," settled into the explanation he launched on to a full description of all the dishes which ranged from vegetable dumplings, noodles and rice dishes to seasoned potato cubes in white wine sauce, and a variety of meat and fish dishes.

"The crayfish is one of my favourites. Dharrin flame chars it on the open fire out back," he offered her one of the skewered parcels of food.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She looked upon the man while his words washed over her, a pleasant litany of edible things that she listened to with half an ear. She tried a bite of the roast and rice, and had to admit to herself that it tasted delightful, the meaty flavor of the roast mellowed somewhat by the lightly seasoned rice. It was a shame there wasn't a decent red wine to be had here, for it would have gone splendidly with that dish.

She took another bite and set her utensil down, raising both hands in a warding gesture. "There is too much for me to try more than a little of some of it," she said. Even as she said it, she imagined his embarrassed reaction to the admission that her petite size also came with a petite stomach. She was forced to school her face to stillness at the image evoked in her head, and this time simply schooling it was not enough. She bit her lip, but it couldn't hide the coloring of her cheeks. "This..this would take me a week to....to eat," she said, struggling with herself to not laugh at the silly image in her head.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah huffed a laugh at the picture she painted made all the more funny by the fact the amount of food he had ordered was what he usually ordered... for himself. He ran a hand through the strands of his dark hair as the realisation hit him which only made him laugh harder. The Captain's laugh was an infectious thing and a few people turned to look in their direction almost as if they hoped to share in what had brought such joy to the large man. He shook his head slowly as the laughter died.

"When Dharrin asked if I wanted the usual, he meant... what I order for myself," he explained to let her in on the joke then chuckled again, giving a slight wriggle of both brows. "Eat what you want, nothing will go to waste don't you worry," he grinned and demonstrated his words by wolfing down the mountain of food that was already on his plate.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

When he lost it, so did she. Although they laughed for different reasons, it was cathartic nonetheless. The admission that he could have eaten everything on that table only served to heighten the difference between them, and the image of him stuffing his face - on its own not enough to cause mirth - extended the gale of laughter for several minutes longer than it should have gone on for.

She wiped at the tears in her eyes as aftershocks of mirth rumbled through her. She became aware of the attention from others around them, and for a very brief moment shrank back at it out of embarrassment. And then she remembered who she was, and what she had been trained all her life to deal with, and sat straight with both hands on her lap. It didn't hide the color under the freckled cheeks, nor the light in her eyes.

"I...haven't done that in longer than I can remember," she said quietly as she primly picked up a utensil, fiddling with the rice on her plate but not actually eating any of it. "It felt....good," she added. She didn't know if she should feel guilty or relieve; guilt for being able to feel such happiness, such mirth, or relief that she could still feel it at all.

 

[Elijah]

"Yes... it does," Elijah wasn't sure when he had laughed so hard either. Well, no that was a lie. He could remember when he had last laughed like that because it was the reason why he had thought he would never be able to do it again. Especially not with someone else. That same mix of guilt but... joy consumed him for a moment. In the past it might have even consumed him and he would have made an excuse to leave but... something Lyssia had said earlier made him stop on the edge of that pit.

"I think... it is what we both needed," he gave her a hesitant smile as though he still wasn't sure he was allowed to do such a thing. "It's been a tough few days," he ran a hand through his hair and relaxed into the smile a bit more at the tiny joke.

Something seemed to ease in the atmosphere between then and for the first time since meeting her Elijah relaxed, turning his attention back to the food in front of him.

"So... what's your favourite?" he motioned to the dishes.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She felt strangely awkward all of a sudden, and floundering to find words she quickly tried to escape by trying a bit of the lamb and the rice. Savory and delicious, it was nearly as good as the rich fare that had been provided at home whenever guests had been present. She always quite likes both lamb and rice, when prepared properly, and said as much.

"These," she indicated on her plate. "We did not eat except when company was over, so it was not a thing we had very often," she said by way of reply. Weariness had crept into her voice, completely unawares. It was as though the laughter had bled a poison from her soul, but once that tension had been stripped from her, the need to rest - the one he had been so adamant about her doing before they left his humble home - had come crashing back twice as hard. Now aware of it, she pushed back on it as hard as she could.

"I would ask which is yours, but seeing as you would eat all of this yourself..." She looked up at him, clear eyes - a touch red-rimmed, dark circled - trying to imagine where he would put all of it.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah's cheeks turned a fetching shade of beetroot.

"Ah, well," he rubbed the nape of his neck again in that gesture that was so clearly one of his go to movements when he felt awkward or embarrassed. Most people had such a thing for it was hard to keep still when you wanted to hide. The Captain shot her an almost apologetic grin before he motioned to the prawns on a skewer. "If I had to pick one though, it would be these. I love seafood and the prawns they get fresh every day. When I was little, as a treat, my mother would take me very early in the morning when they brought in the catch. We would buy a pot between us and sit on the harbour wall, peeling the shells off and eating them raw as we watched the boats come in," he could still taste the oceans salt air in every prawn because of that memory.

He picked one up and devoured it practically whole. There wasn't much left of what had started on the table, having done what he had threatened to do from the start and clear it mostly by himself.

Still, he hadn't missed the tiredness in her eyes. So knowing what he did about her pride instead of addressing it directly he merely said;

"A lot of food though makes me pretty tired so after I hope you don't mind if we head back?"

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She laughed into her hand at his reaction, the red staining his cheeks sparking a brief fit of mirth she was able to keep contained. It did not lessen the weight she felt pulling at her, but he was certainly right about one thing: she had a stiff pride, and she would sooner admit to indecent acts than to her own weakness. Well, probably. The odds were fairly good that she would, anyway.

She picked at what was left of her plate, which had neither been much to start with and was still not much now. The ghost of the savory meal graced her tongue, but she really could only think of bed, now.

"I suppose we should return," she said, carefully concealing the desire to do so. It wasn't as if she did not know that he knew she was tired; he had known when they had set out, railed against her galavanting across the city while she yet recovered. The interplay left her feeling subtly off balance, as though this was not how things were supposed to be.

Not with a common soldier, not with anyone. A peculiar emotion, this, and one that she did not understand and was too tired to pick at for the moment. "I would not mind if we went back through the garden, though," she said earnestly.

 

[Elijah]

"Of course," Elijah's eyes softened. He had been preparing for a fight - so far Lyssia had not been the most accommodating of people when it came to doing things he suggested. She was strong, fiercely opinionated and more than happy to let anyone nearby know about it. So for her to agree so easily... he couldn't help but wonder just how exhausted she was. Before she could change her mind he quickly motioned to his cousin for the bill and then stood up to leave.

"This way," he smiled and waited patiently for her to gather herself before leading her back through the throng of people. Behind them their table was already being cleared for customers hovering eagerly nearby. He slid Dharrin some coins on his way out and gave a contented sigh when they stepped back onto the street.

As promised, Eli led them back the way they had come through the market and then into the gardens where he relaxed his pace and let her guide their path.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

Getting back to her feet was harder than she was willing to admit. Someone had tied lead weights to her feet, and her joints ached abominably on top of that. She clenched her teeth to keep from grimacing as she fell in behind him, content to follow for the moment. She did not really have the strength for an argument of any kind, right then.

It was a blessing, in its own way, once they had slipped past the crowds and the noise, back into the quieter parts of this district. The ever-present hum of the city was always there, of course, but muted here. She did not say anything as they made their way back.

At least, not until the gardens. The green spaces were a favorite of her, always and forever; she had said as much to Elijah, but the truth was she could spend all of her days in among the trees, the roses, the carefully tended paths and ponds and pools filled with colorful koi, some of whom where nearly has as large as she herself was.

This was a place for reflection, and she closed her eyes as her pace slacked off, looking inward and contemplating the entire array of events, from the little eatery to kneeling on a floor, trying to pull the entirety of the worlds magic through her flesh. Much beyond she couldn't think on clearly; only on the immediate. Days before she had been trying to deal with criminals to secure a future for herself, and then that had collapsed like a house of cards; today, she was being toted about by a Captain of the Royals who would have, a year ago, been just as quick to cast her into the street as the rest.

Wouldn't he?

She shook her head, trying to dispel the confusion in her mind, and instead focused on her surroundings. Green things. Living things, filled with beauty and splendor, things that were prized in a society in which war and death round every corner.

"Thank you," she said as she ambled along, eyes lidded. For what he was thankful, she did not say; as thoug h the expression of the sentiment were enough, and required no further elaboration.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah merely inclined his head at her words, deciding that from her body language and the far away tone of her voice that silence was probably what she wanted. The Captain wasn't going to complain. Instead he quietly folded his hands behind his back and took a moment to actually enjoy the park.

The park had been here for his entire career yet he hadn't stepped foot inside of it more than a half a dozen times. His job pulled him in too many directions and he had an army to command. It left very little time to breathe. The days he had spent by Lyssia's bedside had been costly and he knew his work was piling up. He might as well enjoy this moment whilst it lasted.

"There is something I think you might like here," he murmured and inclined his head to the left. Down a winding path they went where blossom trees littered their way with rose coloured petals. Slowly the trees began to spread out and before them appeared a lake. In the middle sat an island with a blossom tree that towered higher than the rest but was bent with time to the point its leaves brushed against the surface of the water like a willow tree.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

She said nothing, only followed in his wake.

The winding path held little of interest, or at least little more than the rest of the green space held; more life, more carefully cultivated wilderness amid a bastion of humanity. The orderly way of the city warred with the garden space, even though it, too, was well regulated. There were always things in nature that could not be tamed, though, and they abounded here, cultivated or no.

She looked ahead at the man again, questions circling in her head. Odd that there could be so many questions, now, after everything else they had gone through. She had never really questioned his motivations beyond the most cursory level possible. He had spoken of a duty to the citizens of the city, but surely that did not include all the things he had done for her. Certainly he did not accept anyone into his home, or take them through the city - especially given that she was far from fawning or easy to get along with.

She could not understand, could not make heads or tales of it. She was too tired to wax philosophical, and perhaps she simply lacked the capacity to understand what went through Elijah's mind in the first place.

Sensing something different, she pulled herself from introspection, and blinked at what she saw. The lake was barely worthy of the term, perhaps an acre of water in which colorful koi swam lazily round the edges. A fanciful bridge spanned the water to the island, needlessly intricate woodwork lending a certain flair to the scene. The scent of the blossoms was thick in the air, completely concealing the odor of a city, clean or not.

"This..," she began, but did not finish. She made her way to the bridge, and padded across it, looking into the crystalline water, the stones and aquatic plants obscured by the occasional passing fish. She crossed and went beneath the drooping bows of the tree, until she could rest a hand against the trunk of that time had been kind to.

Without saying anything else, she turned round and took a seat with her back to the tree, looking out over the waters through the drooping branches, her eyes distant.

 

[Elijah]

Elijah smiled faintly when she settled down beneath the tree.

It had been a toss of the coin whether she would have liked it or not but after her reaction to the gardens in general he had felt safer at bringing her here. Now? It was best to leave her to it. So that was what the Captain did. He quietly padded towards the edge of the lake and sat amongst the wildflower blooms and grass to unlace his boots. Neatly he placed them to the side along with his socks then rolled up the baggy breeches he was wearing until they came to his knees. Once he was done he stood once more and waded out into the lake.

The fish at first swam away from him, chasing the ripples he caused out towards the centre of the lake. However, after a few minutes passed they returned and idly nibbled at his calf. He paid them on mind as he bent and picked up a smooth flat stone from the bedrocks and then skimmed it across the pool. It bounced four times before disappearing beneath the waves. He waited for the ripples to disperse then bent and picked up another.

 

[Lyssia D'avore]

Eyes distant, but not too distant that she could not see Elijah as he tossed stones across the water, watching them skip across. It was not an activity she was familiar with; a thing many children might have done, but the nobility did not always choose to raise their children in such a fashion, and in any case she had been destined to take over after her mother retired. She'd had other priorities most of her life.

What am I doing? The question drifted through her mind lazily as she watched on. I do not belong here. This is not my world, not what I was born to. She knew that for truth, but she also knew that what she had been born to would never be. If ever it did, then it would be achieved through a very different path than she had been raised to believe.

But the question was not really anything to do with the purpose that had been stripped from her. It had much, much more to do with this man. Wounded, he had not fled. Knowing who she was...he had not turned the same apathetic eye that the others had. She had lashed out at him, and he had stood stoic before the storm....and it confused her.

Why is he doing that? Why? But she could find no answer within herself. She could not ask him, either; she did not think the answer he had given before was entirely sincere, and believed there was something else behind it. Something she could neither fathom nor predict. In some way, he had stirred a part of her that she had never before felt the lack of. Or was she just being delusional? Was that confusing feeling of....of...

Was it real? Or was it some manifestation of the deep grief that she held at bay over the loss of her family? Or something else entirely? Lyssia did not know.

The soft sounds of the city lulled the little woman, a lullaby every bit as effective as the ones her mother used to sing. On that forgotten song, heart twisted with a medley of emotions, some tragically familiar and others strange and unknown, did she drift off.

Chin resting against her chest, she breath easily in sleep.

 

[Elijah]

"Not tired, huh?"

Elijah had let the sun begin to set before he waded out of the water and retrieved his boots. In truth he had thought that Lyssia would eventually wake up from her slumber and no doubt berate him if he noticed it. So he had left her to sleep thinking that even if she slept out here that it would help her heal from the wounds caused by her own magic. He wondered what it must be like to have that kind of raw power that you could fill yourself with too much of it to the point of taking your own life. Eli's brushes with magic were limited to those the vanbraces he owned permitted him to have control of. It did extract its price whenever he used it, but it wasn't a part of him like her magic was a part of hers. He would never truly understand fully what it was she had come close to doing.

Was still able to do.

So he had done all he, as a simple man, could. He had let her sleep.

When the sun began to dip and the temperature grow cooler only then did he scoop her up in his arms, careful not to wake her, and carried her back home where he would continue to do everything he could for her as she grew strong again, even if it was just as simple as letting her sleep as he had done that day.