Private Tales To war, we must idle

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
He set the pot atop the slowly growing fire. Once the herbs were in place, he took a seat near Eislyn and leaned back. Bracing his hands against the blanket, he laid one leg over the other as he sprawled out. He decided that this was a bit more comfortable than the last time they plopped down in the snow together.

"I'm not sure…" He admitted freely, picking at a crinkled in the blanket. "Elbion always has needs of their Maesters. I imagine I should do a bit of instruction at the college to maintain position."

That place wasn't his preference but there were resources there to assist with other endeavors. Resources that couldn't be found anywhere else. "My Elder seat at Fal'Addas has been vacant for sometime. Though they are likely happy for it. Never have they truly enjoyed it being held by the Virvyre family." He breathed in deeply.

"Or maybe I'll just wander more. See what other interesting people I can meet." He turned his emerald gaze back to Eislyn. "What about you? Were you simply here for herbal remedies?"
 
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The meaning of virvyre was completely lost on the princess. She'd grown up in a place devoid of magic. Devoid of anyone but humans. She did have access to books and stories. But none of those books or stories mentioned the name virvyre and its lupine significance.

"Hm. Fal'Addas. A place I've dreamed of visiting since reading stories about how beautiful the forests are. And the elves," eyes flickered briefly to Ere, a bit more shyly, before turning back to her hands clutched in her lap.

"Does your family have a feud going on with the other elven families?" Questioning gaze lifted to his face. "But to answer your question before you answer mine. I'm on a mission to negotiate with the Baron between the people uprising in his land. I hope to create some sort of treaty to stop a war."
 
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"Ah..." He smiled, turning his attention from her towards the kettle on the growing smolder. His nostrils flared as he caught just the slightest hint of smell across the air, amidst a deficit in the cold. "A diplomat. That doesn't surprise me." She had done well, for the majority of their interactions, to steel her expressions and remain taciturn for the topics that mattered. Such as that bit of light above the Golem.

"My family is cursed. Or maybe blessed, depending on how one looks at it." He pulled his legs back and crossed them, showing his left hand to Eislyn. While it stood as normal by all regards, if not dirty beneath the finger nails and creases, he turned it over to show the top of his hand. Gray fur sprouted from the knuckles, quickly covering his tanned skin, as the bones turned knobby and the fingernails extended to a sharpened and impressive length. Narrowing his eyes, the change reverted and he breathed in, closing the fist.

"I was born not as a druid, but as a wolf. I can change at will to the form of a wolf. It is a form of lycanthropy...like that werewolf. But one passed by lineage." His eyes lifted to Eislyn, as if the confession was an easy thing. It wasn't. "Traditional elven leadership is not fond of our subspecies. It doesn't matter to them that I have mastered polymorphy amid the druidic arts. To be born with something is far worse than to have learned it somewhere along the way. Their opinion, of course."

He paused, searching her once more for a response. "One I do not share."
 
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For a moment, she wished she had a cup of tea to hide her expression behind. Another learned diplomatic maneuver. Her expression remained calm but she couldn’t quite hide the intrigue.

Then realization.

Verdants snapped from his wrist to his face. Something skirting the line of accusation met his gaze. Then dripped into her tone.

“That’s why those wolves were so interested in us.” She corrected herself. “In you. And why they followed us back to the village?”

So his presence was due to that little war? She wondered how dangerous it was to be with him now. What other kind of ire he could draw from the local creatures.

Deep down Eislyn had worried it had been her magic. The creatures of the dark sensing a creature of the light. Many to destroy the other.

But that was why the iron bangle hid her magic. It was enough. And she was relieved to know it was enough STILL.
 
He did not need for her to make the jump to understand that it was happening. The thought had crossed his mind as well but, for such a diplomat, her face did little to hide the reaction. The same sort of reaction he had known most of his life. For most, it was because his ears were pointed and because he wasn't human. But here, it was something else entirely.

He nodded. But not out of agreement with her. He nodded in appraisal of her understanding.

"Werewolves are nefarious creatures that live on instinct and death. They know nothing but their hunger. Most don't live long enough to ever pull their curse to yoke. And they aren't born with their curse. They were all victims once and when turned, they create more victims."

Chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought, he turned from her gaze and back towards the pot. Maybe it had interested him or maybe he could only take the accusative gaze for so long. "He demanded I join him. For what purpose, I don't know. But they took my refusal as insult. None of which is my fault."

But perhaps it was the guilty conscious that made him stay, pushed him to defend a place that would spurn him at its best and ensnare him at its worst. Or maybe it was an unexpected concern for someone he hardly knew.

A long pause followed the statement until his gaze narrowed at the kettle. "Waters boiling."
 
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"Hm," she offered, listening to his explanation. There was no judgement in her eyes. She wasn't angry. Mostly because they'd survived. It wasn't a worry at the moment.

Gaze drifted to the boiling water.

"Very astute observation," she mused quietly, the corners of her pink lips twitching. "Cups are right next to that boiling water."
 
He did nothing to assuage whatever feelings with which she may have been feeling. Despite the clear change in expression from neutral to something else entirely, it was not an easy puzzle to sort out. Confusion? Worry? Anger? He mentally shrugged at the complexity of defensive pensiveness.

"I'm nothing if not an observer..." He whispered with a grunt, rolling on to his knees to grab the cups. Lifting the pot by the wicker wrapped handle, he gingerly poured tea into each cup. The fluid splashed and swirled, sending what residue made it through the spout into a violent twirl.

"I teach a whole class on it. Observation...without drawing conclusions." He placed the kettle back down and took his seat once more on the blanket. Leaning over, he placed one of the cups on the blanket between them and cradled the other in his hand. The cup was doing a good job of absorbing most of the heat.

Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled slowly. "Though attendance is fairly low when that one is offered...rather boring curriculum, taught by a boorish instructor. Surprisingly, that's not an easy sell." It wasn't actually surprising. Most students these days were all about the fireworks and magic spells, having little care for the fundamentals.
 
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"Hmm," she reached over, wrapping gloved fingers around the cup. The extra warmth slowly seeped past the material that already kept her fingers warm. Steam flowed, readily visible above the cup. Bringing the lip closer, her mouth blew a puff of the rising steam away.

Those bright green eyes of hers shifted to the man's direction

"A professor who is able to have self-deprecating humor. I find that a rare quality." She lowered the cup. It still needed to seep. And it was still too warm. But not for long. She found tea to be about patience.

A small smile went in Ere's direction.

"I was raised in a kingdom where magic is forbidden. Punishable by death. There are no others besides human. I am still not quite sure how I convinced my father to let me do the job I'm doing now."

Negotiations. Traveling.

"Perhaps because he knew he would lose me if he made me stay within the walls of the Iron Fortress. Perhaps because he is still a strategic king and sees the strategic moves behind goodwill."

Thin shoulders shrugged.

"So," she took a small breath. "I think I'd be one of those rare students who would find even your class of observation rather interesting when all I've learned about magic and the world beyond the fortress walls are from books in the forbidden section of our library. And my recent travels."
 
He could not empathize or understand this Iron Fortress land. To deny magic and forbid it, well it was akin to forbidding breathing or telling people that consuming water was strictly prohibited. It was not only ludicrous to him, it was beyond understanding.

"I didn't know." He couldn't have known but perhaps things would start to make sense. "I am sorry you had to be brought up in such a controlled environment." He took a sip from the tea and realized it wasn't quite done yet.

He enjoyed Eislyn's company. She wasn't straight forward or easy to predict, but she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders, if not somewhat naive. And now he understood that such a characteristic wasn't her fault. She seemed to only recently be allowed into the world to grow and learn. And she had so much to learn.

Just as he did.

"Come with me." He blurted out though felt no remorse in the topic. "To Fal'Addas. Come to a place where magic isn't outlawed but celebrated. Help me look upon a seat I intend to abdicate and in turn, maybe you can learn a thing or two about magic." He shifted his view from the kettle to Eislyn. "Surely a negotiator must be well traveled."
 
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It sounded like a dream. A place where she wouldn't be hindered. A place where her current expectations would be lessened. Maybe dropped. A place where she could just be. Ere had certainly sparked something more than curiosity in the princess.

But it was a dream like mist slipping through her fingers.

Eyes held his gaze.

Her father would never allow it. And while her men were loyal to her, they ultimately reported to the king. Her decision making was sometimes, perhaps mostly, illusion. "Well traveled, yes," she began. "But perhaps closer to the Spine." She was roped in; she had a leash. "My people are my responsibility and I can't walk away from that; from them." Eislyn did have the weight of a kingdom on her shoulders. And beyond duty to her people, she had a duty as a daughter. Even if she and her father were as different as fire and ice.

Hand reached forward, delicate fingers resting lightly over the man's wrist, where the patch of fur had been.

"I mean no disrespect. I've always wanted to go there ever since Hannah and I read the first stories when we were five and six." A warm smile, tinged with sadness offered in his direction. "Somehow my sister and I were not brought up with our father's hatred of elves. Magic. Xenophobia. I could probably thank my mother for that. But he would never let me go. And if I went against him, I don't think I could forgive myself."

She took a breath and drew her hand slowly away from him.

"But abdicate a seat? That sounds like a decision not to make lightly and I do hope it's not on the basis of peer pressure."
 
The brief moment of her hand on his, even in this moment of rejection, was comforting. Lythari were a solemn people. Whether that was because of their nature or because of the curse they bore in persistent excommunication, it was difficult to tell. What he knew was that it had always been the case.

"I...understand." He lied. Familial ties were a thing that once mattered to him. But for the distance of time between now and then, it might has well have been another life.

"I do not wish to lecture you Eislyn, or pretend that I am in a place to do so..." He turned towards the kettle and sipped from the tea. It was now properly matured and well steeped. "But most beings only have so much time in this world. Outward, looking in, it is the spontaneity that is perhaps the most beautiful aspect of your kind." Humans. "Yet you seem so quick to burden yourself with a lifetime of duty, tethered to the qualms of others."

He turned back to look at her, not quite ready to give in. "And I'm not asking you to relieve yourself of such things. Just to...take a break with me. Fal'Addas is a world a way but I know of a faster route. One that, if you were willing, I could teach you."

He, of course, was referring to the rough hewn stone of Crobhear Lake.
 
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She took a moment to bring her own cup to her lips, savoring the herbs as they filled her mouth and slid down her throat. Warmth against the cold. The cup left her lips, a small smile twitching there.

"As a professor, you don't wish to lecture?"

Her smile was good-natured.

The princess shifted slightly on the blanket. She wasn't agreeing. But she did permit herself to ask more questions. "How long would this journey take? And how do you know we'd travel well together? We've known each other a very short time."

She pointed that out diplomatically. Even in their short time, Eislyn liked to believe she'd measure the caliber of Ere's character well. For instance, she didn't think she'd need to worry about him selling her off to a group of slavers. Or holding her for ransom.

It wasn't an unreasonable worry for a princess to have. Especially after her first journey back from the spine and alone. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine, gloves tightening around the warm cup.

"And you have yet to answer my previous question," she gently prodded.
 
He smiled at the lecture comment. That was a pretty good one.
"I don't know that we would travel well together. I don't know many things. Despite my clear enjoyment for lofty pontification..." He drew the word out and pursed his lips, which jutted out his bearded chin in turn. "I am quite ignorant of the world and the ways of its people. But that is remedied not by inaction, but by wandering."
He had found that as time went on, he had learned a good deal. And with learning, it only further proved how little he know. It was the theories of the Maesters and perhaps a running joke. It went that a man who sought higher education, did so to learn much about a specific thing. As he continued to learn more and more, his specialty was further refined. It was such the case that a man could learn so much about a such a specific topic, that it was the equivalent of knowing nothing at all.
His face didn't quite turn serious but the smile did wane as she presented her question once more. He had conveniently skipped over the time it would take because he wasn't sure. He just knew that it would be faster with his route than by one of foot. "My dear Eislyn, do I look like the sort that is prone to peer pressure?" He returned, jokingly ticking his tongue. "I have held my seat for a long time. And Elves are long lived. It gives them an odd point of view, one that means action requires much time and much thought. They might as well be trees standing in the woods for all the change they prescribe."
That was the best answer he could offer her. The long and short: he was bored.
 
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"My father is a tyrant," she breathed, pushing the steam of her cup away with a breath of her own. "He hates elves in particular, though, I've never understood why. He's xenophobic. He would never permit me to go to Fal Addas. If he found out I was even thinking about it, he would lock me up in the highest fortress tower and what little freedom I've gained would be gone."

She took a breath, those vibrant greens of hers turning back to his.

"I hope you can understand my position."

That didn't mean she wasn't interested. That didn't mean that she didn't want to go. She just couldn't see a solution that wouldn't have her encounter her father's wrath at the end of the journey, or losing her integrity.
 
Understanding her position was one thing. Understanding why she kowtowed to these restrictions placed on herself, vicariously implemented by an overbearing father, was a separate matter altogether.

"I must confess that I do not…" He uttered as h averted his gaze, feeling that it was simply something that wouldn't occur. Taking a long sip from the cup, he paused. A shrug would have been appropriate. But he withstood the temptation.

"But it's also not necessary for me to understand. You are wise enough to implement the principles that guide your life." Or allow your father to do that very same thing. He hadn't even mentally broached the idea of her father carrying xenophobia towards elves.

It was a common mentality, one the ruler shared with the drunkards in the tavern of the Spur. It was a matter of ignorance, the nature of creatures to hate and fear what they didn't understand. And as the old adage went, a horse could be taken to water but not forced to drink.

"This is nice tea…"
 
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“That’s fair,” she said quietly. She doubted another could truly understand unless they were in her position. If her sister was still alive, she’d understand. If her mother hadn't disappeared, she’d understand.

But Eislyn was alone. With her father. With a kingdom she didn’t want. And for a moment, she envied Ere’s freedom. A princess envying someone else. It was a bitter thought. When so many probably wished they were nobility.

“If it was for a a week. Maybe a fortnight. Perhaps I could...,” voice trailed off because she knew it was impossible. No journey was that short.

The girl took another sip of tea, enjoying the silence winter’s snow had to offer.

“Would there be a way to contact you, if I’m ever able to change my mind?”
 
He turned to look at her, confused at the question. Just moments ago, she spoke of concern regarding her fathers perspicacity and the consequences of her wandering thoughts. Now, at the confusing prospect that these principles might change or that her concern for her fathers understanding of her own principles may no longer serve as guiding light, Ere brandished a thoughtful expression.
And then he rummaged into his wooden armor clumsily, paying little care for the well-being of the remaining dregs of his cooling tea. After some time, he extracted what appeared to be a roughed and run down doll. One fashioned in the comical and modern shape of a bear. Eyes of anthracite, patches of burned fur that gave the appearance of mange, and it stood just over eight inches in height.
"Would you believe me if I told you that an ancient spirit lives within this totem?" He ran a thumb over the dolls forehead and it didn't respond. Because, for now, it was nothing more than a doll. "Kermode."
 
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Twin brows the color of golden wheat twitched and rose. She wasn't sure how she expected Ere to act. Or what he might offer or not. And if she'd expected anything it all, it certainly wouldn't have been this.

"I would wonder if you were telling the truth and perhaps be a bit cautious but not dismiss the idea from the realm of possibility."

After all. Eislyn could yield a light like holy fire. It was magic. Anything was possible. But there was always a cost.

Those green eyes of hers shifted from his face to the doll.
 
"Hmm..." He replied slowly, lifting the bear up with both hands and staring deep into its anthracite eyes. With the direction and polish, he could almost make out Eislyn's reflection in the orbs. Slowly retracting one hand away from mange of the bear, Ere aimed his hand towards the fire.
"Cáemm adhart, hen yn… " He whispered. Despite the absence of any bone chilling breeze, nor drizzle or lack of firewood, the flames engulfing the wood seemed to gulp and dance. And then withdraw. Orange flames turned blue on the peripheries as spikes of fire clapped against one another, waving violently. The hand holding the bear began to rub on the stomach, indicated by a shank beige button. "Cáemm adhart, hen yn…"
Suddenly and almost in immediate response to the repetition of the command, the bear twitched. And then twitched once more. That was all that was needed for the creature, or spirit, to come to life. Delicately, Ere placed him down and then proceeded to rub his hands together.
The process was quite exothermic when fire was involved.
The bear, on the other hand, shuffled around a bit like a toddler still trying to learn to walk. As it finally stumbled to its feet, it lifted its fingerless paws towards the sky and gestured towards a solid stretch.
"Now you don't have to wonder. Meet Kermode...the old one." Ere stated quietly as the bear studied the woman for a moment. And shyly, it lifted its paw to wave.
 
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The princess had seen many things within her short life but nothing quite like this. She felt her lowerlip part from her top. Eyes widened.

"Hello," she finally managed.

Her own index finger rose and twitched in the small, stuffed bear's direction. Fair-skinned brow puzzled. "Ere. Are you meaning for me to take Kermode with me?"
 
"Mhm." He uttered in affirmation, nodding his head. "Clearly you don't have to, if you don't want. But he poses no risk to you. He will go dormant in a day or so. I don't know how far away your home is from here, but I imagine it will be long before that."

Ere rested his hands in his lap and inspected the bear for a moment. "Kermode is my protector. And not in the sense of a safety ornament or something one holds to comfort themselves. He is a defensive totem and responds to inflections of magic. Predominately aggressive ones, ones aimed at whomever he is currently protecting. But he is bound to me. Our spirits are linked. So any magical response he emits, I will feel as well."

He looked back towards Eislyn. "But despite what your father may think...whatever laws or rules he imposes, they are folly. Magic is everywhere and in everything. He might as well ask that the kingdom not breath, or that water not run. It's simply not possible. So in every moment of magic that touches Kermode, it will touch me as well."

While it may have not been entirely clear, this was a particularly important relic for Ere. But he suspected that Kermode would be in more than capable hands.
 
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Eislyn extended her hands and lowered them, palms face up. If Kermode wandered into them, she would lift him to her face for a closer inspection and then set him gently back down on the blanket over the snow. Chin would lift, gaze settling back on the curious druid.

A man most curious, indeed.

"Thank you. Let us hope I don't run into any aggressive magic aimed at myself anytime soon." She smiled, fingers flitting up to her ear to tuck honey-wheat strands back. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the totem would respond to her own inflections of magic. Eislyn would need to be careful. Right now, the iron bangle on her wrist kept everything in check. She knew it probably wasn't wise to suppress her own magic. But it was the hand she'd been dealt for the moment.

And maybe one day, maybe one day soon, she'd get a set of different cards.