Private Tales What Wolves Hide Their Teeth?

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria froze as her feet left the grounding that was the floor, her arms grasping him tightly as her legs instinctively wrapped around his awkwardly. "Kilien." She hissed, but her worries dissipated the moment he fell onto the bed. She moved to sit upright, the young man beneath her earning himself a shake of her head.

"Really testing me without my magic there." Not that she would have done anything to him, but Vittoria always reached for her magic as if it were a sword kept sheathed.

She leaned forward, hands resting either side of his head. Her dark hair fell like a curtain, tickling his face before she pressed a kiss to his lips. "You cannot rest if your boots are still on." She carefully moved to sit on the edge of the bed and began to unlace her boots. Vittoria even removed her jacket, feeling a little more free without it's heavy weight on her.

The bed was soft. Even the pillows held her head in a soft cradle. She exhaled, sinking further into the plushness. "This... is a nice pillow." There was only a few hours difference in time between Vel Anir and Elbion, but all that travel was beginning to press upon her. A bed, finally, was all it took for her to become comfortable with the peace Kilien gifted her.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Hm," he grunted, smirking as she chastised him.

"Mm," he said, smiling into the kiss as he disappeared within her hair.

"..mnnn..." he replied, unconvinced about the boots, having slept soundly while fully clothed plenty often.

He did not move from that spot while she doffed her own and made herself comfortable.

By the time Vittoria remarked on the pillow, he'd already dozed off.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

She wished she could fall asleep so quickly as Kilien had, but her body did not feel the same. There was a disconnect her mind kept latching on, and pulled her away from a proper rest. Despite her eyes staying closed and her constant rolling around in the bed, when Vittoria awoke later that day, she did not feel so refreshed.

Still, she crossed the room on light feet to the wash basin. Pooled water into her cupped hands and pressed her face into the cool water. It spilled, dropping onto the disturbed surface in the basin.

An hour later, she was walking hand in hand with Kilien. She had some odd thought to pack a simple dress, convinced at the time she would not need to wear it, but seeing how the other women dressed here in Elbion made her wish she chose to wear it. Perhaps on the special surprise night she wanted to plan for Kilien.

"Oh, there it is!" They had been following the trace of freshly baked goods for ten minutes now, and Vittoria had only caught the smell of pastries minutes before. Kilien had a good nose, his instincts directing them up the hill to where they now climbed to reach the bakery. They both had not eaten all day, had slept through lunch hour at their inn, but now the promise of warm bread awaited them.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien slept soundly, though he did rouse once or twice during her rolling about to sleepily fold an arm over her in comfort. Then back to sleep he went.

It was hard being a werewolf during the day so close to the full moon.

In the evening hours, however, he felt alive and wired. That Vittoria wanted to run about to shop, to eat, to explore was a welcome avenue for all the energy he now had. Sniffing out the patisserie was easy, and though he'd prefer a big juicy stake Kilien Basmarc did not say no to food when offered.

"Sakralno dej," grateful hands planted together at his front as he entered the shop, head bowed in reverence to the wonderful smells within.

"What'll it be dearies?" said a shortly dwarf lady behind the main counter sporting a beard that put Kilien's to shame.

He raised his brows, pawing at his own scruff out of mild envy, "Got anything with meat in it?"

"I can fix you up some fresh bread, slices, and cheese if it takes ye. What'll it be? Pork or turkey?"

His eyes skated to Vittoria, the woman with the coin.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"He will have extra slices of meat, please." She ordered, before her eyes began to scan the sweets and savouries on display. "Oh, and I shall have the lemon tarts."

She leaned into Kilien, "Tea?" She asked as her coin purse was brought out. It was one of three purses, for Vittoria knew not to carry one heavy with coin. Especially without her magic there to stop anyone from trying to rob them, Vittoria did not want to turn this peaceful day into something violent.

Vittoria began counting her coin, the type that would be accepted here in Elbion.

"I would like a black tea. Something... not too punchy."

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

The shopkeep recognized the situation with some humor, smiling primly as she began putting their order together.

"Tea for you as well, luv?"

"Whatever she's having is fine."

"Right, that'll do ya for..." as she counted out the amount for Vittoria to pay.

The pair of them were soon seated outside with tea, lemon tarts, and a tray of freshly sliced bread, pork, turkey, and cheese. Kilien wasted no time layering together a sandwich and dug in. He'd clean the whole tray on his own if Vittoria made no effort to partake. It was hungry work, this full moon business.

"This is nice," he remarked over a sip of tea as he eased back into his seat and looked around, "completely different feel from old Anir."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria took some slices of cheese from his plate, but other than that, she did not go back for more once she begun to eat one of two lemon tarts.

Her eyes lifted to the buildings lining up the street, even giving the cobbled street a glance and she gave a hint of a smile. "You are right, Kilien. There is a... different affair in this city." Perhaps it was the freedom without the shackles of duty to country, served as Initiates and then Dreadlords.

The afternoon sun had warmed their seats before they sat, and now she watched it cast the shops on the opposite side half in sun and half in shadow.

She reached for her tea, spelled to keep the same temperature no matter how long the cup stood for. It bewitched her.

"Do you think you can do that for me? When we return to the Academy, can you keep my teacup hot the entire time I am drinking from it?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

Kilien gave his own mug of tea a dubious look. Brows raised, he lifted it for a sip and found it to be at the perfect drinking temperature: hot, but not so terribly that it would burn the mouth.

"That is some very ... specifically niche magic someone has probably taken many years to perfect." Admittedly he was interested in figuring it out. These sort of things were of deep interest to him, but he suspected it would also take him many years to figure it out, if he meant to focus those years on the craft of brewing tea and serving it in a state of perfection.

"I can't tell if the magic is in the cup, the tea, the process, or all of them combined. It's probably some family secret... I wonder if they have different temperatures for different teas..."

Kilien would try to move mountains for her if she asked, but the key term here was try. He couldn't promise success but it would never be for a lack of trying.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Her hands curled around the cup, ready to send her magic into the spellwork to determine where it worked... but was met with nothing. She sat there, silent, and staring at her cup. Vittoria could have easily told him the answer to one of his questions, but without her mana...

"It is fine. I was simply... curious, is all." She dismissed the idea, vexed how she now had to go about a few days without the reliance of magic. "I would think they should pay careful attention to the temperature of teas being served. You would not wish to bring out the bitterness in a green tea by having it too hot, no?"

Something she had learned in her reading. When her fantastical romance novels were lacking, she always turned to reading something else of interest. After Kilien read her tea leaves, she read books on tea and how it should be prepared. She was now all the better for it.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

It was likely, had he determined himself invested enough to really chase down answers, that he could have uncovered the source of the ever-hot tea's magic as well through his own means. But presently Kilien was not more interested in expending the mana to do so than he was starting a fight in front of a patisserie shoppe. Magic tea was interesting, but also a novelty. It was only important when one desired tea.

Kilien desired a great deal more important things.

Like filling his belly. He layered in another sandwhich, cleaning the remaining slices from the platter.

"Where to next?" asked, purposefully, before he took a big bite.

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

"I should think we look for somewhere to purchase our attire required for the gala in two nights time. I can only imagine how annoyed a seamstress will be given the late notice, but... I do have enough coin that would surely pay that fee to rush it." She did not favour complex designs or intricate silhouettes. In fact, she liked things sleek and simple, for it often complimented her height.

It was a gala in Elbion, and Vittoria had no interest in catching much attention.

"We should also be hearing back from the College the day after the gala if our request to visit is approved. Did you wish to... purchase anything before that visit? Perhaps blank notebooks? Ink pots?" She lifted a brow. Vitt had not asked him what he wished to do truly once they got to visit. She would have to wear the cuffs come the evening of the gala, and during their visit to the College. If she forgot to abide this request, she would hate to be the one responsible for their request to be denied.

Vittoria did not want to disappoint Kilien.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Notebooks?" Kilien gave her a hairy glance, "when's the last time you saw me taking notes?"

She'd seen his handwriting. It was atrocious.

"It's all up here," he smiled, smugly, and tapped at his temple, "the interesting parts anyway."

Down the hatch went the last of his tea, chasing after the final bites of his meal. Yep, he was feeling much better.

"Alright," back on his feet, he turned his head to look up and down the avenue they presently found themselves on, "let's find you a pretty dress and a grumpy seamstress."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

Vittoria still sat at their table and finished the last of her tea. It's heat warmed her as it traveled down within her.

Once she stood, she reached for his hand and placed her other above his elbow to hold. "I already know what fabric I would like... but I suppose I am also at the mercy of whatever textiles they have available. Perhaps I may need something dyed." She was particular about her house colours. She was the last Larrainth left, and that meant something to her.

It had been her father's last wish that the name die out, so that it would no longer be associated with the treachery of his twin brother who fell in love with an elf and married her.

What if... she was turning the name to something greater? The name always had something menacing about it to all Anirians that knew of her father's triumphs. It even went beyond that her of father, and his father.

"Is your family name... something you are proud of, Kilien?" Vittoria turned to look up at him as they walked, slowly and without hurry to see to their errands.

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

He felt a faint smirk form on his lips as she spoke of textiles and fabrics. More that they were at the mercy of her, he thought, than the other way round.

Beyond such things, he spent a few moments attempting to picture just what dress she might end up with, but if he was completely honest with himself he was never very good at those things. Kilien liked to think it was due to the fact that she looked lovely no matter what she wore, but more likely it was simply due to a lack of creative ability. His mind simply did not work its way through imaginings, but rather through something more akin to stream of conscious thought.

And sometimes there just simply was no thought at all. Only enjoyment of a moment in time. Feeling rather than thinking.

"My what?" he blinked at her, having gotten distracted by the rather unusual architecture of Elbion around them. It was far more whimsical than anything he could recall of the Academy or Vel Anir. "My name? What... like my family name?"

Kilien was certainly nothing to hold pride in. It was the name his mother gave him and that was where the sentimentality of his name stopped. No, she meant Basmarc.

"Of course," he said as simply as if she had asked him if he liked her, "it's my heritage and just about all I've got left of my family." Vittoria knew that he was presently unaware of the state of his immediate family. Separated now for over ten years, they could be anywhere in the wide world beyond the clutches of Vel Anir.

Or they could be dead. Not even the Rovani caravan he and Kael had been sent on mission to knew of the fate of the Basmarc name. He absently spun the golden signet bearing his family crest around his finger. "Mm," his thought continued as he recalled his family history; the very same one that earned him such ridicule at the Academy.

"I don't care what the stories say about Berren. The name Basmarc is much older than him. Way back it was near enough considered Rovani nobility..." another smile stretched his beard, faintly smug, "not quite the same as Anirian nobility though."

 

[Vittoria Larrainth]

For the first time in her life, an apology crept to the precipice of being spoken.

It was immediate, and as Vittoria caught herself, her eyes widened a fraction at the sudden feeling of telling Kilien she was sorry for being part of those that held his kin's notoriety to get a rise out of him.

That day they were to work on their project, she had tried to barb him with her words, but Kilien knew how to deflect her advances and attempts. It was the moment she began to become curious about him, and that curiousity now lead them here. Familiar with each other, friends, and the need to latch onto him for as long as she could when she knew that graduation would tear them apart.

"Do you think it is possible to love your family for all the wrong reasons?" She was the last of her own, and all she could do was look back on those that came before her. Her father, so steeped in keeping up appearances, was so devastated by his own twin's scandal, he asked Vittoria to slay every Larrainth and take a new name in marriage. To leave the name behind and die out with only the remembered legacies.

What if she liked the notoriety the name Larrainth gave? That once spoken, those that knew to tread carefully did so and looked at her with apprehension?

"Would... would you change your name to... start new?"

 

[Kilien Basmarc]

"Do you think it is possible to love your family for all the wrong reasons?"

"Yeah," he did not even have to think about it. Kilien knew, first hand, what it was to love a family, or a religion, or a nation, or a leader, for all the wrong reasons. It was the wrong reasons that had seen the destruction of his people's home and sent them scattering across the lands. It was the wrong reasons that had stolen him as barely a boy of 9 right out of a market square.

Vittoria espoused the very people that he actively detested, but Vittoria wasn't the one that had perpetrated those things. He couldn't despise her for something she didn't do, nor for being born into the family she had been. Those things were not her fault.

"If I wanted to separate myself from what that name represented, or what it meant to others, then yeah-" Kilien nodded firmly, "I'd change my name in an instant. Owning your own name you chose yourself? There's something to that..."