Meetings

[begrimed]

Behind an ever traveling emerald green door (you'll find it when you really need it, but it never seems to be in the same place in the palace) lies a quaint office, often slightly ajar with a few notes of music beckoning guests inside.

In the center of the room lies an ornate cedar wood desk, cluttered but just short of messy, with various sheet music piled on top. The bookcases on each side are in a similar state, books shelved away neatly were it not for the lack of any semblance of alphabetization.

The boss of this domain can often be found with his feet up with no regard for decorum; a casual enough atmosphere for casual enough chats, surely.

Those who venture into the palace to seek out the emerald green door will find it's different than usual, sturdier, with a particularly bright sheen and emblazoned with an insignia.

The door is also always closed, though whether it's locked or not depends on when you visit.

Comments

[begrimed]

[ While she cries he remains quiet, eventually closing his eye, waiting for her to speak again. When she does, he doesn't open his eye again. ]

...if that's what you want.

[sempiternel]

Mm. [ A small sound of agreement. That's what she wants.

Is this why she came to him specifically? Because he lets her do as she pleases in this space? She sighs, drying the last of her tears. Her face is swollen from crying, but for once, she doesn't have to care how she looks. He'll sprout some meaningless compliment regardless, she's sure. ]

That was very patient of you, thank you. But I suppose that's the one thing you need to have in a place like this.

[begrimed]

More than just here, fraulein.

[ For now he stays as he is at the bookshelf. ]

[sempiternel]

"Not this exact story," you said... How long will you have to remain patient for? As long as I have? Longer?

[begrimed]

[ Finally he stirs, with a low chuckle, glancing over at her with a smile. ]

Haha, isn't age something women don't like to discuss? [ He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his flute, flipping it over in his hand. ]

I don't see a point in keeping count.

[sempiternel]

I can't exactly be shy about something I don't know. If my age turns off all the men in my life - especially the men in my life, all the better.

1/2

[begrimed]

Then that makes two of us.

[begrimed]

[ A beat and then he adds: ]

In both counts.

1/2

[sempiternel]

...

[ Oh? ]

[sempiternel]

[ Oh???? ]

!!

[ Male suitors????? ]

[begrimed]

I'm a don as you know, yeah? I get to make the rules.

[ He moves a hand to the side of his face, just shy of obscuring his smile. ]

But I've always only had an eye for women. Not that it stopped the attempts any.

[sempiternel]

[ She eyes him faux critically with a small smile, a faint tremulous simulacrum of her usual one. ]

That's not to say what your other eye thinks, I see. But in all fairness, there is nothing lacking in your appearance, so I suppose attempts are warranted.

[ He's handsome enough, she guesses. Personality, however... ]

[begrimed]

You flatter me so, fraulein. [ It's just a touch singsong, enough to temper the gravity of the night without losing the more serious thread he's worn since she walked in here. ]

Ahh, but there is no other eye. [ He taps the overly ornamental eyepatch with a finger, the charm jingling. ] I lost that sometime ago now.

[sempiternel]

Lost... [ She touches the corner of her own eye in lieu his, since he's standing farther from her than last time she was here. Grimaces when she feels how puffy her eye is. ]

If I still had my powers, we could restore it. [ There's a questioning note in her voice. They could restore it... if he wanted. She doesn't want to presume. She's restored a werewolf's fangs and tongue, so with a little research and some ingredients from her world, she could find a way... ]

[begrimed]

I wouldn't say no to really seeing the world again. But this isn`t a wound magic or medicine can fix, which suits me just fine.

[ A slight shrug and he dislodges himself from the bookcase, moving back over to his desk though he doesn't sit. ]

Though I suppose it's my turn to say thanks now.

[sempiternel]

[ The offer is there. He seems certain magic can't restore his eye, and she will accept his words as they are. Though this does pique her scholarly curiosity. What kind of wound could magic not fix? And why? ]

Thank me? For what?

[begrimed]

For the offer, fraulein. Meant or not I don't get many of those.

[ A quiet smile. ]

[sempiternel]

[ No, he wouldn't, would he? And after how he acted today, it's seems unlikely there will be many who will offer. Oh, today... She wipes away a stray tear before it can fall. ]

Well... [ She sighs, a melancholy breath. ] You are all mine. I have to take care of what is mine.

1/2

[begrimed]

[ He blinks way too wide, the customary smile on his face sliding off, melting into crystal clear astonishment. Out of all the faces he's made this past week, this one is new and in that sense it is in fact, hers. ]

[begrimed]

[ It only lasts for a second before it too crumbles into a burst of laughter, something like a crescendo of different notes that shouldn't go together but somehow do. He has to curl in on himself to laugh as much as he currently is, hands at his sides.

Whether he runs out of air or simply catches himself is unclear but when he finds himself again, drawing in quick breaths that are still shaky on the edges he straightens up back to his proper height. ]

Is that what I am? [  Hushed and not at all there but still spoken nevertheless. ]

Okay, okay, okay. [ No further elaboration given, he walks over to where she is, not encroaching entirely into her space but certainly closer than he's been, aside from well, their pinky promise. The smile has slipped back onto his face now too, as well as his usual voice and cadence. ]

Then tell me my lady, what would you ask of me?

[sempiternel]

[ As he laughs, a flicker of doubt passes over her face. Did he not claim that exact thing last time? "I'm all yours," he had said in that nonchalant manner of his. ]

Yes. [ That is what he said. Is he taking it back? ] Have you changed your mind?

[ It figures he would get up close when she looks her worst. She doesn't want to be beautiful for him anyway. She tilts her head up, searching his eye with her own, trying to guess meaning into his actions. Even knowing how futile it would be to try and glimpse the truth in his expression, to catch the bruised shade of his innermost feelings. At times, the both of them willfully misunderstand each other, she knows.

And what did she want? There is a lot she could ask for. Information would be nice, but even without him, she can make do. Her magic back would help, but she's not helpless without it. He can ask what she wants, but she also knows his role and that role won't grant all her desires.

So what does she want of him? Something unsteady beats in her chest. She curls her hands there, protective. Defensive. ]

I ask that you're here whenever I come through that door.

[begrimed]

I wouldn't. It's just— [ Some more laughter escapes his chest but it's short-lived, and he shakes his head running a hand over his eye. ]

...whenever... [ He drops his hand and refocuses, trying to catch his reflection in her blue hues. ]

I can do that, on one condition. No visiting me on Sunday nights and no asking about it either.

[sempiternel]

[ She nods slightly when he says he hasn't changed his mind, half focused on his laughter again and half thinking about the unsteadiness she feels.

Sunday is... Ah. A reminder that these strange visits may as well be happening in a time removed from here. There's no bargaining with a curse. Outside this room, the plot moves on. ]

Very well. I promise.

[ She wonders if he means to never ask, ever. But it doesn't matter if she can only visit until -

Until. ]

[begrimed]

[ ... ]

Then it's a deal, my lady. Another promise?

[ He holds out his hand, pinkie extended. ]

[sempiternel]

[ Just how many of these little promises will they make to each other? (And how many will be broken?) ]

Another promise. [ Whereas the promise she had him make before was for everyone, this one is just for the two of them. It feels... unsettlingly intimate. It doesn't stop her from entwining their pinkies. ] I won't ask and you'll be here.

[ Then, a little reproachfully, because don't think she didn't notice: ] You've called me "my lady" twice now, but did you not tease me for calling you "my lord"?