In search of... (part 2)

[bitterguardian]

After years of living in his subterranean home around the vault, Horvath is unused to being woken by sunlight. To fall asleep comfortably sunk deep in a plush chair is familiar, but the chair is not his own, and to wake with a cat sleeping on him, and another running around playing is familiar, but these are not his cats and there are more than two. Also he rarely has the foresight to pull a blanket over himself. To feel so much at home in a place that is not his home comes as a strange surprise.

Last night before he dozed off in the chair, however, he had a great deal of food and alcohol, and his body would urgently like to remind him of that fact. He's grateful for the new set of crutches in easy reach, and he hauls himself up on them and swings along off to the bathroom, letting the cats scatter in his wake.

Once he's tended to the basics, and ascertained that while he is hung over, it's not a bad one, he notices the note from his host conveniently stabbed through on a prong of the antlers around the bathroom mirror. She had some foresight, indeed.

Bonjour Max! I hope that your sleep was a deep, healing one and that you woke to a better day! I had an errand to run early this morn, and might not make it back in time to be there when you wake. So! There is food, coffee, tea - and I shall return with fresh eggs for breakfast if you sleep so long.
Mara

The towels from yesterday have been replaced with clean ones, his clothes are washed and mended on the bed, and there's the salve still waiting back on the footstool beside the chair in which he slept. Thanks to the ambient light of day waking him, it's not late by any means, so he takes time to wash, to put salve and a bandage over the blistered stump of his leg, and to dress in his own clothes once more. When he emerges to investigate the kitchen, Horvath feels more like himself than he has since his encounter with Shub niggurath sent him questing. Pantleg folded up and tucked neatly (a trick he learned back in the army hospital when he was first learning to adapt to the amputation), moving faster on the new crutches than he can with a cane, he murmurs to the cats, and seeks out a cup of tea to help drive away the vestiges of a headache that's not strong enough to dampen a good mood.

Comments

[bitterguardian]

It's just possible that nobody has ever told him not to apologize for feeling. Hurt feelings, and acting on them, he thinks, is a large part of what broke up the bond between Merlin's apprentices. He's never been good with feelings, taught from an early age to repress them. It's a habit he's never unlearned. "My... feelings are not your responsibility, though, and I wouldn't wish to burden you with them." He gives that sheepish little smile at the kiss.

"But I am glad you're whole and well this morning. I don't like battle either, but if you run into one again, just remember that I do have experience in it? You can always call on me as an ally." He's aware his mobility is ever an issue, but she's seen how powerful his shields are, and he's a resource as a tactician if she's not in the thick of things.

Finally, he picks up the roll again and actually tastes it. "Mmmn. And these are brilliant!"

[sunandshadows]

"Oh, la!" She makes a slight noise, then turns and breaks a piece of her bacon off to feed one of the better-behaved cats.

"How can feelings be a responsibility? You are not a machine, Maxim. I am not speaking to a toaster, or a lamp. You are a man. You have feelings. I have feelings. Vous etre mon ami. If I call you friend, how can I not care for how you feel? And most particularly how you feel about my actions and behavior? I am not made of stone, nor am I..."

She starts to laugh, shaking her head. "Nor am I going to spoil a sunny day with a lecture that I need neither to give, nor you to receive."

She wants to run her fingers through his beard again or even through his hair but instead settles for reaching around him and giving him a one-armed hug/squeeze type thing. "Should I find myself facing a battle, rest assured - I will likely have called on you already."

Keen blue eyes read his face, focusing on his mouth, then his eyes. "Truly? They are not overspiced? I had been concerned but - if you really like them? I'll not change the recipe.

[bitterguardian]

"Oh-!" When she hugs him, he smiles a little and frees up one arm to squeeze her back gently. Now that he's getting more comfortable with her, he makes a very huggable teddy bear. Maybe the beard helps. He'd prefer not to grow it and his hair out so long he ends up looking like Merlin, though.

"I didn't mean you can't care, just that you're not responsible for my reactions to anything. Mmh, but never mind. The rolls are lovely, but we'd better return to journeying after breakfast. If I hang around here letting you feed me too long, I won't be able to walk anymore..." A little being spoiled is nice, but he does feel slightly overwhelmed by her cooking and coddling.

[sunandshadows]

"It's nearly noon now, so by the time you are ready, I should be about done with cleanup after breakfast." Oh look, more cats. All come sitting around begging after that first piece of bacon was doled out.

Mara's fingers work swiftly, breaking the bread into small, cat's-mouth sized pieces and doling them out, feeding them from her hands. Each cat got at least one piece, and the oldest and youngest each got two. That, for her, was fair. None of the cats were pregnant, none had new kits. Otherwise the feeding would have gone far differently.

"I don't believe we need a tent, but I did bring a tarp that we can pin down. And this time, we shall have something other than sticks and leaves to sleep on." Her eyes meet his curiously.

"It will only take me a moment to ready myself, my things are packed now. So while you make yourself ready, may I pack some food and a few other small items into your bag for you?"

[bitterguardian]

"Nearly noon already?? I did sleep late..." He's a little dismayed, and hurries to eat a piece of bacon before it can end up being claimed for the cats.

"Of course. There's nothing private, in the pack. And I should refill the water canteens before we go." He even forwent most of the toiletries, since things like shaving aren't a priority while hiking in the woods. It's mostly cooking gear, canned food, and a roll of toilet paper. There's a flint and tinder and an old pocketknife too, just in case. Horvath is always a little wary of relying too heavily on his magic for the basics. Of course, by the time she's done with it, he should have ample food supplies.

"A tarp... would be useful. I should have brought a proper blanket, before. I suppose I was anxious to go, and not thinking properly..."

[sunandshadows]

"Well, all things considered, I did not make it home until after two a.m." She brushes her hands together over her plate, any remaining crumbs to fall there instead of her lap. "And we did not sleep for a while after that."

Oh yes, now that she has his permission? His pack will end up with a considerable amount of comfort items that weren't in the pack initially. The canned goods (with their weight) will be gone, replaced by lighter-weight packages. Meals cooked, easily eaten cold. Others wrapped in tin foil to be placed in the fire.

Small containers of spices, other things that would make a meal, and a night so much more cozy. Lifting her pack and his, she checks the weight, and then again after she had added tarp and blankets to both. Tucked away next his flint and steel were waterproof matches. He also gets the small
first aid kit.

Both packs are readied, and wait by the front door and Mara is standing in the sunlight, looking out the kitchen window when she hears him moving back to the front of the house from the bedroom area. She hasn't bothered to change, after all, what is one night or two in the forest?

"I am ready when you are, my friend."

[bitterguardian]

He's quick to finish eating, and while she's working on their packs, he levers himself up and seeks the privacy of the bedroom to check the stump of his leg, which has healed from the blisters thanks to Mara's care and a little healing magic. Once the prosthetic is back on, he stands carefully, testing. He's a little sorry to set aside the crutches, so elegantly made, but he's also glad to have a hand free and be back on two feet, even if one isn't real. It makes him feel more normal, despite the need for a cane.

He emerges looking not quite the same as the man Mara first observed from her perch in the trees. The suit is the same, mended and cleaned. He's back on two feet and walking with a rocking limp that seems relatively comfortable for him. The beard is grown up both checks, greying there, and he's got a more cheerful expression, but these are not the only differences. He seems lighter, less burdened with some unseen weight, and the looks he gives her is a fond smile.

"Two packs, this time? You look like a proper hiker." He's teasing a little, but comes over and rests the cane against the cabinets to pull his own pack on. Now that he's feeling better, he is able to walk a step or two without the cane at all.

*short reply is short, sorry!*

[sunandshadows]

"I know. Quite unlike me, isn't it? Wearing clothes, bringing a pack, and not sleeping in trees? Perhaps you should check my forehead, I may be running a fever!" She's watching how he walks as she speaks, and if anything her smile grows wider.

Of course she doesn't truly look like a proper hiker. She's shoeless, and in another one of those (completely inappropriate for hiking) brightly colored, brightly trimmed dresses. But then again, she's no longer the homeless ragamuffin, woman-child waif in the wild, either.

"I will open a gate and bring us back to the cave, from there it take perhaps a single night at most to reach our goal." She doesn't say why she couldn't or wouldn't call a gate closer to his rare plant, she just opens the front door before them with a dramatically energetic gesture, waving him through and grabbing her pack by the shoulder strap before locking the front door behind them both. The key gets put back in it's hiding place, and Mara steps out into the afternoon sun, her ponytail jauntily bobbing behind her.

It's all good!

[bitterguardian]

"Oh, no, by this point love, I'd only be surprised if you ceased to surprise me." He gives a lock of her hair a gentle tweak in passing. She is a changeable creature, ever showing him new faces, and he's perfectly charmed by that. Yet... has he ever seen her wear shoes? Surely she does, sometimes, and that will come as a surprise down the road.

The rocking limp is distinctive, but it's a matter of balance and working with an ankle that barely flexes, not a sign of discomfort. The crutches were an easier and faster way to move, but there's some subtle change to his self-image. With the prosthetic, he feels almost whole again. After a few minutes of walking on it, he forgets that he misses the crutches at all. Longer though the walk might be, Horvath does not question resuming their journey right where it left off. All else aside, that only seems fair. A quest, after all, is not just about the goal item one seeks, but the journey along the way. He learned that a very long time ago, and this one has only reinforced the idea.

"Thank you, again. Thanks to you I've found more along the way than I ever expected... the aglaophotis seems a less urgent need, now." His pace is, as before, a little slower than hers might be, but there's energy in his step all the same.

Re: It's all good!

[sunandshadows]

She shakes her head at him, an easy grin wide across her face. There he goes again, thanking strange women in wild forests. Still, the only thing that she's even thought to complain about as they travel along is the fact that her dress is becoming stifling and uncomfortable. It's all in her head, she knows this. She KNOWS this. But the desire to rip the sleeves off, the desire to shed the (admittedly light) weight is slowly building.

'I've spent too much time out in the wild and too much time alone', she thinks to herself, mentally forcing herself to continue strolling by Horvath's side. He's set a good pace for walking, and a good pace to converse without breathing hard.

She starts up a story, something lighthearted, about how one of her fellow couriers would stop by. One of the many 'Robin Goodfellows' "You do realize there is more than one, yes? It is a name that umm, well - I've used it myself on occasion or two" Mara confesses, with a twinkle in her eyes.

"Any time he was in the area, he would always - without fail - spoil the milk in the house. Fresh that morning, or freshly store-bought, it made no difference to him. It grew to be rather exasperating, for all that I enjoyed his company on occasion."

The end of the story is told when Mara explains how she offered him homemade frozen yogurt on his last visit, then spoke of her appreciation for the 'spoiled milk' because without it, she never would have been able to make dessert. "And he hasn't touched my milk since" She laughs.

[bitterguardian]

Now that he takes life at a quieter pace (at least most of the time), Horvath prefers not to be out of breath. All his life he's been self-conscious, particularly once he hit his last growth spurts and shot up taller than his master, and in his old age he's even more so. He'd prefer not end up panting for breath and looking even more out of shape than he actually is. Left to set the pace, he's on the slow side, although his long legs help make up for it.

"I didn't, quite, but I can't say that I'm surprised." He comments, but after a thoughtful pause adds, "But I am flattered to have the company of someone who's used the name."

The story gets a smile and a few chuckles, and the tale she tells is making the walk itself an easier one. Distance always seems shorter when it's covered with a friend and a good story or two. "When we were boys, Bel and I got into no end of trouble..." It's not a polished, proper story, but he does fall into reminisce of his younger days, when he was not quite a child, but certainly not yet a man, and knew just enough magic to wreak utter havoc. He tells of himself and Balthazar sometimes playing magic pranks on each other with an added layer of secrecy because Merlin would have scolded them both severely (and sometimes did, because they did get caught), other times conspiring together against other boys and girls their own age. Once, he says they were visiting at Camelot and one of the knight's sons was obnoxious to him. A youthful Max had mentioned his own interests in swordplay and other such pursuits in an attempt to be friendly, only to have the other boy's advantages in training and being destined for knighthood snobbishly rubbed in his face. Bel apparently filled the boy's practice armor with tiny frogs, via a hex, resulting in utter chaos when he was readying for training. Merlin gave him a thorough talking to for it, and Balthazar later told Max he didn't regret it for a moment. "And how could I not be pleased that he'd get revenge for my sake, and take the punishment without flinching? Bel was always full of that kind of loyalty..."

[sunandshadows]

She giggles at the idea of an entire suit of armor filled with tiny frogs, and her smile gets less mirthful and more soft as Max goes into another discussion about his friend Bel. Idly she wonders, if she were having this conversation with his friend - would Belshazar be as complementary toward Maximus? It intrigues her, and she's starting to look forward to meeting this sorcerer friend of Max's who is so in need of a home-cooked meal.

Another hour goes by, and finally she stops, shrugging the backpack off her shoulders and letting it fall down next to an old hardwood tree trunk.

"Max, I must beg your indulgence for just a minute, I swear. Besides, is this not a beautiful place to rest?"

She gives him a half-smile and disappears around a large tree, and comes back from the other side with her hair flying loose and a ball of material in hand that she stuffs into her pack. Yes, she took her dress off. Yes, she's now dressed in one of her under-dresses, white linen and white lace. She feels so much better now and when they start walking abain, she begins to skip along beside him, and climb over (and jump off of) tree stumps. It's a gradual thing, one habit at a time coming back to her as she loses the air of civility and takes on a more pixieish pattern of behavior. But she hasn't started rhyming yet, oh no. Not yet.

As she walks, (and skips, and sings snatches of songs) Mara's keeping a covert but close eye on Horvath's leg, and probably suggests more breaks than she should, but as she knows where she is going, she doesn't want them to overdue it the first day.

Finally, she looks around and asks him if he wants to stop for the night. It's still a little early, and they are going by a small quick-flowing stream.

[bitterguardian]

Through his flattering tales, Balthazar is loyal, friendly, eager-to-please and clever. By contrast his younger self comes off as socially clumsy, intelligent, but just a little bit of a troublemaker. He has nothing but fondness for Balthazar, clearly, even when he tells of boyhood competition and arguments. They were young, and such things happen.

Horvath is content to take the journey at an easy pace, no longer pushing himself for the sake of appearances. Whenever she calls for a rest, he'll take it, sitting and stretching out his leg to take the pressure off for a while. Only once, toward early evening, does he take the opportunity of a rest to lay a painkilling spell on himself. He's a little surprised to have gotten that far before needing it. Her disrobing may get the faintest of blushes, but he sees women more scantily clad in New York summers, and he's quick to grow used to it. He does tease her about being part squirrel, the way she scrambles and leaps around.

"I suppose if we go on, we may not find as good a campsite as this." He does pause to squint thoughtfully at the early evening sun. "As long as it's not too lazy of us, this is fine, yes. You know the distance we have to go better than I." It probably wouldn't hurt him to make an early evening of it, instead of pushing on until he's sore again.

[sunandshadows]

If they push on together, they'd be there before midnight. However, why push today when it will still be there tomorrow? And if she was correct, they'd get there early enough in the day that they could relax, and Max would have time to do what it was that he come all this way to do. Especially since the sky was clear, and there was no feeling of change in the wind. Tomorrow would be as good a day as today, even here so far from her home.

Idly she wonders if they would part there, and he would go on his way after he found what he had meant to find. Although she had prepared for the possibility, she really hadn't thought out the reality of parting ways there at the rare, red peony once he had collected what he needed and perhaps done that cleansing he had set out to do.

She begins to set up their camp, collecting twigs and small branches, clearing the area for a fire. And finding the right place for their make-shift tarp tent, one that will keep the breeze to their backs.

"So, will you to the nexus go, once you've found your..." She drops a branch, turns and gives him a slightly embarrassed look of her own.

"That is to say, will you be going on from there, once we've found your Aglaophotis, Maxim?"

[bitterguardian]

Horvath himself doesn't seem to feel there's any urgency, now, so they might as well make the trip as pleasant as possible. As she began to set up camp, Horvath falls to the less mobile tasks, clearing a space of debris for the fire, where it will be close enough to the tent to give warmth through the night, but far enough away not to be a fire risk. As she brings twigs and branches, he levers himself down to one knee and works on arranging them into a proper shape for starting a fire, and pulls food out of their packs for a meal.

The question makes him pause, and glance at her just a little warily. "I... had planned to go home, yes. I could use a shave, and I do miss the girls. But if you're free, I'd love to take you to visit the Nexus after a day or two?" Goodbye, to his mind, need not be more than a temporary thing.

"...I have so few friends, I'm hardly about to let you get away if I can help it." He adds with a smile. "And good lord you packed a lot of food."

[sunandshadows]

"I packed for the eventuality of your leaving tomorrow. There is enough there between the two packs, for a meal or three. Even if you include your girls and Belshazar as well." She noticed his look.

"Yes, of course. And I want you to take all of it. Even the pack itself if need be, to carry. Um, minus my dress of course. I will retrieve the pack itself when I come to visit you!" She beams, delighted to find that she had planned correctly. Of course her delight is bittersweet with the knowledge that she was right and they will indeed be parting there.

"A day or two?" She turns and blinks at him, trying to think. What day was this again? What were her duties, did she have anything she knew of that was coming up?

"May we make it three then? I had planned on another night in this area at least, and then perhaps a little time to wander... and when I get home I should make something for your thin friend, I think. So three days would be about right for me, if it sits well with you?"

And she sighs, letting go the branches in her hands, and slows her walk as well, back to a normal gait instead of her frolicsome forest 'squirrel' style.

"Maxim" Her hand comes up to stroke his beard lightly. "I will not be lost to you. I may not always be able to come to visit in your city of stone and steel, but someday - if you allow - I would greatly love to see your library. I would love to meet these girls who are such a part of your life. And I would even be delighted to meet your friend in this nexus you speak of."

"I am not going far, and if I do I still shall return. For I have too few that I consider true friends, and I'm not willing to lose you to time, nor distance."

As she moves away, she gives a parting comment, her grin suspiciously close to a smirk. "I am sad about the beard however, that you plan to cut it. It makes you quite touchable."

[bitterguardian]

Kneeling to set up the fire, he glances up at his name, and gives a bashful little smile at the touch on his beard. "You... might not like the place, I suppose. Stone and steel indeed, and the vault and library buried deep under layers of that... but it's home."

He lifts a hand to run over his mustached and beard, a little amused, then sits back and lights the fire with a vague wave of his hand. It's a cheat and he knows it, but he's feeling a little lazy. "No offense to my old master, but I'd prefer not to wind up looking like him. But you're allowed to touch me with or without it." Another beard-stroking, as he looks thoughtful. "I do wonder what Bel will think, when I come home hairy and bearing a feast." The latter, he definitely won't be expecting. "...And don't tell him I said he's scrawny? Three days should be fine. Perhaps the girls will be on speaking terms with me again, by then. Especially if I share some of the food."

((fuzzybeard.))

[sunandshadows]

She's looking for leaves now, big bundles that she piles into a pocket she's made of part of her skirt.

"It is the man that I would truly be coming to see. And if that is where I needs be to find you, mon ami; that is surely where I shall go. Hearing you speak of it, it sounds like it has a charm all it's own, one that I'd be honored to visit. In spite of what lies above it." She thinks about it, nods firmly. "In fact, it might help - your home under the ground. With you below ground as you are, you would be separated from the steel and concrete above. Separated by a distance that is filled with good earth."

She comes back with leaves, and sets them on the ground. Proceeding to create the tarp tent, she searches for more leaves and quickly makes up a make-shift mattress, covered over with blankets. At last Mara heads out to get them fresh water, empty canteens in their carrier pouches are slapping together as she walks. "I have not a clue what your old master looked like. But were you to keep your beard that short and trimmed, you'd still be considered a handsome man. Just - more pet-able perhaps."

The words float back to him, the woman is not in sight.

When she does return, the canteens have been filled and are hanging by their carrier straps off her right shoulder. In her left hand, she has a surprise. A fist-sized chunk of honeycomb, dripping and fresh, and wrapped in some of large maple leaves. Mmm, sticky fingers.

"I would never say such to his face, worry not on that score. It would be" She searches for a word "Rude. Simply rude."

[bitterguardian]

Every time she says he's handsome, his brain can't quite believe what his ears are hearing. Although she has seen him on the astral plane, where he looks as close to his younger self as he's ever likely to. He was, he thinks, not too shabby a figure, then. Perhaps having seen the dashing warrior that still lives very much in his soul has shaped her image of him. On the other hand, dashing soldier and cuddly teddy bear are not quite the same thing, and he's not sure which she thinks he is.

While he's considering how she sees him, his mouth rambles on. "Oh, some of the images that persist aren't so far off. Long white beard and hair- when I knew him, at least. I couldn't say what he looked like when he was younger, because he was already an old man by the time he bought me for an apprentice." He doesn't intend to shave off his beard completely, of course- that's a short ticket to showing off a double chin, but he prefers to keep it to a van dyke style, especially now that what grows up his cheeks shows so much grey. Vanity thy name is Maximus.

When he does glance around for her, she's already slipped off between the trees, so he contents himself with putting food on to heat, since what she's packed leaves very little in the way of actual cooking needed. It's a pleasant change from the beans and rice, jerky, and soup he brought along for his own camping rations. With so little work to prepare it, their meal is nearly ready on her return. "What have you got there? Is that... don't tell me, you charmed the bees into letting you have a piece?" He's pleasantly surprised, and looks in a pack for some bread they can put the honey on.

"Honestly though, Bel's less touchy than I am, I think. And he never cared much about his looks. I used to be jealous, even if he was terrible about not bothering to brush his hair. Still is, actually."

[sunandshadows]

"Oh but bees are ever eager to be charmed, did you not know?" She gives her best innocent-wild child look, complete with head tilted to the side and hair that is rapidly becoming a tangled waterfall of curls.

While he looks for the bread she packed, she's looking at the honeycomb in the setting sunlight, admiring the rich amber color and reaching out with the pinky of her opposite hand to catch some dripping honey on it, then stick it into her mouth to enjoy the delicious sweetness. As soon as he has the bread ready, she is passing over the honey without a second thought, and another finger goes into her mouth. Sticky is again the watchword here.

"So your friend does not keep his hair short and neat as yours is?" Mara is starting to get an image in her mind of this friend of Horvath's and is quietly betting herself that she will know the man on sight.

Dinner is good, a combination of leftovers, and food that she'd prepared especially for the journey. As he eats where he is, she's either sitting on a rock, kneeling on the forest floor, or leaning against a tree. Whatever she is doing, it's not resting, or relaxing at all. It's as if there is a ball of energy just under her skin, keeping her up and moving, either standing to watch the sun go down, or breathing deeply of the evening air.

Dinner over, she washes her hands in the brook near the camp, returning to help pick up. The packs she seizes by their straps, and without a thought she's up and climbing up into a not-too-far tree, climbing high and hanging the packs away, out of reach of any forest animals that come calling. Climbing back down toward the campsite, she decides to stop and rest on a lower branch, stomach down and her legs crossed behind her.

"Maxim" Her voice calls from above him in the tree. "We must amend our deal, we two. We'd made a pact to tell two tales, one for to and one for from. We shall be parting there, only one tale is required. And we have both fulfilled our ends of the bargain."

[bitterguardian]

"I must confess, I'm not well-versed in beespeak, or their ways." He looks amused, and just a little charmed himself. There's the half-wild fae girl he first met. He accepts the honey with care, but there's no way not to get sticky, and despite making good use of the bread he, too, ends up having to lick his fingers clean.

"Bel? No, even now his hair's long. I'd harass him about looking like a hippie, but I think that fad's passed. No beard, except when he forgets to shave, and then it's all five o'clock shadow, and somehow he still pulls off looking... better than me." It's a slightly awkward way to end the sentence, something left unsaid. "...But I suppose we were always something of polar opposites. He was close to blonde, when we were younger, and blue eyes and fair skin, thinner and a little shorter than me..." Whether he's thinking of Bel as he is now, or as he was when they were young, is hard to say.

They've had dessert already, but he manages to eat well, settled in to sit on the ground. Where she flits around, he's very stationary, and even scrapes out the dishes a little from where he sits. They can be washed more thoroughly later, in the brook. Only when she's putting up the food does he try levering himself slowly and carefully to his feet, stretching a little. When she's settled in the tree, he makes a slow circuit of the camp, careful to include her perch, and sets some light wards. They won't stop her coming and going, but it will provide just enough warning and protection to let him feel safe removing the prosthetic to sleep.

"Oh? We've both told quite a few, for that matter, more than one each. No bedtime story, then?" He glances up at her with a smirk, stopping just under her branch.

[sunandshadows]

There he was! She leaned down, stretched out her arm to try and tousle the top of his head, but her fingers couldn't stretch that far down. Her hair tumbled over the side as well, falling to nearly the length of her fingertips. She could almost touch him, almost! Her fingers were so close!

She sees his face down there looking up at her and snatches her hand back with a grin and a quick laugh. He spotted her!

"Oh we can have a story, or a bed story, or even a story about beds should you choose! The difference seeker, is that you would want to, but not have to."

Seeker? Did she just say seeker? Mara shook her head, momentarily irritated with herself.

"That is, what kind of bedtime story would you like to tell or listen to? Or a song perhaps?"

[bitterguardian]

She may not be able to reach the top of his head, but when her hair tumbles down, he reaches up a long arm to try to tweak a lock of it gently, grinning right back up at her. Looking up like that, he does have to shift on his feet a little, bracing himself for balance, but it's worth it for her expression.

"I don't know any stories about beds..." He pauses, blushing faintly. "At least none I'd care to share." He may be slightly awkward about it, but Horvath is no virgin.

He limps to the tent just a short ways off, eyeing the makeshift mattress/ Is that a bed for just one? How she can find a tree a comfortable sleeping spot, he'll never understand. But she can call him Seeker as long as she likes. It's not a bad nickname, one that applies beyond his current hunt for aglaophotis. "And I'm not much of a singer. Let me see... a light story, perhaps? Something short and silly..." He eases down onto the bed she's made, and rolls up his pantsleg to loosen the brace for the prosthetic.

[sunandshadows]

"Ah, you do not? Well I've one or two that can be told, of long ago before my birth. A consort dark and consort bold, and his fae-queen wife who roamed the earth."

She can see him through the leaves when the breeze blows, so she remains right where she is, comfy as a cat, lying on the branch that is barely wider than she herself. Oh, later she might climb down, and curl up against his back for a little while before the dawn, but for now? Now the night is coming. And she has much frolicking and exploring and playing to do before it is time to rest.

She proceeds to recite a tale of a man and his wife, in disguise and traveling through the countryside of France in a great, comfortable carriage. They have a secret, this man and wife - they are newly wed, mortal to Fae - and are celebrating their union far away from court; both his, and hers.

The two of them stop in a small ville, and without their coachman knowing, an unscrupulous stable boy sneaks a bottle of their private stock, thinking that it is simply a bottle of his lordship's wine.

"But non, oh no Maxim. This was the rare and powerful Sidhe mead, strong enough to intoxicate the fae, strong enough to bring lust of the body, or lust of the blood. It has caused madness and inspired great works of art and music. Some cultures would call it one thing, and some another. But knowledge of how it is made is a closely guarded secret, even among the shining ones."

So the story continues. Through a series of mistakes, fumbling and deceit the bottle starts getting passed around. The most of it ends up being poured into what's left of the cask of the innkeeper's own wine, and that's when the fun starts. At the end of the tale, the lord and lady find themselves waking in a haystack in a field the next day and make their way out slowly to find the entire town in chaos and disarray. Some buildings are burning, people are in various states of dress or undress, and either hail lord and lady, or shy away, muttering of strange brews and enchantments.

"To this day, there are many families living there still, who can trace their beginnings back to that night and to the mead-enhanced vigor of his lordship's mighty staff and his lady's blessing and willing participation."

"The children's story is much different from the reality of long ago, of course. These days it speaks of how, in the midst of harvest time, an Elfen lord and his lady were found on the road after being attacked and overcome by brigands. the townsfolk took them in and aided them back to health. And in turn they blessed this town of kindly humans with" She coughs delicately "Prosperity, for their good and kindly acts. Prosperity indeed!"

[bitterguardian]

In truth he wasn't sure who was going to be the one telling a story, but he settles on the mattress, lying on his back where he's able to glimpse her through the leaves in return. Positioned as they are, she can see his face when parts of the story evoke grins and soft chuckles. As long as it's not personal, he can enjoy a dirty joke or a tale of sexual adventures as much as anyone else. "Prosperity? Fertility seems an even better term... the world should hear more stories from the fae perspective, really..." He stifles a yawn, amused.

"I should begin asking payment for things in stories, myself... but you may have to give me a few minutes to come up with a match for that tale..." He's a little worn out by the day's travel, even if it was a short day, and he's gotten comfortable in the warmth of the low fire.