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]

"I suppose-" Horvath pauses, blinks at her, then lets out one of those little wheezy chuckles that seem to involve his entire body. "That could be taken the wrong way, you know. Keep those flowers in your hair and talk like that, and somebody's going to take you for a hippie." He tweaks a lock of her hair, careful not to disturb the flowers.

"A tea is an excellent idea, though, and it will be more potent, so fresh." He feels no great need of privacy for that, as he would if he were planning some kind of bath or oil.

[sunandshadows]

"Taken wrongly?" She blinks at him, her head tilted to the side and her eyes not-understanding at first. Mara thinks, looks down at the ground and her bared feet and then back up toward his smile, the sudden grin of knowledge bright on her face.

"An' who do you think they got the idea from in the first place, these flower children who ran barefoot and adorned? With their hedonistic ways, and their love of peace? Good Merlinian, tell me that you don't recognize at least a bit of shining hand in this?"

"Or then, it could have been as simple as a moonlight stroll and mushroom circle, and pixie dust beneath the moon that captured those few in the beginning, and so caught the passions of a generation."

Spinning away, she leans away in the sunlight, just out of his reach and holds out a hand as she winks and beckons to him. "Oh come you away human lord, to the fields and the fjords, with a fairy go in hand, for the world's more full of pleasures than e'en you may understand!'

And with a giggle she is off and away, off to gather up wood for a small fire for the sorcerer's tea.

[bitterguardian]

For just a moment, watching her dancing just out of reach, he remembers again all the warnings of his youth. She is, at times, every inch the capricious, enticing, unknowable sort of being even his old master described the fae as. It makes him value the moments she's touchable and deeply human all the more, but kneeling on the ground, open Encantus on his knee, he suffers a flickering pang of longing to leap up and follow that he knows his body cannot obey. If there is any external sign of this, it's just a slight twitch in his smile, then she's off and away, and the instant he sees her picking up firewood he's reminded of the work at hand.

A tea, to remove any last lingering trace of that... thing's touch, which might sully his own magic in the future. Shub Nigrauth's attempts at forbidding prophecy, the cloying voice and soul-sickening temptations, all have faded and been washed away in the healing touch of Mara's sanctuary home. Something there has done him more good than any simple herb ever could, but there remains this last act to make sure he's free of the detritus of his eldritch encounter.

While she's gathering, he leaves his book and levers himself to his feet, clearing a space a safe distance away for the fire. He couldn't bear to risk so much as wilting the petals of the living plant with the nearby heat. The other pieces of the plant she's collected for him, he seals carefully in the thermos, saving a little bark and vine for brewing.

[sunandshadows]

"Oak, good and strong. White pine, cleansing, oh yes. Good, good. And Birch as well? Thank you Birch" She whispers as she picks up sticks off the ground, looking at the bark on each one before choosing to keep or drop them back on the forest floor. Words, lessons she's learned, that she mixes with a soft humming noise. There are specific branches that she is looking for, specific varieties that she wants. Not just to create a fire, but the type of woods that would work best in a cleansing ritual.

"Here you are seeker!" Her arms are full of twigs, small and larger branches, and she nods in approval at the site he's chosen to build the fire. Crouching down, she starts breaking the larger ones down into the size to fuel a small fire.

"Tell me, if you can; when you leave to your nexus? And will there be a door that opens here, showing stars beyond? Or mist that rises, or swirling lights that bloom? Will you take a step to the right, and be gone from my sight? How does one come and go from your nexus?" She is very proud of herself, she thinks she sounds casual, just curious. And where and how may we meet again, if that is what you still desire?"

[bitterguardian]

"Oh, goodness... that's perfect." He can appreciate her choices of fuel, recognizing them for the same properties for which she chose them. While she sets up the fire, he pulls out kettle and canteens, preparing to run a quick purifying spell on the water even before he heats it for tea. "Well, from here, I'd intended to first go straight home. But now that I've been there and know my way back, there are two methods to reach it. There's always the PINpoints- little electronic devices that allow teleportation between coordinates. I didn't bring it with me, on this journey. It seemed too much like... cheating, if that makes any sense? But travel using them, first you're simply one place, then you're somewhere else. It's a bit disorienting. Not everyone can do magic, though. They're very useful." He's comfortable using his now, but it took a while to get used to.

"To get from here to home, the way sorcerers usually travel, is more like what you're probably used to. It's closer to opening a gate... except that you pull the gate around you, like a cloak... mm. It's a very small fold in space, designed to quickly self-correct. I'm not sure how to describe what it looks like... a brief rippling opening from one place into another." She'll get to see that, when he does go. "I can get anywhere I've been, so long as I've marked it well enough in my mind. I'd thought... perhaps I could come for you at the house you took me to?" He's certainly memorized the place well enough to return to it.

[sunandshadows]

Nod, nod. "A quest, a real quest? Involves a journey, not simply the destination. Growth of mind, or soul, or heart. A machine to bring you here and back teaches you nothing. Gives you nothing but ingredients."

Softer, she continues, "I am honored to have been part of your quest, Maximus, Merlinian and friend. Thank you."

Mara starts setting the wood down, creating a small pyramid with the smaller twigs and bark, even dried grasses on the inside. And the larger sticks and twigs on the outside. She's doing it very carefully. If the fire catches right, first these twigs and this bark will go up. That will catch these branches over here. And then soon, the whole thing with fall, the east branches to the west, the north ones to the south. It will fall upon a bed of already made hot coals, and be ready for a small pot of water to go right on top.

"But I think that soon, we must part." She's biting her lower lip, concentrating on those last few sticks that she's setting up. A few of the longer, autumn-dried pieces of grass get woven through to provide just a bit more stability in case the wind comes up.

"And oui, mon ami, come for me when you can to my other home. Leave you a message on the door, if I am not there. I shall find it and be ready by the time you return, before another day passes." Her eyes look up from her project, and find his.

"But I think that the time draws close when we should part. You started this on your own, it is only right that you finish it in sacred solitude and introspection. I - my nature - cannot make me naught but a distraction now."

"This is your journey and your quest, ma chere, I needs must let you complete it." There is a hitch in her voice, and a suspicious shine to her eyes though her smile is real. The red peonies have circled around the back of her head now and have wound delicately over her brow; blooming flowers causing a living coronet.

She stands, then, wiping her hands on her shift. "Maxim, I must go."

[bitterguardian]

He could help her build the little pyre, that will soon help brew his tea. The way her hands work the twigs and grasses together is strangely mesmerizing, though, and he finds himself simply watching, meditative, but listening. Their parting is close at hand, and now that he's paying attention he can hear the little catches in her voice, detect all the little signs that she's struggling with the upcoming goodbye. He's had so many goodbyes in his life, and this one he firmly intends to be temporary, so what's one more? He listens to her talk, and says nothing, but swallows, once. Shutting down, going still and quiet, is always easier than some emotional display.

When she stands, he realizes his face is probably set in stone, a careful blank, and she deserves so much better than that. Once again, she's on her feet, and he's sitting on the ground, and he's sure he couldn't get up fast enough to reach her if she decided to whirl away and go, now. Instead he forces himself to look up, composed but quietly pained, and if any distress in his eyes gives her pause, it's not really intentional on his part. "You've been the most important part of it. Please... 'Mara..." What to say? Not goodbye. He's had far too many. If each goodbye were a pebble, he's standing on a mountain of them. "Plant that for me? I'll be back in a few days to check up on it..." His smile is a struggle, and he's sure the offhanded words are inadequate, but perhaps she'll see past them. He only hopes she knows him well enough for that.

[sunandshadows]

Part of her wants to go (away, away e'er break of day!) but she holds that part down tight, unwilling to let it loose now. Soon yes, but not now.

She looks down at Horvath silently with large eyes and tangled hair, and then carefully kneels down right in front of him. Close enough to reach out and touch. Close enough to hug.

"Maxim" She whispers as she opens her arms wide and leans forward. Reaching out for him, to hug him close and feel his strength and his warmth once more. "C'nes pas au revoir. C'est a tout a l'heure! It is not goodbye. I shall see you again, and soon." She squeezes him tight as she rests her cheek on his, whispering in his ear.

"And I shall care for your gift as I would my own. I promise you this truthfully with no bargaining; nothing asked for and nothing offered but the chance to see you once more; the chance for you to come and visit, and to rest in safety a while. For you travel far, and the day is long." Pulling back just a bit, she lifts her head and looks into his eyes.

Slowly, not looking away, the faeling lifts her forefinger up to her mouth. Kissing her finger, Mara reaches out toward the sorcerer to gently press her kiss to his skin.

[bitterguardian]

Very soon, because whoever does the leaving first probably has the easier job, and he needs his tea still, and a quiet space, even if he's not sure that's what he wants, anymore.

Something in his heart- and his expression eases a little when she kneels close by him. One last hug is all he could ask for, if he knew how to ask for that at all. The way he's quick to draw her in and wrap long arms around her says enough, though. Maxim Horvath is warm and solid and steady, a little weathered from the long ages, but enough of a rock to have endured that history and still come through it all very much himself. He holds on for a good long moment, taking as much reassurance from the lithe little figure in his arms as she seems to take from him, and lets her go very gently, hands sliding down her arms before he lets go. "Thank you. You've been a sanctuary I didn't know I needed." This time his smile comes easier, even if it is just a little sad. The journey he's on is painfully long, but her gifts have helped him immensely, enough to ease the weight of time on him for a good while to come.

When she presses the kissed finger to his face, there's the familiar little sheepish edge to his smile, but he tilts his face into the touch. "Thank you. Go dance, for me, and scatter your light through the forest. I'll be back for you soon."

[sunandshadows]

"I shall, and shall dance for you all the dances that you had not the time to see on this journey of yours. But there may be other quests in our future, Maxim. Oh oui, there may yet be others to come."

Rocking back on her heels, the faeling slips out of his arms and back - up - and away. If she had thought about it, she would have liked to have gone stately, like a lady. But no, the sun was bright, the autumn day was warm. The wind brought the tang of oak leaves to dance in, the distant scent of almost over-ripened wild fruit to find and eat with berry-stained fingers and berry-stained lips, and the promise of an afternoon of watching the birds fly south from the branch of a high, old tree that swayed in the winds.

She begins to hum. The hum turns to a song as Mara walks, then skips, then dances out of sight. Snatches of girlish giggles and a few lines of a song are echoed back to him, until they too fade into the forest deep.

"...Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight..."

And she is gone.

[bitterguardian]

If she'd gone slow and stately, he would have worried, but seeing her dance and skip makes it easier to watch her go. He'll carry the memory of her bouncing along with the autumn leaves on the breeze, and it keeps his heart lighter than it has been. Horvath watches her until she's out of sight, and listens to the fading voice, and tends his fire.

The tea is made in silence, but he's at peace, rather than gloomy, and when he drinks it inside a ritual circle, he thinks of the other aglaophotis flowers, growing and blooming in her hair. Horvath stays with the fire, letting it die down of its own accord as the afternoon lengthens into evening. There's the whisper of a chill on the wind, winter to come, but he's still warm enough. When there are only embers left, he buries them neatly, and makes a thorough effort to remove all traces of his presence.

Well away from the still-growing bush, Horvath opens the doorway to home, pulls it around him, and steps forward to reunite with his cats, with Bel if he's around, and to reheat the food she's sent him with for an easy dinner. It will be good to be home, but tonight he'll dream of the wild woods, and a lilting voice echoing through them.