It seemed that once he had stepped cleanly out of the Etherion’s suspended hush, the tether remained—as one would expect. But thankfully it no longer bled through to give him that of her thoughts. If it tried, it was smothered beneath layers of distance so thick that his own awareness simply stepped around the oddity and moved on. Only registering the strangeness as one might note an unfamiliar star in the sky—curious, but irrelevant in the midst of fire.
Being addressed from two angles—one tethered, one tangible—was new. It suggested the bond had shifted shape, or perhaps it had always possessed that contour and Calia’s recent familiarity had simply drawn the veil aside. Right now he didn’t have time to indulge the puzzle. That speculation would be a luxury for quieter days, and this was clearly not one of them.
As the clearing teemed with life.
Faelings clustered in loose, trembling constellations—small winged flickers, lank-limbed youths, and those nearly grown enough that even Arc gave them a brief, assessing glance. They were everywhere, as if the roots of the dying tree had exhaled them in a final desperate breath. Their voices tangled together in brittle threads of panic and exhaustion. He rolled his shoulders once, figuratively and literally shedding hesitation as though it were a cloak. The first thing that had to be attended too was the very land itself!
The great tree loomed at the heart of it all, bark dulled to a sickly pallor, veins of corruption threading its trunk. Around it, the ground was a wound—soil spat out in clotted heaps like something the world itself had tried and rejected. Calia’s quick thinking had turned disaster into opportunity, but opportunity required cultivation.
He drew on magic that was not abyssal, not stained in brimstone or shadow. Tugging on the comfortable cadence of an elven archmage who had once shaped groves rather than graves. Hard to believe but factual at some point!
Arc lifted a hand and the air tightened in obedience. Wood rose from the ground in pliant ribbons, weaving themselves into low, curved shelters—huts no taller than a man’s shoulder, arched and layered to deflect wind and weather. He guided their growth with careful precision, ensuring their foundations sank firm and true. Within moments, small sanctuaries dotted the perimeter: spaces where the weakest could retreat, where the trembling could gather without the sky pressing down on them.
Fire followed—not the reckless inferno of a demon’s wrath, but a surgeon’s flame. Pressing his palm to the blighted soil and whispered heat into it, the ground glowed, then seethed. Flame sank downward instead of rising, burning deep and controlled. A foot of tainted earth blackened to sterile soot under his command, corruption cauterized rather than scattered. The heat shimmered in disciplined waves, stopping exactly where he willed it to stop.
Before the ash could smother the breath from the land, he summoned water. It did not crash in violent torrents but welled up through channels he carved with invisible pressure, surging in clear ribbons that soaked the charred soil. Steam rose in thick, sighing plumes as water met heat. The soot loosened, thinned, washed aside. To where he directed the runoff carefully away from the tree’s weakened roots, shaping shallow trenches with a curl of his fingers so the land might drink without drowning.
Naturally, earth itself had to come next! Once more hands were pressed into the dampened ground, and felt for its structure—its compacted misery. With steady, patient force, he coaxed it open. The soil shifted, crumbling into loam once more. Air threaded through it as he wove currents downward, aerating the earth so it could breathe again. Then he encouraged life, not grand blossoms but moss first—soft, resilient, humble. Seeding it through the loosened soil with a whisper of green intent, and within minutes faint threads spread outward, clinging to stone and root alike. Vines followed, delicate but determined, winding their way across the blackened patches to hold the healing ground together.
Keeping in mind that too much magic would make the land dependent on him. This had to be a recovery, not a replacement.
Only when the immediate blight was contained did he turn his attention outward. Still having other things to do that needed to be done.
The city of thieves lay in uneasy silence. Earlier chaos had driven many of its vermin to scatter, and Arc found little surprise in that. Freed fae and hellhounds had made a spectacle worthy of theatre; few mortals were foolish enough to linger when demons and ancient spirits tore through the streets. He did not particularly care what schemes had unraveled in the process. His concern was structural.
The aqueducts.
Calia had opened them in her former showsmanship and they did need some necessary refinement. Traced their lines through stone and mortar, mapping them in his mind. With subtle pulses of force, he widened certain channels, reinforced weak joints, and redirected flow where the incline had been poorly judged. Water, once chaotic, now moved with measured purpose. To be guided back toward the great tree—not as a flood of magic-born sustenance, but as a natural current. A lifeline that would persist after his hands withdrew.
It wasn’t really surprising that time begun to blur together and to wear itself clearly upon that of his form!
At some point, he stripped off his coat and cast it aside without ceremony. His shirt clung to him, smeared with soot and earth. Dirt marked his trousers to the knee. His hands bore the evidence of labor—blackened at the fingertips, faintly reddened from heat. Making no effort to keep such a state so perfectly clean because the work mattered more than his appearance did!
Only after the land had steadied into something resembling equilibrium did he turn to Calia’s request.
With the aid of the hellhounds—long-faced, ember-eyed creatures who moved with disciplined silence—he began the search. Keeping them close to act as a second and third senses, they lead him to where the problematic metal laid in looming hold.
He found the first shard half-buried beneath rubble, humming faintly with residual binding. Promptly studying the lattice of enchantment etched into its surface. Clever work. Brutal, but clever. Each fragment he uncovered was treated the same way: examined, mapped, then stripped of active resonance before being drawn into the hollow space within him. If he intended to reverse-engineer their construction, to unravel the principles that gave them teeth so it could act as a countermeasure, then he would need to study this. And by no damn means did he personally hold any illusions that Calia’s enemies wouldn’t try to use this shit some more.
Naturally he would have to tell her about all this, just so she wasn’t blindsided by his creative idea. When the last shard was secured and the hounds dismissed with a quiet nod – and a far warning that they had to continue to behave with no making anything around them into a nibbled feast-, Arc allowed himself to return to the gathered fae.
They were quieter now. Weary, thin-voiced, but steadier. Some huddled within the shelters he had grown. Others sat in loose clusters, watching the tree as if willing it to bloom.
And he did not move to stand amongst them like some sentinel. Instead, with a flick of his wrist, Arc did what he did best. Became a dramatic little diva that wouldn’t sit on the ground. Making a chair will into existence and ensuring it was absolutely a full length back. A cushion formed atop it from layered moss and softened bark, shaped to his preference. A small footstool followed, carved and smoothed in seconds. It was indulgent, perhaps, but deliberate. If he were to brood, he would do so without strain. And finally, he sat down.
He leaned back, stretching one long leg onto the stool, arms settling along the chair’s sides. Dirt streaked his clothes. His hair bore a faint dusting of ash. He looked every inch the archmage who had labored in the trenches rather than presided from a dais. Just with some added details with the softly pulsating horns and tapping claws as the violet stare swept over the faeries.
Brooding, yes—but not idle. Already his mind worked through routes, climates, sanctuaries that might accept them. Calculating distances. Assessing threats. Weighing who among the fae might prove ally or obstacle.
The land breathed more easily now. And for the first time since stepping from the Etherion, so did he.
That was the thing about magic and healing. It took time to wove and when you were deep in it, there was no telling if it were mere hours or several days. It surely didn’t help that faeries and demons themselves had little use for counting time. Eternal things never did.
As he worked, Calia slept and slept deeply. Swept away by dreams, for they always seemed to come during those moments where a great change had begun.
She’d grown so used to the unrelated blizzard of ice and now, so used to fighting and trudging her way through it – now it was gone. The howling wind had stilled to silence. The air clear and bright as a fresh winter day. No throne awaited her to sit upon, no bleeding mangled bodies strewn around her feet.
Yet, there was nothing as far as her eyes could see. Just smooth ice for miles and miles into the grey distance. Tentative she strode forward, hearing nothing but the crack of ice beneath her boots until the crackling of frost began to sound more like the shattering of glass. Everywhere strewn about the ice were reflecting shards, showing off the wide expanse of the sparkling stars and nebula up above. Not even her own reflection would show when she leaned over to inspect them.
Until all at once they were covered in a large shadow from above, with a glowing pair of amber slit eyes opening up like two half moons heralding a giant open mouth full of razing sharp teeth coming down to clamp around her.
She hadn’t screamed, hadn’t shirk, simply stood there and let it happen.
Calia awoke with a disgruntled huff, one obnoxiously heavy Lord Buttons loafed on her back, while the more slender Avia took residence curled under her arm. Was she well rest? Hard to say. Her lungs didn’t feel like hot acid and her mind had finally stilled back down to something manageable.
That was something, at least.
She immediately brushed her senses against the tether, however, and the moment she realized he wasn’t in the tower with her, Calia rolled out of bed. Didn’t shift out of the midnight blue gown she’d donned for comfort, didn’t bother with summoning up boots or brushing through her hair. While she didn’t know how to enter the tower yet without his escort, she did know how to leave it. Gently touching the bedroom knob and simply walking her way from one realm to the next, to set bare feet down on a new freshy mossy carpet.
The scene was not what she expected.
…Calia didn’t know what she expected.
She walked past him with a light acknowledging touch to the shoulder and arm, passing him like some nightsky draped ghost to inspect what sort of order he’d brought to the mess she’d left it – and it was order. The torrents of water she’d broken free without rhyme or reason had been channeled back into it’s ancient waterways to become a natural underground stream once again. The rot and taint of blood unwillingly given had been burned away and returned to the earth as some nurturing instead of poisoning.
Even the tree itself, though still ashen and weak, had been gifted new life to it’s roots. Ones risen out of the ground so that they might shelter creatures once again. Creatures that were all still lost but were grateful no longer being tortured or fed upon like living breathing meatsacks.
It was all quite ethereal and majestic the way she moved… until that one fae raccoon came flying out of nowhere and landing on her shoulders. Everyone’s eager interest began all at once – immediately seeming to activate Calia out of whatever awe she’d been wrapped up in back to her usual straight forward frustration with everyone’s nonsense. That raccoon was grabbed by the scuff and tucked under her arm with a scowl, then she got to work.
It wasn’t gentle the way she snatched up faeries, more like an impatient mother grabbing stuffies off the ground to place them where they belonged. One that looked sufficiently water-adaptable she tossed into the stream and once it got over the shock it seemed to recognize it had a job to do there. Another few she grabbed and full body slung at the tree itself where new leaves needed to be coaxed out of their hibernating slumber. A little bit of magic provided a grove of mushrooms and she threw more faeries. She hunted down some skittering cave beetles and dropped another faerie. At the far reaches of the cave walls, she pressed her hands to one of the faded gloomy crystals, took in a deep breath and literally hummed a soft note until it finally remembered what music was supposed to sound like. Another faerie.
Didn’t take the rest long to figure out there was work to be done here and unless they wanted to get kicked or bodily thrown at a task, they’d simply need to figure it out. Calia was not their keeper. Once they seemed to get the picture she held out that raccoon, shook him a little bit with that quite frustration and then set him loose.
There was no flash of magic, no loud shows of authority. In fact, all of the real work had been done by Archimedes, Calia simply made sure that none of it was going to go to waste and be abandoned.
At least when it was all done, she returned where he’d sat. Resting her hands on her hips and sighing a weary deflating sigh. Glancing him over from head to toe, where he very much looked like a man who’d spent all day working out in fields and doing one hell of a good job at it. A wonderful look on him and she was having those sudden intrusive impulses again. Ones that needed to go away!
“I’m sorry,” she told him plain and simple. “And thank you.”
Oh he felt the change in the tower with her departure and felt that of a passing touch that declared she had awoken once more. Yet, his gaze may have acknowledged her, he was still thinking. Deep in its brooding hold that worked perfectly well for simply being at least visually able to bare witness to Calia’s means of orderly arrangement of the creatures of fairytales and nonsense, and of course magic. Filling in parts he didn’t because he hadn’t wanted to make the lands rely on that very essence that wouldn’t be present forever. But necessarily deemed by the warrior princess in her girlish frock.
This was likely to become a new grove for that of the fae tree once more –suitable honestly, much more than a damned city of thieves and blood- but she probably didn’t entirely realize that she was the keeper of such things. These fae would and likely already did place Calia at some sort of leadership role. Akin to the magpie that had cried about it and it was somewhere in his bloated brain rot that he was huffing about it.
Promptly forgotten about when he was staring at the sickly tree and flipping through hundreds of unseen pages within that of his thoughts. Scouring mentally over ever lesson he had taken about horticulture –being a rather important topic for elves that valued Gaia as their mother earth. Picking and choosing thoughts so one could generate not simply a elixir that would help but a restorative draught that would aid the tree in being able to start healing. Sure the soil was mended but it didn’t mean it was the perfect fix.
Using his own recollection of his father nursing himself when he was sick and knowing that while soup really was just a placebo effect, it did make him feel better.
That was the goal now. Needing his arcane knowledge, the botanical mastery and the ability to weave both into something that was to help.
At some point when he was mentally somewhere between debating if harvesting moonlace ivy at dawn or dusk would be better and whether there would be sunstone that could be milled into powder relatively close by; his lids were blinking back into this world’s reality. Mostly cause said awareness was pulled back into function because there was a woman standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. Sighing heavily right from the depths of toes and his first thought was what had he done wrong this time?
Rotating polished rings up as chin was roosted lightly over knuckles, waiting as not to speak in a impulsive declaration because his thoughts were prone to failing to be filtered like an adult nine times out of ten. Finding that she was both apologizing and thanking him in the same breath. Leaving a moment for further silence till, “Why are yah apologizin’? Or even thankin’ me, neither are required.” Shoulder shrugged as he sunk a bit further into chair with ease, “Yah got more pink in yer face again, so whatever was ailin’ yah must’ve at least waned some, no? Or the cats leeched it outta yah in some grand miracle.”
“I don’t think they leeched much of anything besides heat, but that is a very good idea…” she murmured first, even tilting her head as the idea immediately rooted in her mind as something very intriguing to think about. They were made of stuffings, so why not soak out magic poisons and venoms to feed their very existence? It’d be a far better existence than draining the magic and life out of innocent things like that demon spider bitch who was out there now, free to dream up some new way to be a parasite.
She didn’t want to think about that right now, anyway.
Instead she approached his ridiculous chair made of root and earth, bending over him first and foremost to brush a soft kiss to his temple.
“I could tell you why I am apologizing and thanking, but I don’t want to find out what you’ll do if I say more mean things about myself. You’ll just have to accept them as they are.”
If there was to be any sort of argument to be had on that statement, Calia wasn’t wasting her time waiting for it. Shifting from where she hovered to full on invading his space to squeeze herself into the seat right beside him. Didn’t matter that it was a seat made for one, she squished herself into the space and threw her legs over his in a drapery of midnight skirts.
There might’ve been a few curious and horrified stares cast in there direction, most she ignored though one or two got a sharp glance from her. If anyone, faerie, demon, elf, rogue or otherwise wanted to open their damned mouths and cause a problem, they were going to find themselves turned into new scenery.
“…should I talk about it?” she tentatively questioned. They were learning to do this, communicate about things, didn’t mean she knew how to do it gracefully. How one was supposed to seamlessly segue into explaining one’s thoughts and actions without being entirely weird about it. Or if it even needed to be spoken about at all.
A navy brow arched when she expressed that the cats only had been keen on leeching out heat from her but that there was some sort of merit to his jesting. Not about to really dig into it because well, if she had an idea then he didn’t want to sway or potentially stop something from revealing itself because he might not understood the semantics of it. Rather keeping his focus present as the woman that was so typically adorned in leathers and steel had helped herself over to decorate his temple with a chaste press.
Acknowledged with a hum and a chuckle no sooner when she spoke up that she didn’t really want to get into the meat of what he just might have to say about her handpicked commentary that was hinting it would have been thick with depressive descriptions not fit for herself. “Mhmm, good to know yer keen on rememberin’ such thin’s, Lia.” And in turn he could acquiesce into an agreement that he would just accept the items as they were. Noted to be unnecessary but said no less.
Not everything had to be so verbally laboured.
No, she saved that for apparently making much like the cushion cats and helping herself to cramp, squeeze and shimmy into place that was just as much beside him as it was over his lap. Organizing herself till she was suitably arranged to be practically an extension of himself whilst earning probably some of the most judgmental stares that animal life faelings could have ever mustered. It was worth a smirk, certainly. And a bit of shifting on his part because she was ridiculous about wanting to be blended into him for what she wasn’t saying. It would have been hard not to tell at this point she was seeking comfort and they’d already established she was needy and clingy when the mood struck.
And the mood was struck. Seeking unspoken shelter till he was certain by some subtle movements that she wasn’t compacted into the arms of his self created chair. Assuring the gown of her attire was laid neatly to maintain her modesty all the way to ankles before laying a palm over knees to assure no bit of fabric was suddenly wily and making her seem like some blushing damsel.
Rotating the other arm up, over and propping arm over the rest of chair so she might at least be able to tuck away into his side if necessary or use it as a slot to peer from. Regardless the mighty highborn fae was sufficiently nestled in and he was shrugging from shoulders to hands. “That depends on yah. If yah feel yah need to, than yah be welcome to start. But if yer not ready and ain’t interested about it, I ain’t guna be puffin’ my cheeks out like some mad little brat. Yah got all the say in the world to whether yah wanna do somethin’ or not. This included. So make with that as yah will.”
A finger lifted, “But I will tell yah this before I go and forgettin’, I found that enchanted iron and I kept it.” That finger remained poised, “Not for any nefarious reasons but studyin’. It seems to be an ongoin’ issue and well, if I can artifice something that blocks or retaliates its abilities away from yah or any other fae, then I need to figure out itself. Just so yer aware and ain’t walkin’ in on me with it draped over my desk thinkin’ I’m up to shady dealin’s.”
“Hmn, good,” came her simple reply. If Archimedes wanted to test and experiment with the stuff, he was welcome to have at it. So long as it wasn’t loose in the world in someone else’s hands. She had long, long since let go of any fears that he’d try to do her harm, though she couldn’t remember exactly when anymore. Every fight they ever had might’ve been loud and flashy, but that’d been it. Theatrics to express frustrations and nothing more.
Now that she was suitably nestled, getting that physical contact that somehow always made her feel more tethered to the world, Calia sat quietly for a few long moments, holding out her hand so he could see the greyed lead lines of the iron still in her system. It hadn’t spread or gotten any worse, and she could only surmise it’d been because she’d only touch it for a brief minute. He’d know better and she wasn’t about to act the fool and pretend like it didn’t hurt like hell.
“I fit in well with a city full of degenerates and rogues, no one even looked twice at me. There was a band of idiots that boasted about being faerie hunters, though, who saw me as a familiar face. My sister’s face. And well… between that and getting to see these big oh so mighty hunters were only capturing poor little stupid fae things that couldn’t fight them?”
Calia took in a deep shuddering sigh, ending with an uncomfortable frown.
“I crave violence,” she grumbled, clearly not pleased to even admit it about herself. It sure wasn’t a good thing. “Necessary violence, and I don’t regret raging a tiny war against faerie killers. I do regret not taking a step back long enough to consider whether or not I was dragging you into my bullshit. I didn’t know I’d be walking into a demon’s nest or that she’d have some interest with you.”
With that explained and not needing to detail too much –especially when it was all very much in the thinking stage- attention properly dipped to where she offered her hand. Replying with gingerly cupping under knuckles so he might at least visually assess the whole problem that was laying in her veins and wondering if they were going to have to find a way to purge it. Or let it clear out of her system while hopefully helping her develop a bit of a low resistance to it.
It might not have been a terrible idea for Calia to speak to one of the other multitude of fae present as they might have better ideas than himself. And honestly, he couldn’t at the moment remember half of what the elder fae had said last time!
For now he simply adjusting grasp to knead that of thumb lightly into palm and idly massage while she began to speak about the whole creation of destruction. Where she spoke that she fit in with a city full of thieves and if he was supposed to go no, that’s not true, he certainly didn’t. By no means was he about to blow smoke up her ass because honestly, she did fit that aesthetic. It might have been different if she wasn’t commonly trudging around in very closely replicated assassin leathers and had more travelers attire of cloth and wool.
But it was the interesting little bit that she had found a band of losers that had been boasting about catching faeries whilst simultaneously revealing that Calia’s elder sister was alive.
Thumb moved to work along the base of fingers upon the palm as vision peeked up and out to the cluster of said faelings. Thinking but not speaking yet, probably because she was shuddering under her own reveal of being one who liked necessary violence – as she said. That she wasn’t apologetic for how it all came to be, but that she was upset with herself for not thinking a bit broader about what had happened, why, and such. “If I recall, yah were the one that expressed workin’ as a team. So that whole bit of draggin’ me into yer bullshit, is pretty moot, ain’t it?” Arc asked with his sights returned to her. “Seems kinda fuckin’ dumb that yah would think that when well, it would have maybe been a little better had yah reached out. Regardless if I’m a moody bitch.”
He wasn’t about to comment about the last piece because really, he was still plenty confused about that. As far as he knew, the only good thing worth something was his magic and honestly, that was typically a price to pay with having to deal with him in his flesh. So it didn’t make a lick of sense. “Well, it’s been handled. And yah made yerself a potentially new faelin’ grove. I would say the ratio of bad versus good, may be in favour of the latter.”
“I do ask for your help when I need it,” she pointed out with a frown. On multiple occasions she reached for him, including quite recently so she wasn’t about to let him slide away with that. “…but it’s different when they’re demanding I summon you. I’m not going to just hand you over to someone, I’d rather d-“
Calia cut off there, knowing her willingness to die was going to earn her more of those sour looks.
“…I’d rather suffer a little bit until you’re able to figure things out.” she course corrected. “You think better than I do, it’s not self deprecation, you’re just more clever. I have my own talents.”
If one could call chaos and devastation a talent, then Calia surely had talent in spades. Or… perhaps a few less devastating boons. She followed his line of sight to the what he was dubbing a new faerie grove. A withered old tree, some haphazard root huts and a whole varied array of shell shocked creatures who were still in the midst of trying to figure out their own next steps. They could’ve been stolen from all over the mountains and outer kingdoms, disconnected from their homes and courts.
“I saved the tree, you made the grove,” she pointed out. Turning full attention back to him and those signs of just how hard he’d worked to repair and refresh the very land itself. There were those deep feelings again, fondness most extreme that it was impossible for it not to be leaking through into her expression. Finding herself unable to help grinning a silly sort of smile.
“I did embellished it a little. I like building things with you. Making magic.”
Carefully and with control he tempered off the way he wanted to let out a disgruntled sigh because that was absolutely not what he meant and she knew it. But was it worth getting into unnecessary semantics because she was picking bits and pieces with deliberate care to express that if someone was demanding he be summoned by her, she wasn’t going to do it. And she did earn a squinting eye at the way she almost expressed she’d rather die but corrected it. Instead adjusting to suggest she would rather just be the pawn till he was able to figure things out.
“Y’know I wouldn’t be able to figure thin’s out if yah don’t summon me either. I know it was very much a sticky situation and it’s only cause the tether itself reacts apparently to alert me that thin’s are gettin’ fucky.” Smoothing a hand down that of her knee to keep her gown from getting all wrinkly, “I don’t always think better, I already said I tend to get a bit… feisty when its demonic related. It took quite a bit of internal struggle to will some sort of peace. Had she not been ebbing power of a elder demon, I probably would have thrown a haymaker as my form of ‘ello.” he offered her a crooked smirk however, “Yes, I’m well aware that yer talented in many other ways. That I wouldn’t dare discredit and I don’t think yah’d be appreciatin’ if I decided to list the ways off in case yah feelin’ like I would only pick the ones that make yer nose scrunch unhappily.”
Claws squeezed and crown leaned back to thump softly on the backing of chair. Straying vision out on the would be court arrangement of the fae flavouring while unsurprisingly he found Calia was prompt to point out more. Looking at her from the corner of stare whilst she seemed to be set on studying him for some reason. At least her thoughts weren’t leaking out any further so it did seem that the more chaotic her mind was, the higher potential of that happening.
Big emotions as she said at one point.
“Well I was an elf for at least hundred or so years, I did have some alliance to Gaia and know how the whole horticultural thin’s works.” He gave her legs a light bounce with his own before chuckling softly. A warmer sort of effort whilst she was grinning at him in a way that at least expressed she wasn’t too deep in her turbulent emotions and thoughts. Holding a hand up too at the same time, “I don’t see nothing with great big googlie eyes so I don’t know if yah embellished terribly that much. Yet. I ain’t convinced that yah won’t slap some massive peepers on that tree so it can look both incredibly moronic and somehow judgmental. But well,” Shoulders shrugged, “I think we can prove to have some half decent combined skills that can build at least somethin’ good, magic and all. It ain’t a bad feelin’. Welcomed even.”
Welcomed indeed. For Calia hadn’t failed to notice that he’d set up this silly lounging chair of his to keep watch over this newly reclaimed underground grove, when he could have tidied it up and joined her in the tower. Instead he’d decided to sit out there like a gargoyle, either to completely pummel anything that thought it might take advantage of a vacuum of power, or potentially to wrangle loose fae that were still too vulnerable to go back into the greater world.
While she didn’t want to think about how she could be the most powerful thing in the world and still get her ass handed back to her if she didn’t start using her brains, she did quite like this new realization that they could do so much more with the world than just setting it to flame. Calia might often crave violence, but she was figuring out that it wasn’t because she wanted to be destructive. She wanted to to build, create, grow and make things better. That she could heal what was broken just as easily as she could destroy what was broken.
And he too was very good at healing what was broken.
“I would never insult a great elder by plastering her with googlie eyes. I reserve that strictly for you,” she murmured. Reaching over him to the arm rest opposite to her to gently touch her finger tip to the wooden construct, weaving up a little carved statue of a triumphant flexing beetle. Complete with added eyeballs veering off in opposite directions.
By now it was growing quite obvious they were being encroached upon by curious faelings. Inch by inch, subtle step by step creatures were creeping closer to their strangely cozy little setup – and cozy it truly was. There had to be an aura of calm and safety about the two of them just sitting there in that stupid chair, and wile earlier having the whole hoard of them staring at her expecting action had been overwhelming… this was… amusing. Enough that the silly grin she wore had only grown wider.
At least least until one of the little things grew bold enough to crawl up the side of the chair and lept onto her arm. The snatched the wee brown cave mouse with such a quick instinct that it immediately launched into dramatic squealing.
NOOOOO! OOOH NOOO! AAAAAAAH! HEAVEN’S BEEEEEEE! DON’T EAT MEEEE! I AM PERISHING!!
“…for fuck’s sake, stop that!” she ordered back, opening up her hand and holding it outwards at a distance in hopes that made it’s tiny shrieking less loud.
The faeling mouse, though it did not have the usual signs of a fae creature like strange antlers or borrowed wings, it wore a little travelers outfit complete with leather belt and the tiniest of needle sword. It dusted itself off before standing there on her palm and giving a valiant bow.
On behalf of us forgotten things, we give our most enthusiastic gratitude to ye, Fearless Lady and Gentle Sir! For our suffering was endless, our need great, agony everlasting, pain co-
As much as she found it entertaining to be called fearless lady and Archimedes be referred to as a gentle sir, a ridiculous speech was not warranted. She covered the mouse with her over hand to silence him for a second, heaved a heavy sigh before releasing again.
“Let’s skip the long thank yous. This tree is free now and as long as someone stays here to look after it, there will be nice home here. If you’re feeling particularly generous, allow the thieves market to continue so long as they give due respect.”
The mouse nodded quickly to this assessment and in the wake of these words, it prompted a slight frown and tilt of Calia’s head before she had a thought.
“…what do you know about a Princess Araminta and the man she travels with?”
This seemed to pique the interest of a whole group of faelings, several other mice dressed like little adventurers had crawled up to sit on Arc’s knee. Another in a sweet tiny dress piped in with an excited voice, who didn’t mind at all speaking LOUD.
Araminta is thrice blessed by fae! she chirped. First by ancient blood that runs through thy own veins, by way of a court long gone. Second for the gift of music and gentle kindness that was bestowed upon the Enchanted Forest. Thrice by the Treant King for she brought a lost son back to his kindred. The Huntsman betrayed the Blood Queen by sparing the girl’s life and now travels at her side. Though she is in danger, she is fiercely protected.
“Oh…” That was… a complicated mix of feelings. Relief flooding in first and foremost, because her sister was alive. Fear coming in second, because what in all of hells was Araminta getting mixed up in to have pissed off an evil queen! Knowing the answer in a heartbeat that she was likely trying to find help and things wildly snowballed out of control. Guilt settling in deep and twisting, for Calia ought to be there helping her. Instead, what was she doing? Causing trouble up and down the mountains while tracking down her own missing heart.
“…and do you know anything about a Prince Haaron?” she dared to ask, almost fearing the answer. For if he wasn’t with Araminta, that did not bode well at all.
The mouse on her palm jumped down to her knee, giving the others a sort of concerned side-eyed look that didn’t bode well either!
Washed out to sea was the fate of the mountain prince, explained the small gentleman. Far away to other lands across the vast ocean. He traveled with pirates and angered a powerful Sea Witch, through her curse we cannot follow to know his fate.
“Well what the absolute fuck,” she hissed under the breath. Perhaps Calia ought to not feel as bad about the life she’d found herself, for apparently both her her living elder siblings were just as prone to pissing off queen’s and witches!
“Are yah suggestin’ then that I’m the one to be insulted then?” Arc asked her with a clear effort of his features shifting into an exaggerated thought that was in fact playful, not irritated. Growing a little more when she felt so inclined to alter the chair he had manifested with a great level of stupidity hat was both a damn beetle to imply him and googlie eyes. Absolutely looking more like Lord Button’s level of visual acceptance than him in any form.
And he huffed at her, “I hope one day someone finds one of yer dumb googlie eye creations and fixates on what it means with no real understandin’ that it was just a wild faelin’ princess that likes to torture the dumb demon with her.” he gave his honest hope in all that whilst it seemed that the other faerie creatures had started to become bold.
Bold enough that one took the lead and was shortly engulfed in hand whilst making the most outrageous thespian cry about not being eaten, leaving him to look at Calia like she was the one who just might. Sizing her up with sloe consideration but moved into a silence one might adopt for when they were trying to befriend a stray animal but didn’t want to get too close in case they spooked to fleeing. And never returning.
He just sort of was the cushion to the throne that Calia sat upon, all demon skinned and dirty from laborious work. Loudly rolling his eyes at the adventurer mouse moving to start some sort of long winded speech that was invoking a fanged grin that was absolutely laughing at the utter bullshit that was the name give. “Gentle sir? Ain’t no one with drop of brains ever guna believe that.” Violets vaguely widened at Calia as if to say, you heard that nonsense!
She was at least aptly called but it seemed that she had more curious wonderments that bloomed into her sister and the general sort of vine of mouth that might have expressed details about the girl.
Which well, it seemed that she had been blessed by fae as well. So the sisters were fae then, and the elder one had successfully earned praise from places and beings of a court. It was no small feat and even he gave an impressed low whistle to it.
What he was curious about was the huntsman. Interesting to hear that the son of the imperial bitch had betrayed that of parent –maybe not that surprising- but was busy traveling with Araminta. Seemed the sisters had both fae blood and seemingly a way of things that had unlikely alliances building. Granted the details of the feral royals of Caeldalmor continued with the brother washed out to see and apparently pissing off some sea witch in the same breath.
He didn’t resist it. Leveling a look at Calia, “Yer family has a way of gettin’ themselves into all sorts of fun, now don’t they. Not just a yah trait it would seem.”
Calia was glad Archimedes found entertainment in such, half a mind to ask him how he’d like to find out his family had spread out across the world getting themselves in all kinds of perilous trouble. Thankfully kept it to herself for she had no desire to wound him about a family he no longer had. Worst yet, there was this soft squishy little part of her that’d long since decided what was her was now his, and it did not just mean her magic, he could have her kin too.
It was clear by her expressions she was wrestling with whether or not this new knowledge was going to tip her into over thinking again. Already spinning her wheels on what she could do about the pair of them. Slay an evil queen and an evil witch? With ease. With glee. …except she’d just gotten a very valuable lesson on just what happens when you went storming into something without having a clue of what you were facing. An embarrassing, humbling experience. And truth be told, they were surviving just fine without her! They did not need a hero to come sweeping in to save them and Calia was certainly not anyone’s heroine.
“Don’t tell her about me,” she told the mice, looking out further at the collection of fae that were making themselves far too comfortable. “Unless she asks. She doesn’t need to be worrying about me. Others, though…”
With that baited statement she finally slid her legs from Arc’s lap to plant on the ground. The mice scattered back to gather at a distance with a group of others, as she leaned forward quite pointedly. They listened with held breath to hear what was to come next.
“If any fae, dark or otherwise, try shenanigans with my siblings you can bet that ripping out bones will be the least that I do. I will hunt them down with the same fury I hunt my heart. I’ll no longer be a Cursebreaker, I will become a Cursemaker.”
A hushed silence fell over the grove, though it did not last long. Despite the heavy threat made, none of these faelings appeared to feel anything beyond a starstruck awe. No fear, just awe! Calia eventually just sighed and made a shooing motion for them all to get lost and leave her alone. Only needing to squint hard at a couple for them to get the point. Once she was certain no one else was going to come trotting up tying to declare some manner of nonsense, she finally rose to her feet.
Turning again to set verdant green eyes upon the demon with a look that was softer than usual. Resting her hands on her hips while she tilted her head to consider him, amongst the swirl of other things.
“You need rest. Would you like to do so in the tower, or just climb into my pocket for awhile? I’ve had damn near enough of these underground tunnels.”
Whatever reason she decided to declare that the fae before her were not spread word to those of confirmed living siblings, of her own existence? Well he didn’t know why she did it. Even arching a brow as to express he didn’t fathom her reasoning and likely expected her to tell him about it when she was ready too. Because a good thought from him already arrive that if Calia was worried about her siblings, they were already worried about her. It was already too late for that reasoning and he suspected as an older sibling – which he did have history with, good luck trying to convince them not to worry. It was part of one’s genes.
But he didn’t say anything, just watched as she unsorted herself from the tangle that was legs over his lap. So she might declare amongst those she had saved that if any dark fae or something else tried to mess with those of her bloodline living, there would beyond hell to pay. And she would ensure such payments were doled out personally by that of herself.
It seemed to have left an impression but no one seemed to readily flee or cower. Rather there was a lingering stare of amazement that only encouraged him to smirk. Leaning into his crafted chair, chin into cheek and knowing that Calia was right fucked. She may not have wanted it but she was already crafting her own court.
These souls she saved, were going to lift her to be that of their guiding light. If they weren’t already.
A part of him was terribly amused by it. Knowing that she wouldn’t like it too much but then there was that quieter part that was already well aware of a lack of placement that a demon had at all. That everlasting knowledge that was his own missing place in the world that long labeled him properly as a villain, as a monster and a traitor.
Such things were kept private. Deep within even against the weaken heart trembles and a quick mental sigh that was tidying up such feelings to push back somewhere that they might just contently fester.
Finding that she rose properly and was looking at him with hands upon hips, that he met her look with wicked patience. Tempted and somewhat bemused of course, especially since it was clear she was probably still more worn out, what else would explain the way her gaze was gentler than he knew it usually to be.
“I don’t know. I seem to miss out on all the thin’s if I go any sort of intention of rest.” Arc leaned further upon his furled knuckles. “I get the feel that I ain’t guna get any of that for a good while, so I’ll be fine till we reach yer mountain yeti sorts. Then as promised, I’ll be sure not to exist for a bit in that case so yah can do yer minglin’ and swayin’ them to yer side.”
Still standing there with hands rested on her hips, she took his suggestion into consideration – if one could call the slow way she examined him then darted that examining gaze outwards at the rest of the grove a consideration. How she frowned and tapped her fingers at her side, until finally she’d come to something reasonable.
Calia beckoned with her fingers from her to get up from that ridiculous chair of his.
“Then we’ll both go rest. A long, long, long night of sleep for the both of us. No worries about me running off to burn cities,” she told him simply. “It’s been one of us down and one of us up for too long. And don’t think for a second I’m going to try and manage mountain politics without you there with me to make sure I don’t strangle someone I oughtn’t. So get up, take a bath, and come sleep with me.”
Calmly under that of the prying gaze, did he simply smile at her. A slow crawl of a bend that potentially anyone else, it might have been something considered handsome. Right now, well it was all Arc being a tamed pain in the ass that was merely waiting for whatever the hell it was that she was looking for. And to tell him about it.
What came was a motion for him to get up and it was only ridiculous because of someone else’s additions. Hardly his own.
But she clearly had a plan and it was, they both rest. Both take a breather without the other one needing to pick up the slack for just a few minutes so nothing had a chance to implode, exploded or whatever happened in-between those two things.
“I mean,” Fingers steepled, “The demonic part of me is in fact, highly interested to see if yah would in fact strangle anyone. And I am resistin’ the incredible urge to encourage it too, just so yah know.” Making it like he was doing them both a favour by stopping himself from leaning into that chaotic and problematic energy.
But of course she absolutely phrased her words in such a way that had he been one of a little more innocence, he might have blushed at it all. “Y’know, when someone says it like that,” Arc did oblige with getting up off his throne –making it disappear once more into oblivion- with brushing off the front of his shirt that was sufficiently sweaty and dirty, “There wouldn’t be any sleepin’.” Lifting his brows at her to meet her absolutely handpicked words.
Stepping close enough to tap her on the forehead, “Good thin’ I know yer just a devilish soul that likes to pick her phrases that sound perfectly dirty just for a giggle.” A few more taps and then a motion that made the tower door open, “After yah, fearless lady.”
“Uhmnhm,” came her rejoinder to his interest of watching her strangle someone. Calia doubted he’d even try to stop her if she did, for it was highly likely whomever was at the foul end of her hands probably had it coming. Unless she was about to get herself killed, he’d probably stand by clapping about it like a true menace would!
Her own fault for naming a demon as her advisor.
When he did finally stand, tapping a finger to point out the double entendre that for once hadn’t actually been done on purpose, she only fluttered a blink for a brief second before that exact devilishness he’d accused her of came out in a slow charming smile. If she’d been the ermine she’d have snapped her jaws at that finger with a bitebite.
No reason not to accept the credit for it when they could both use the moment to be their usual pesky selves.
“That just sounds like you wouldn’t be able to sufficiently tire me out, gentle sir,” she answered with a flash of a grin. Then with nothing more than a fleeting glance at the grove they’d created, deliberately flounced her way through the waiting door frame back into the safety of the tower.
With them both there, she could breath again.
His mouth opened, ready to point out that he had heard enough of her thoughts recently that he likely could guess that she would be steadfast to find out in her own way to whether or not he could tire her out. Yet, in a brilliant moment of reflection, he decided he wasn’t about to tell her what he heard.
Likely cause she would either deny it, or get potentially upset he didn’t say something sooner. Which at this moment, he really didn’t want to get into another battle of verbal back and forth.
Instead, he placed a hand to that of his chest. The other behind that of back and bowed, “Yer probably right. My game is a lot of talk and well, I ain’t about to suggest I can keep up with yah.” Accepting his suggested fate whilst she easily bounced her way back into the safety of the Etherion.
His own gaze flicking about and it was just enough that the sky dimmed to a painted twilight. Oranges melting with fuchsia and purple, letting the false twinkling stars wink into existence with a moon of waning perspective exist amongst them all.
Tucking hands into pants pockets as the whole wandering into the grand tower was effectively easy and immediate with, “Go and snuggle yer lumps of cushion, I’ll be sure to soak till there is nothin’ left but horns.” Arc offered with a easy enough glance to her. “Maybe incinerate any clothin’ to make sure all proof of diligent work has been properly disposed of and no other can suggest I’ve ever been helpful a day in my damn life.”
He got a good grin out of her for that one, as Calia was fairly certain the only reason he was allowing the suggestion of his diminished stamina was simply because he was too tired to get up to mischief. Otherwise she knew full well he’d be spinning many grand lines just for the fun of it.
“I’ll be in bed soon enough, best to feed myself first,” she mentioned, pausing by him only long enough to swipe a bit of dirt off his cheek with her thumb. Then she was off flouncing to the kitchen as if the tower had always been her own domain.
Of course, feeding herself wasn’t the real agenda at all. There was a certain amount of gratitude and fondness that needed to be expressed, and Calia never had been any good with words. Not that he’d ever accept them either, seeing as even a simple thank you was swiftly deflected in any direction but himself. The best she could do was create comfortable spaces and feed him, despite the fact he insisted as a demon he needed none of those things either.
Still, unless she wanted to go the ways of being a highland barbarian and tossing a freshly hunted buck at his feet, it was a far better idea for her to try something a little simpler. He’d been an elf long before he was a demon, and her experience in Edelguard had taught her very well that elves loved their treats.
With that in mind, it was an easy thing to take advantage of the humble little kitchen. Altering things with a soft touch of magic when necessary to make the place more functional without taking away that warmth and homey feel of it’s original design. Lord Buttons, looking very much the cross-eyed regal royal had taken up residence near the hearth to toast himself like a loaf of bread. She didn’t rush through the motions, in fact it became a calming sort of ritual to let her thoughts flitter around and try to arrange themselves into something she could actually understand.
Those rogues deserved to die. She would not feel guilt over what she’d done. …setting a couple fiery demon dogs to hunt through the city of thieves may not have been the best course of action, however. They’d have killed who needed to be killed within the city itself, but now she was left with the wonderment of how far faerie-hunters had their reach. Were they all over the mountains? Out in the Imperial Kingdoms or in Edelguard?
Sur’sha Rak’ne… Sursha. That demon woman left a bitter taste in Calia’s mouth. A humbling experience and shock back into reality where she was going to have to admit that it did not matter how powerful she was, or what her agendas might be, there would always be someone bigger, greater, smarter. Ones like Cragjaw who would not even waste the time of day on her. Sursha, who now had Archimedes in her sights because Calia couldn’t leave things alone.
She didn’t know what to do about that one. Make better decisions next time, she supposed.
Soon enough the kitchen smelled of spiced molten chocolate and freshly baked cookies. A simple treat that didn’t take long at all to put together. She poured an ornate cup full of the chocolate drink, set a couple cookies on it’s plate along side it. Then with a swish of her hand set it up to Arc in his bath.
Naturally, it had to go along with whimsy. Four googlie-eyed mice, inspired by the faeries and made of tea bags and yarn presented the treat to the demon with a little kazoo song. If she knew that Avia had been lurking nearby to watch over him in the bath, she might have chosen something other than mice. …then again, even enchanted cats needed entertainment, didn’t they!
The comment about feeding herself was hardly something the would have stopped to consider. He knew well enough now that she was in fact akin to a hungry grizzly that was trying to ready herself for hibernation. Food was energy and she expelled a lot already so to hear that, Arc merely hummed. Accepting that she was likely going to arrange herself a massive smorgasbord to fill those hollow legs, that it might have been in her best interest to start collection more food for herself in that of the hollow. So when she was hungry every hour, she had something to devour.
Himself, was more than a little grateful to get a few minutes to at least wash. Although the chamber was naturally adjusted even after her tastes of the room had gotten a bit of an inspection. He’d return it back after but for right now, something less grand and ostentatious was well on his own menu.
Humbling the state, removing walls and bringing the room closer to nature than he openly would ever admit. Elf, demon, whatever the fuck he was, there was still more appreciation for simple than ornate. Allowing the space to become so based in the outer elements that it might as well have been taking mild influence from the hot springs they had visited. For the space was nestled back from a tub to a pond of boiling heat. Ferns and monstera’s flushed the ground between soil and rock as the bellowing trees of piney influence dabbled thickly around the circumference.
It was simple and it was entirely not at the same time because well, who had a natural glade as their bathing chamber but a former arch elven mage.
Personally, he wasn’t entirely sure how long he had been in the space, wallowing in its ambient silence before the clatter of who the hell knows what came banging along!
For there was a tray of abandoned well, everything! Mostly because whatever sort of conjured googlie eye nonsense Calia made was currently running for its gods damn lives as Avia happily was springing and spronging her way after the creatures with feral glee. Managing to swat one of the… mice it looked like as it went flinging across the way with her powerful smack to be slam dunked into the pool surface. Leaving him to watch as this stupid thing with its massive wonky eyes were staring upwards as bubbles pooled out of its face whilst it sank to the bottom!
Another had successfully managed to stuff itself into one of the roots of the conjured trees to keep from being Avia’s toy but left the other remaining two to flee. Only their success was for one as the cushion slinky cat pounced upon one with paws capturing and sitting herself down to contently bap and squish the thing down. Helping herself to chew on its head as he sort of just sank a bit down into the waters to look at the entertainment that had been sent up and tried to gauge what sort of message this was trying to send.
For the sole survivor of this troupe realized that its hunter had been suitably occupied by that of the heroic other and helped itself to cautiously tail back to where everything had been dumped. Nothing broke, at least in the way of dishware, but the drink was spilled to the point that he could even smell the chocolate in it and one or two of the cookies had been cracked. Leaving the remaining sole to try and pick the things up with its plaintive sounds and well, “What was the entertainment for?” he dared to push into the tether, idly scooping out the drowned mouse from the pool to dump on the ledge. Pushing a finger on belly to push out any water that it had swallowed. “Because, I think Avia truly enjoyed it.”
Calia was ready to explain, why not be sang to by one of her little creations? Had his second statement not come quick after. She paused there down in the kitchen, furrowing her brow in confusion. Taking a glance over at Lord Buttons before dawning realization came flooding in, letting out a small curse before sweeping into quick action.
A fresh cup and a new plate in hand, Calia took one side step right into the washroom without an ounce of concern about his privacy or modesty – she fully expected him to be in the tub covered in bubbles, it’d be fine! – with an expression of worry that she’d somehow managed to botch the entire thing and unleashed hellish beasts either in the form of Avia becoming a snarly toothed thing, or those mice growing far too large.
Instead, she’d found herself a little stunned to find a washroom that was no longer just a mere washroom. Which was such a delightfully curious surprise that Calia stood there for a moment admiring the craft of it. Why had she not thought of this herself! She’d made her changes for the washroom just to be a pretty washroom, it never occurred to her that she could make a den of natural springs within the very tower itself.
Oh, that just created a whole new world of possibilities, the wheels in her head spun.
She did, however, come back to reality to give a small frown at the small bit of chaos her creations had started. Stooping first to scoop up Avia and shake the battered teabag mouse out of her grip. The cup and plate she set next to his very nice new little perch in pond-turned bath. Making the dishware and mess of the others vanish back to the ether… the cookies handed to the teabag mice. Could little make-shift creatures eat cookies? Seemed she was content with assuming they did.
“Well, it wasn’t supposed to be all of that,” she muttered. Finally recognizing that perhaps this was not the time or place that actually needed her to personally come sorting everything out! Attempting only for all of 30s seconds to set her eyes elsewhere, but well… she was Calia and not even a single ounce of bashful about these sorts of things. Only instead of blooming into some fox-wild smile, had instead leaned over to check on the thoroughly thrashed mouse Avia had been chewing on. Picking it up by it’s yarn tale, giving it a little shake until it puffed back out again and started wiggling, then sent it on it’s way to escape with the others.
“…a tower needs mice anyway, they’ll be alright.”
In came the door with the woman herself carrying an new arrangement of cup and plate, while apparently having not a singular care in the world that he could be standing there buck ass naked. Absolutely free balling it, rather than in the depths of a artificially magically but naturally made spring that was boiling at just the right temperature to make sure that he was sufficiently soothed and washed.
It was natural that he didn’t expect Calia to just help herself indoors. Just as natural for him to arch a brow at her, leaning elbows back against the warmed stone whilst maybe giving a bit of an influx to the room to turn the water’s opaque.
He was a whore, sure. But he didn’t give the view away for free! Making everything from the waist down just mineral based murk so she wasn’t daringly stealing looks at what was below, whilst it seemed Calia had come back to the current reality after assessing what he had turned the place into. Dropping her green eyes down as she frowned slightly with the whole ruckus that was well, a cat chasing a few mice.
Leaving him to nudge chin on top of curled fingers whilst watching her silently. She made the mess vanish whilst doling out cookie payment to her creations and eventually, she declared her intention wasn’t to provide some storybook comedy at all. Where she clearly settled a short look at him to where he met it with a hushed stare before she saved the mouse that had been Avia’s prize. Much to the huntress vocal displeasure of having what she hunted fairly removed at all!
Protesting, “And her spoils, ruined.” He lamented deeply for the cushion cat even if she was getting up and rearranging herself back to the door itself to loaf. Seemingly aware for more tiny critters but being attentive to the world around her just as much.
“And tell me then, mistress of tower knowledge,” Arc kept his gaze upon her. “What else does the tower require? As it seems there is guna be an influx of created creatures that eventually the space will no longer be simply a mage’s sanctuary, but ever manner of concocted googlie eye material that yah add to it.” The water sloshed as he adjusted to turn chest inwards to the stone. Bending arms over to cross and narrowed violets on her, “Yah always let yerself into other’s bathin’ rooms. Or is that simply reserved for special occasions? I promise, I washed behind that of my ears, yah be not so worried.”
“Her spoils live to be chased another day. Though, she ought to be wary of an uprising if she gets too toothy,” the warning was simple, soft and came with a quick smile towards the cushiony cat. She might have made them, but the cat-like creatures seemed to have their own little minds now. If her band of mice survived, maybe they would too! Then his tower might be full of life instead of just the echoes of those long gone.
Calia pulled up her skirt enough to expose a knee to make crouching there near the edge on her toes a little easier, plucking up the last of the mice and squeezing him between her hands until all that excess water drained out. A small puff of her breath gave it a renewed sense of living. Squeekin’ mad about it too! Giving her a good scolding before she dropped it down to the floor and let it scamper off as well.
“Birds? Foxes? Squirrels? A few deer? You’ll never want for company,” she mused, teasing, of course… although, then again, why not fill his pocket realm with creatures! He’d never be lonely then!
The more fun question came next and finally there was that wicked smile, completely unapologetic even though she knew she should’ve been. It’s not like she’d seen anything she hadn’t seen before.
“I was a little concerned that I set lose something bigger than I intended, pardon me for coming to the rescue, then,” she replied, reaching out to give a flick to his hair. “I like it better, this space. Keep it this way.”
A glance to the cat and the commentary that was suggested from Calia that Avia was just going to have to deal with both the mice and a potential uprising, Arc could only imagine. Not particularly bothered about the whole address because the reality was, this was his realm. If he felt something was too much, it could be erased away like it never existed.
And he just might very well when it seemed the faeling herself had come closer to pluck the last mouse up to literally breathe life back into it. Where he in turn was looking none too pleased about even the vague idea that she might actually fill this space with all sorts of animals. Teasing she was, he could tell, “I think then yah might as well just take the tower because who says I want that amount of company? I’m not that deep into nature and that sounds more like the sort of grove and environment better suited for yerself than me.”
Honestly, it sounded like way more responsibility than he wanted. And he liked the tower to have some privacy about it –even with the echoes. The idea of all sorts of googlie eyed beasts running amok actually sounded hellish!
Leaving him to slip back to where she was grinning like a right fae that she was. Pleased of course and adding on to about how she was apparently coming to rescue him from what she thought something larger had spawned. Earning a gesture. Not outright saying that the place they occupied was once more, his literally ocean of mana and there was very little that could actually physically harm much.
To where she declared that he was to keep the space as he made it. Earning a tilt of head, “Alright?” He wasn’t sure he needed her approval considering well, again this was his literal space. And well, “So when yah officially take over, at least leave me a small margin of my etherion that I can have a little bit of land. A least a crumb.”
Not that deep into nature sounds? He’d made the washroom into a private hot spring glade! All it was missing was a thick mist and a gentle breeze. His little alright added to her squinted eye confusion until he pointed out, truly in the most polite way he could, that she was taking over his tower.
Something about Calia had surely changed, for there was no stoic control in her expressions anymore. Confusion melted into awareness, assessment, and a quiet sort of wound before she took in a deep and shrugged her shoulders with a sideways smile.
With those words she knew she’d over-stepped. This was not their tower, it was his tower. She’d touched and meddled and altered and changed, and of course he let her do it, because he always let her do it. It didn’t matter the care she’d taken in trying to make sure it all would suit him, she’d still put her wretched little magic obsessed fingers all over a place that was never hers to begin with. He was not hers. She went too far and did too much as she always did.
Growth had to be somewhere, though, for she didn’t take off running or hiss something frustrated. Instead she merely reached out to tap the porcelain of the plate with a gesture.
“Eat the treats, you need the energy just as much as I do.” she murmured instead, already motioning to get up. “I’ll set everything back in the tower to as it should be.”
It was quite the experience to have said something at all and to observe how her features moved. They weren’t trapped behind a practiced façade but revealed. Showing the progression from one point to another till he was looking up at her with a sort of prolonged waiting that did turn into a bit of a sigh at her.
The tapping to the plate to tell him to eat as if he were some child that was having a staring contest with a pair of brussel sprouts or something. “Lia,” He started as she was moving to get up, “Yah know that isn’t what I said.” It would have been just as easy not to say anything about her statement of just turning everything back to where it was. He hadn’t said that, but he was pointing out that he was starting to feel as though she might be putting too much effort into things that honestly, weren’t really that necessary.
What she had done so far, fine. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t want things to entirely start becoming so ostentatious and fluffy and so plush that he might as well have had the inside of his magical well turned into some grand duke’s house, just a step under that of a royal.
He wasn’t that complex surprisingly and he did like the simpler things. “Leave things as yah have them but maybe instead of throwing all manner of whimsy because the sensation is fun and yah get that freedom to explore as yah ought too, maybe talk to me about it first.”
It was all he could ask, “I don’t need animal company. Just the cats and now the mice and well, yah.” He sank a little more back into the water so he could enjoy the heat with quiet appreciation, “I think quality is more important over quantity.”
Calia did pause, listening with intent and even that quiet contemplation went running across her features. The stillness, the debating, searching for where the miscommunication was and that flickering glance at the door as if she were pondering if it were better off for her to do what she usually did and go storming off to let those feelings out on something that wasn’t going to be hurt when she was finished.
The decision came with a twist of her mouth, slow dubious movements to instead pull up her skirt enough to sit on the edge of his created hot spring bath and rest her feet in there too.
They’d had worse conversations, her hurt feelings did not matter in this scenario.
“What you said was a very polite way of saying I am taking over all that is yours, and it’s true. I have put my hands into everything. None of it is mine to get carried away with, I can reign it in a pull it back.” Simple, concise, truth. That was all it needed to be, and he honestly didn’t have to explain his feelings about it.
Still, she found herself looking him over, gripping her hands on the edge of stone and frowning.
“But do you really think it’s all just been for whimsy and fun? That I’m just here willy-nilly altering things for my own entertainment? None of it is random nonsense, quality is exactly the goal? Carefully curated little details so this isn’t a place to haunt you, it can be a place of rest and work and healing.”
Finally she just gestured at the entire room of greenery around them, baffled to the nines!
“And how is all of this not whimsy! You’ve turned a washroom into a glen! I changed the color of the walls, but this is art. I suppose the difference is that you’ve done it for yourself, instead of me, yes? Because when I try to do things to take care of you, it’s too much. I can’t say thank you, I can’t feed you, I can’t make you a nice bed. You do so many things for me, Arc, and you never let me do them back.”
Well he was glad she didn’t go storming off honestly. But he wasn’t sure what she was thinking even as her expression was being still rather visible. It was clearly turning things over which was good, it meant she wasn’t so deep in her emotions that he may have said something worse than he originally intended. But it did mean he was a little out of his element because thus far, this was new and he was going to have to learn with her.
As she came over to help herself to dangle feet into the water –they were really too comfortable with another weren’t they?- he simply was waiting for her to speak up because it did seem like she wanted too. And what was said was at least them communicating. “Just talk to me, is what I ask. I ain’t sayin’ yah can’t get yer hands in it but there may be thin’s I ain’t too keen on. We are different people that like different thin’s. I’m pretty willin’ to try all sorts of said thin’s but maybe the whole addition of more animals is not my cup of tea.” He didn’t really know how to explain it more than that and hoped that it would have to be enough.
Granted a flick of focus to her hands tensing and then back to the greens peering at him, he wasn’t sure what was going to come out.
What did, left him momentarily hushed. Thoughtful, considering everything said before shoulders shrugged. “Suppose I do think that yah were just trottin’ about because yah haven’t had the same sort of freedom for magic as yah do currently. So to me, it did appear as more whimsy and what could yah change, or alter without any sort of repercussions.” It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he lied or tried to downplay what he thought. But he did sort of frown at her, “Love, whether this places haunts me or not, it is somethin’ I still have to deal with. Pleasant or not though I can appreciate yer intent now that it’s said out loud. I didn’t recognize it as that and I’m sorry I didn’t. It wasn’t my intention to hurt yah.”
Attention followed her gesture to the room. Rolling his eyes a little at the first half before wrinkling that of nose till it was all tensed up and well, he might as well have been caught redhanded stealing out of the cookie jar before dinner. Eventually looking at her, contemplating his words with due care. “This,” he replicated her gesturing to the greenery, “Is calmer than a stone bathing chamber. Here, it’s both silent and noisy. Not in the same way that yah can hear yer own thoughts bouncin’ off the stone tiled walls.” Arc glanced upwards for a brief second, “Yer not the only one who is recently mentally feudin’ with their own identity. This… is a sort of balm to the elven roots that still exist somewhere within this shell and well, turnin’ the room into what yah see is a sort of way to do as yah said. Relax.”
Water sloshed as a hand swam through it, still thinking. But this was more of a hesitation because it was debating what to say to the fact that she was calling him out about struggling with accepting gestures back. “I don’t really want yah to take care of me, Lia. Partially because I’m stubborn, partially cause its fear based and the last bit is because well, I don’t particularly feel very deservin’ of it.”
Fingers raked back hair then, glossing it down till it was slickened back and for once, he was letting that awkward vulnerability show unhindered. “Yer important to me. That kinda scares the hell outta me, well actually scares the full shit outta me. No kinda. And I ain’t sure what to do with it right now because admittin’ it feels dangerous but I can’t say nothin’ cause then yah’ll get hurt. I ain’t tryin’ to make excuses, I just … don’t wanna take yah for granted. I know none of that makes sense but that’s the gist of it. At least all I can really put into words.”
This was such a peculiar sort of moment and damn it all, it had taken time and fire to get to it. Calia had never been one to argue with people – if she was hurt, she left. Things ended. Cut off, done, gone. Maybe she’d had fights with her siblings, but those were the sorts of nonsensical things that never really mattered anyway.
Every fight with Archimedes had been different, starting from the very beginning oh so violent – her violence mostly. Not that he was blameless, but she recognize it in herself how she’d always been quick to snap and bite right off the bat. Unwilling to bend or to listen, even when it could have done her some good.
Sitting here and listening now was hard, but good. Uncomfortable too for such a variety of reasons, the part where she had no idea how to properly have being the most forefront!
She stayed in her spot, watching him with that near squinted verdant gaze and twist of her mouth. Truly listened, instead of jumping in and huffing at the little details that irked her. Focusing in instead of the parts that made her stomach twist up, and this demented desire to both punch him and pet him. What sort of damn feeling was that?
“I don’t much think I deserve it either, but you fucking glare at me and practically threaten the unfun sort of spankings if I dare say it out loud. You can’t take for granted what is willingly being given. Blood given, life given, my care given. I’m not going to fill your tower with goofy animals, just let me look after you. You are my treasured friend, my single confidant, important advisory, valiant advisor, decorated demon, debaucherous elf…”
At this point Calia was finding any words under the sun to described her feelings that weren’t soulmate.
Truthfully, he did expect her to get upset with something he was saying even if it was all he could say. It didn’t make a lot of sense but not everything did. And if he could find the right and absolutely perfect way of conveying it all, boy he would have. But in cases like this, he wasn’t that articulated.
Just he knew the idea of someone caring about him, or trying to really felt profoundly wrong. A good portion of his mind knew it came from his own history. Using that as a sort of crutch and reasoning not to let it happen again and the other side was simply afraid to do so. Because letting someone care meant risking that same sort of sharp pain that eventually came when they stopped. And they always did stop.
Things came with strings attached. Conditions applied and when he didn’t meet that necessary criteria to have such things, things got ugly. And he didn’t understand the what’s or why’s or how’s. Even if he knew this wasn’t remotely related to Calia, it wasn’t exactly easy to just skirt over. Smile and chuckle about it. Brush it away and accept that things were as they were.
So to hear her state she wasn’t going to fill the tower with every sort of creature known to man and ones that were brand new and never heard of, but that she simply wanted to look after him, he knew he was making a face. Not at her, not because of her at all. But because of himself and it showed.
He really just didn’t want to become comfortable with this level of care if it was just going to leave sooner than later. There was a reason he never tied down to one person after all and it had nothing to do with general care, it had everything to do with the unfathomable understanding that eventually, nothing could stay long enough to deal with the whole that was just entirely too much Archimedes Silverstone.
Typically he’d have gotten fed up with her ranting growing list of stupid names but honestly, when she was going ham on it, violets found her. Raw like an exposed nerve and stared. Waiting for her to either run out of names or simply finish and eventually, “Alright.” It was about as good as it was going to get because he didn’t really know what to say that was going to make everything make sense or not just piss her off! “I’ll try.”
Calia had gone through several more titles and might’ve even stretched to see just how long she could take it before she ran out of them, but his quiet alright did the trick of making her pause. The almost defeated I’ll try wasn’t exactly the sort of tone that filled her with confidence, rather made it seemed like she’d cornered him with her bullshit again – she might’ve actually had some shame if she’d realized she’d trapped the man naked in the bath where he couldn’t escape!
“And I’ll keep trying,” she murmured back with a deflating breath and all due sincerity. If she were worried about his tone, it didn’t hold a candle to the rings of violet that reflected so much of a familiar feeling that it made the deep dark caverns of her missing heart ache. Itching her fingers to reach out and touch, to hold, to somehow express through crushing squeezing that he would be okay. Calia would shape the whole world to make things okay for him.
She did not know how long she sat there staring back, wrapped up in that magnetized pull of aggressively sentimental feelings. Taking in a sheepish breath and forcing herself to look away and finally make the motions of shifting back to her feet.
“I’ll be in bed when you’re ready for it.”
Lowly he hummed to accept her reply that she was going to keep trying. The pessimistic voice within simply huffed and found humour that he already knew that said trying would eventually run out and well, things would default back to what was oh so familiar. Vividly aware of those harboured insecurities that were giving weight to his whole despondence. Granted, he didn’t want her to really be the one to deal with them either, so even if she was staring at him for an awfully long time, he didn’t try to make a joke.
To deflect or offer some sort of sideways comment that would disperse this whole unusual moment because doing so meant opening a door that was highly not ready to be opened. If ever.
He could come up with a mountain of excuses that could temporarily be the reason for why he was the way he was. Some might have weight, others would just be lipservice. Knowing that when it all came down to it, the answer had already been said out loud. He had fear and declared it to her even that he felt it was truly dangerous that he cared about her at all. Simply because that well known fact that he’d likely do something to fuck everything up eventually, she’d turn too. Fleeting moments were better because then there was never any attachment. And well, he sat upon a truth that showed any who had attachments to him formerly were either well buried twelve feet underground, or they had properly labelled him as a traitor to it all.
Eyes followed her when she finally looked away and was climbing up to gather herself. Expressing where she would be and received a well enough, “Sounds good.” As a reply. Not dismissive but not throwing a party either because that would seem extremely out of place too.
He’d only be above the surface until Calia properly left and well now it was his turn to humour the idea of just simply drowning –if he wouldn’t just end up back in the hells, it would have been a fine idea. But he simply defaulted to finalizing the whole washing self down with things that would cleanse and keep him from looking like a greasy little beetle!
Feelings, feelings, FEELINGS. How much Calia was starting to hate feelings! No, that was a lie, she’d always hated having feelings, for they were constantly a storm of extremes, from one end to the other. Though by the time she’d gotten to the bedroom a lot of that tumultuous storm had calmed itself down into a quiet thoughtfulness. Her hurt feelings hadn’t become lashing out or escaping elsewhere. His feelings had been spoken with simple honesty. Even if nothing was truly resolved, something about it felt comforting. That one day those things that ate away at them from the inside would no longer have a voice.
For now, trying was enough. There was hope in trying and Calia could use all the hope she could get.
First and foremost, while he said she didn’t need to change anything back to what it was, she did make a few adjustments to the room. Casting away a few of those unnecessary pillows that weren’t more than anything to be visually pleasing. Tempered down what might’ve been too lush and ostentatious to simplify it all… having an idea now that Archimedes likely had a cluttered mind and needed spaces not to flood his senses. That didn’t mean it should lack her usual attention to details, she simply needed to adjust where those details went.
Very little about the room itself was change, only that it was edited down. Smoothed out, made a little softer. When she was content with that, a simple turn on her heel adjusted her gown to something far more appropriate for sleeping in. Some little slip of a thing she could’ve done without, but then friends didn’t sleep naked with each other did they! Best to wear at least something.
The thoughts that followed were tantalizing and spicy, yet were not ones she should’ve been having at all, lest she want to bring about more trouble for them both. She finally just climbed into bed, forcing those thoughts to rest as well!
Scooting Avia out with the side of his foot so she wasn’t just continually lurking within the newly arranged chamber that had been seemingly approved of by both of them; he gave a quick look down the hallway. Idly registering that of the cushion cat’s soft mews as she seemed truly unbothered that she was moved from the warmth of the one space, set to worm herself between legs that weren’t making themselves useful for walking.
At least for a moment.
By no means did he like being in this sort of state of mind and usually the way he got out of it for a time was well, they all knew he toured beds like he was on vacation taking in all the sights. And it certainly was pressing against the back of his skull that he’d sooner just prefer to get lost in nothing more than skin and sheets, but somewhere he did know how utterly useless that was. Nor did he want to leave Calia with a sort of bewilderment, if not a sensation that he abandoned her because things had gotten a little too close to the tender root within him.
Nudging Avia once more so he might step over her, the choice was clear. Leading him up the path of the short winding stairs that properly took him to the chamber of rest. Granted, he didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t terribly difficult to feel and see the subtle changes that had been adopted. Minor –though the lack of drowning in a sea of pillows was in fact an upside- but he had meant it when he said she didn’t have to change anything.
Was it worthy comment to make? No. Nor was he about to peruse it right now or even ever. They said what they said and it went mostly decent. No blow ups, no screaming, no throwing things or magic. It was a win even if the conversation hadn’t been comfortable.
Giving the door a gentle press with the back of heel, clothing had already been shifted over to at least something moderate. Keeping at least that of soft pants and covering up that of chest with black sleeveless tunic, he did pause a moment to look at the state of bed. State of her and severely contemplated just saying he’ll make another room so she could rest in peace.
But his thoughts screaked about that. Already knowing that Calia preferred to be close and she had gone through a literal shitstorm with the city of thieves, the demoness and nearly being devoured. Him trying to have some strange moment of unusual chivalry wasn’t going to do much besides hurt her! Hence, the thought was annexed, leaving him to step over and scuttle up into bed. Making use of the covers to tuck her into a near cocoon so she might at least be sufficiently muffled in comfort.
And of course just because he thought something, didn’t mean he stayed true to it. “Yah didn’t have to change thin’s.”
Any relief she had that he did in fact come to bed instead of wandering off to find something else to do just to spite her, was carefully hidden – not that the expression would’ve been there for long. As he apparently had some need to tuck her in so tightly with the blankets that she was almost concerned he was trying to mummify her!
Once the bewilderment faded, she quickly wriggled free of that nonsense, to seek out that closeness he’d been expecting. Promptly throwing an arm over him and burying her face into his neck in a way that might’ve made a mortal man worried she was a vampire ready to take a bite! She simple breathed, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze of her fingers on the opposite side until all that lingering tension in her melted away.
His fussing causing a quiet scoff against his skin.
“Yah didn’t have to come to bed, either,” was her rejoinder.
If he wanted a little more bickering, she would be glad to do so, especially now from the comfort of bed where bickering didn’t feel like bickering at all. He smelled nicely of minerals and green, and the space was wonderfully warm not just in temperature but in gentle ambience of a low glowing fire. Returning to the tower for rest had been a far better idea than sleeping in the underground tunnels, or trying to find a room in the city of thieves that hadn’t been inadvertently burned down by Calia’s poor decision making.
All that work to make her a blanket cocoon, ruined. For she had freed herself swiftly only to bury herself into that of neck that he wondered if she was trying to potentially see if there was a way she could crawl inside! Or rather the better answer would have been her trying to replicate her ermine experience as a fully grown woman.
It would be mighty awkward to have her try to wrap around that of his neck as such, but he didn’t verbally make a fuss about it. Merely shifted posture so he was more on his back than on his side, so she didn’t accidentally suffocate herself from being smothered between skin and pillow. Arranging hands to modestly rest over the middle of back as he huffed a little when she was so quick to make her own pointed statement back. “I didn’t want yah to think I was avoidin’ yah. And we both know if I tried that, it would have hurt yah. I ain’t too keen on repeatin’ the same thin’s over and over again whilst tryin’ to highlight I ain’t as stupid as some might believe.”
Tucking his chin across the apex of crown, attention did rotate upwards to look at the ceiling. At least for a few seconds before just blending vision behind that of lids. Sighing a bit heavier than intended but it allowed for him to sink a little easier into the cushion of mattress.
Plenty of thoughts swirled by. One even came that he ought to point out how she tangled up with him so easily was probably not something she ought to do if she wanted to find someone in the mountain range to fumble around with. But recalling he wasn’t supposed to make comments like that again, Arc simply let it run freely in the confines of his skull till it tired itself out.
Taking to idly curling and unfurling the gentle dagger points across the back of shift she wore, “What are yah guna do about yer new grove? Yah know them faelin’s are guna be like the magpie, yah saved them. They are guna be lookin’ at yah like yer their new queen, do yah have a plan in mind? And yes, I am usin’ this precisely as a topic change because I don’t wanna talk about the other shit anymore.”
He surely wasn’t wrong that she’d likely have tossed and turned and angsted herself into a fit had he not soon come to bed. Not that she found any pleasure in him thinking he had to just to avoid her having a fit either. Still, she gave an appreciative hum and reminded herself for the thousandth time that if he didn’t like this means of closeness, then he wouldn’t have allowed it at all.
Certainly not eventually let out a long sigh and allow himself to ease into a more restful posture. Nor would he dole out those soft scritches at her back that were purely delightful even when in a human form. Better even because there was a lot more body contact to be had when there was the full shape of herself to nestle in close, compared to being a limp mink around his neck. Content to allow him the last words so they could both get that rest they were seeking.
It seemed his mind was still whirling, however, enough to be asking curious questions to veer his thoughts away from the things that were making him disgruntled. Wondering with a soft frown if the intent was to disgruntle her as a minor bit of payback for all the trouble she’d been.
“I am no more a queen to them than I am to those jackals back in Edelguard,” she pointed out. “The tree is well on it’s way to healing now. None of them need me there fussing after them.”
That was as simple as that. He needed lulling though, and Calia wasn’t about to start humming lullabies. Instead she shifted her hand from his shoulder to brush her thumb back and forth over his collarbone in something rhythmic and soothing. Even he needed a little comforting petting, whether he wanted to admit it or not.
“Lia,” He started even as his awareness to her shuffling hand turned to brushing thumb movements, “Yah can’t earnestly think that the grove is guna manage without some sort of management. And yah can try all yah like, but like the magpie that came after yah, these faelin’s are guna be lookin’ to yah as the highborn fae yerself.” He turned just enough that his chin came off the top of her crown and moved to nestle features close to the shell of ear. Turning gentle rubs to full near scratching, “Yah have that ripplin’ effect like a stone in a pond. Those ripples are goin’ vastly outwards and yer changin’ thin’s.”
Granted, he wasn’t sure why he was being so specific about this but here they were. Laying in bed, more him being said bed now than prior and she was trying in her own way to avoid the sort of effects she was already making.
As much as he was already vastly aware that this future she was building –while maybe either pretending she wasn’t or acting like it didn’t matter- he wasn’t remotely included or part of, it was still important to look at. Even if she didn’t want too.
“I know yah well enough now to know, that if yah wouldn’t let them stay in cages under cruel hands… yah won’t let them bumble and stagnant now either. Yer not that cruel and yah never have been.” This is where he frowned, “Yah may not like it, petal… but yah are makin’ yerself an authoritative figure with every action yah take. And honestly… maybe yah should consider that as a boon. Even yah don’t like to be alone and these sorts are just as much yer blood as yer siblin’s. They need a strong fearless one that will stand up for them and not lure them into a court that is malicious and fruitless.” His grip tensed tightly only one and relaxed to completely stop moving. “Yah keep sayin’ nonsense about me bein’ some bullshit advisor, well? I’m tellin’ yah what I am seein’.” Just he couldn’t make her listen or even understand it.
But he did think it was a good idea. Because well, she’d thrive a lot better in a fae court of her own creation and could have it exactly as she wanted. And that, was something she really ought to chase even quietly.
No doubt about it now, this was his quiet, gentle vengeance. Telling her all of the things she didn’t want to hear and were fucking outlandish on top of it, while she was too nestled in and comfortable to want to escape. Speaking into her ear about things that she had no business in even attempting. The sort of ambitions that were better held by people with far more bright and pleasant attitudes.
Calia buried her face further into his shoulder, almost determined to just ignore it altogether. Pretend she didn’t hear a word, fake snoring off to sleep! Only he’d never sat well with being called her advisor and here he was making the attempt to do the advising. The least she could do was entertain the conversation. It certainly went down a lot better when curled up like this in splendid comfort. If someone was going to tell her terrible things she didn’t want to hear, this was certainly a good way to do it.
With a sigh against his skin, she finally tilted her head back to give him that dubious green-eyed expression.
“What business do I have being an authority over anybody?” she genuinely asked. “I won’t just leave them floundering, that’s true. Won’t hurt to check up on them now and then. I’m just not- …I don’t think I can do what Ashera does. My problem solving skills involve a little too much of the stabby kill. How is that supposed to be any less malicious.”
She was practically radiating a near fuck you energy for how he was poking at this whole inevitability that she really did want to pretend didn’t exist at all. Even if it already was in full swing and she had been the first stone cast into the calm waters. As he said, rippling outwards with each ring reverberating through everything. Big or small.
Honestly, he wouldn’t have been terribly surprised if she either blatantly ignored him, or told him to shut up right then and there. Feeling the heat of her breath reflecting over skin till she finally seemed willing to withdraw from her comfy little alcove. Presenting the look that he was probably more accustomed too than he originally ever thought, meeting it with a even keel violet. Pupils enlarged into oblong ovals and ready to seemingly engulf everything in.
She spoke and asked a question that had any other asked, mostly anyone else would have huffed at. It was a little late for that, now wasn’t it?
What he did was listen. Then digest and finally reaching palm up to cup at cheek, brushing thumb carefully over. “Who says yah gotta do it any specific way? Ashera is one person just like yah be. Each unique in their own ways and there ain’t one right or wrong way to do anythin’. But yah already are well up the creek with the whole idea of shirkin’ said authority. Yah already have it, Lia.” Thumb swiped once more till it properly stilled. “I know yah lack the faith in yerself to think that yah have any sort of leadership skills, but yah’d be wrong about that. I can prattle about it till I’m blue in the face but that don’t the fact they are there. Yah just don’t wanna see it right now and that’s fine. But yer already makin’ choices and enacting actions that label yah as that very figure.”
Arc hummed softly, “Yah just are worried right now because this isn’t one of yer act first, ask questions sort of behaviours. This is the aftermath of one of those instances and now yah gotta see the consequences of it. Which is, these faelin’s are guna be lookin’ to yah –and they likely are already.” The demon offered a crooked smirk, “Yer a hell of a lot more capable than yah wanna let yerself believe. If yah were a fool, no one would follow after yah. They’d let yah wander off into the newest pitfall with glee and that hasn’t happen. Any more than yah can turn away from another’s unjust sufferin’. Yah just gotta have more faith that yer stronger and smarter than yah currently think.”
Brows cinched softly looking at her quietly, “It’s fine to be afraid Lia, but yah can’t hide behind yer own doubts. I know yer stronger than that. Yah’ve already proven that yah can do whatever yah set yer mind too and do whatever yah want too. I know yer not one to let thin’s pass by.”
There had to be some vicious irony in this turnabout, that now she was the one giving that pained and vulnerable expression, until she was forced to close her eyes because it almost sort of hurt being seen, and at least with her own eyes closed she could pretend she was invisible. Here come the consequences of her own actions off to bite in her in the ass again! A kingdom lay in ruin because of her, and it may not have been her hand that did it, it had still been her heart at fault. She’d wanted to right one wrong, not right all the wrongs of everything she ever came across!
Yet she couldn’t leave anything well enough alone, could she. Calia could’ve left it be. Not stuck her nose into anything where it didn’t belong.
Though if she’d minded her own business, she’d not have Archimedes with her now. Where would she be now if she hadn’t accepted those consequences?
Nowhere good.
She let out a small sigh, returning the favor of tender touch to brush her own thumb along his. Not looking at all pleased about where the conversation was going, but otherwise seeming to accept it, at least for now.
“…well they’re all going to be fucking disappointed if they’re expecting any sort of high fae bullshit pageantry. In fact, they can all give chase like the rest of them if they’re so foolish as to want me. I’ll be a queen the day someone finally pins me down and not a second sooner.”
“Yah’ll do fine,” Arc reaffirmed when she expressed that they were going to all be so disappointed when they realized she was no high fae that liked that pageantry bullshit. Knowing damn well he could have pointed out that just like her, there were all sorts of different fae. And there very well could be plenty that equally didn’t want that superficial court either. But that seemed like something she would come to understand on her own without him bonking her on the head with it. She’d do fine, he meant it.
Believed it in more ways than one and swallowed back the comment that she was already fucked with the queen aspect. Not about to get headbutted because he opened his mouth one too many times. Because she had already been that person that pinned herself down, she’d just have to come to the realization on her own.
Lightly giving that of palm a soft press before retracting, he gave her a motion that indicated she was more than welcomed to crawl back into the bed rather than dangling off of him. As he wasn’t going to prod and press any more.
“I suppose you will be there making sure of that,” she mused. Usually a statement like that would’ve came with a cheeky sort of grin, as if it were meant as a funny little thing. There was something heavy in it this time, a hint of her worry that he wouldn’t, a sliver of hope that he would. Eventually there would come the moment she reclaimed her heart and no longer had need for his magic to keep her grounded. Then he’d finally be free of the mess she was very quickly creating for herself.
For now, Calia was just grateful he was there. Bending to press gentle kiss to his cheek before doing as told. Turning away to nest into bed proper without clinging all over him.
Though if he thought she’d had enough of his presence, he’d find she’d only meant to now be the one squished! Taking his arm to pull over her as she settled on her side so he could be a heavy demon weight. She would not be content to rest without him – not this time.
And on the morrow they’d get the hell out of the mountain underground just as fast as she could manage. Maybe when they could feel the sun again, the world would fall back into proper perspective.
He might have been inclined to ask what the look was about, but it felt like a very dangerous sort of ask. Probably something that easily could evolve into a whole bigger deal than either one of them wanted to manage at this current moment. Especially when she seemed content to sprinkle on a peck to that of cheek and finally tumbled off to make herself comfortable.
Or at least what seemed like it because even before he could even contemplate how he was going to lay himself, she made herself suitably clear what this was going to be.
Bringing his arm over to be that of the weight as she was requesting within words to be the spoon in this arrangement. With him adding to it and well, surely she had to know that these types of behaviours were absolutely not the sort of thing that mere friends did!
It was a good thing he was aware of things and understood that Calia simply just wanted to be close and wasn’t looking for anything else. And that he was smart enough to be able to read the misconstrued signs, because good hell if he didn’t. What sort of mess this would be and well, he was already deeply uncomfortable with her even implying trying to take care of him! What a fucking mess it would be to have anything more.
Regardless, for now he obliged. Eventually she’d cozy up to someone better suited for a day or perhaps longer and she’d have no need for that presence of his own in such ways. All the actions would have been confusing and incredibly misleading, that was for damn sure.
Letting out the air in chest as other hand slipped to give crown of his a little more cushion, he allowed his thoughts to freely nip and wander at their leisure. Till rest managed to pull and suck him down for the time being.