Morning arrived like a dull blade instead of a clean cut. Arc became aware of consciousness in fragments — warmth first, then the dull throb behind his eyes, then the slow, creeping realization that he was not where he had started the night. Something soft beneath him, something even warmer beside him. The air carried that quiet stillness that only existed after chaos had burned itself out, when the world hadn’t fully decided to wake yet.
He did not move immediately, passing a slow inhale to be paired with an even slower exhale. Taking inventory the way a gambler checked his pockets after a long night at the tables. Head intact. Limbs accounted for. Pride… debatable. Memories came in flashes rather than a neat line — laughter, spinning lantern light, a hand tugging his collar, another threading through his hair, the distinct and deeply satisfying knowledge that at some point he had absolutely stopped pretending this was a bad idea.
Arc cracked one eye open, then the other. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar with the quiet, undeniable presence of warmth on either side of him confirmed what his memory was still too polite to fully assemble. For a long second, he simply lay there, staring upward, expression blank in that rare way it only ever was when even he wasn’t sure what thought to land on first.
Then, slowly, inevitably, a grin began to curl at the corner of his mouth. For now, he allowed himself the rare luxury of stillness, basking in the aftermath like a cat in a sunbeam — smug, exhausted, and entirely unwilling to regret a single moment of it.
Pushing through the tether at least, If yer alive, the doorway to the tower will open to whatever door yah open next. I’m guna bath and maybe check if I’ve been robbed.
Calia awoke exactly where she’d claim to be, high up in an orange leafed oak, nestled perfect in the crook of a branch near the trunk. How she stayed up there without flopping to her doom in the night, that was probably faerie logic. Out beyond the sun shined bright, casting a lovely spread of rays through the morning mist. The air cool and crisp with the scents of autumn. With a silent appreciation she listened to the first chirps of birds as they began their day, the rustle of branches where squirrels were making their runs. Rustling down in the brush where an opossum was hunting for a morning bed.
Then there was Arc speaking through the tether like a well pleased cat. He ought to be, he escaped wearing a tartan kilt after all and still got all of the attention he’d been seeking! Meanwhile Calia was nursing what was either a concussion or one hell of a good hangover. Maybe both!
I am a long way from a door. Why don’t you come and fetch me when you’re ready, or did you still need someone to pour all of those bubbles and oils for you? Could have you smelling like dark wood fir and sweet mountain heather.
Her tone was pleasant and amused, if just a little bit still sleepy. Any ill feelings she might’ve had, she put them to bed last night where they belonged. Mostly just glad she got to be out of the way and not have to see or hear a thing!
Throwing an arm over that of eyes as he certainly wasn’t making a hasty effort to crawl out of the bed that was certainly far fuller than it typically would have been. Pleased, certainly. In more ways than one but he was a gentleman.
Well, in theory. Not about to say anything because honestly he knew Calia did not get a rat’s tiny ass about his conquests, and it would be a little more than strange to announce it. So with a peek under arm as her voice came back through the tether expressing she was a long way from any sort of door –filling in the means that she absolutely slept in a tree. Honestly at this point she should just become a racooon-, he had to temper the laugh from actually coming out of himself.
I always need someone to pour all the bubbles and oils for me. Why, yah wanna join me now in the bath, love?
Asking with a lilting tip to the disembodied voice, he did start moving at least to get out of the bed. He wasn’t one that really stuck around after the fun anyways for idle chatter and a fond farewell!
What tree did yah climb up into this time, opossum princess? I’d worry that yer state of arrangement might be questionable to the locals, but I’m not convinced that yah don’t have seven other eight foot mountain squirrels in kilts along with yah.
It took a careful bit of finangling to help himself out of the bed without waking either party still present. Allowing himself a moment –between locating pants- to appreciate the view before fully just blinking out of existence. Making it a hell of a lot easier to just carefully materialize down in the tavern –good he hadn’t ended up halfway around the mountain- to give a waggle of fingers to curious eyes shortly rounding the corner to find a patron sneaking out at all. Doubtful this was the most scandalous thing they’d seen or would ever see.
I don’t know about yah, my little treeclimber, but I want food. If I don’t have to hunt yah down, I’ll make the tower make somethin’ yah want. Gaze shifted slightly Where the hell did that come from! Realizing that the look he had gotten was probably because he was sporting certainly more than his fair share of love marks… and scratches.
I might have joined you if you weren’t rolling right out of someone else’s bed right now. she quipped back. Truthfully too, for while she was glad he had a wonderful evening, she didn’t want to hear, see, or even smell the details.
Calia did at least make the motions of tilting off her branch to slowly climb her way down the old oak, cracking a smile when he called it out accurately where she’d spent her night – an easy guess, she’d said as much! – only to scowl at the mention of eight foot mountain squirrels. For a man who didn’t much care for her type, he sure did love dreaming up all the different sorts of men she should be sleeping with. One of these days she was just going to do it. Run the gambit of every one of his silly scenarios and see if that finally satisfied his imagination.
Down on the ground, she tugged gentle on the tether, debating whether or not she should just blink herself right to him. He was close enough and she knew the areas now… it just didn’t feel worth the risk of having someone see her using magic. Not out here where the mountain clans still viewed it as something dark and twisted, only there to cause trouble.
He said the next door so… Calia made herself a door. Grazing hand against the wide trunk of the oak tree until it carved out a thin but appropriately sized doorway just for her. She rapt it gently with her knuckles to give that subtle signal for opening.
I’ll make the breakfast you saucy bug, if you’ll stop calling me every ridiculous endearment under the sun.
With a heavy sigh, she twist the knob to let herself inside.
Unseen to her did he develop quite the fangy little grin at her quip. Of course there was no truth to it because well, plenty of examples. But he couldn’t say it wasn’t fun to tease and see what sort of answer he might get. She did always provide at least some sort of reply so he was never bored or left without one. Usually, there were times. But those usually coincided with some rather rough moments that warranted a lack of idiocy on both of their parts. Spoil sport.
Of course the morning to most was probably the greatest bane of existence. All bright light and warm and animals making their autumn noises, perfectly unreasonable for those who were nursing heads potentially three times larger than their own bodies due to the insurmountable drinks they had consumed. A boon to being demon, he mentally praised. Sure he had enough to sloush his elven roots numerous times but he hadn’t been kidding when he expressed at one point how difficult it was to get him smashed now. Unless the drinks were pure alcohol, it just wasn’t happening.
Helped him avoid a demon size hangover too.
There, he felt the change with magic to indicate he wasn’t going to have to scout her out per say, the tower within his being chiming at the entry and giving him the directions to alter his direction out of the tavern and into the nearest coat closet. Or what have you. Helping himself to follow suit into a place that would allow the means of properly cleaning up, changing into attire suitable once more and not to be wandering aimlessly around the Hog Wolly for now.
He waited only moments after she entered, for himself. “Yah like it when I call yah every ridiculous endearment under the sun.” Arc countered as he smoothed out that of hair as best he could. “If yah didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to speak at all. Yah’d have found a way to silence me. And with yer very lackluster complainin’ it sounds as though yah want me to keep goin’.” Eyes settled upon her soon enough, smirking easily allowing at his more natural form of demonic appearance to regain itself here. Violets beaming, “Y’know it’s how I show some of my affection to yah, beautiful. Plus yah already said yah don’t believe half the thin’s I say, even if they were true. At least to compliments and the likes so I’ll do as I please and adorn yah with whatever sort of sweet endearment I want.”
Calia paused there, resting her hands on her hips and giving him a good once over look from head to toe. He’d certainly faired well over the evening – all tussled up, bright-eyed and bushytailed. For tiny split second that little spark of being pissed off tried to catch light. Tried to root itself in the back of her head before she figuratively blew it out through her nose with a huff.
“I liked it just fine when it was one or two just for me, but seeing as you call every pretty girl a petal, love, sunshine, sweetheart, and every other manner of nonsense, it doesn’t mean much other than you being in a good mood.” she pointed out, thankfully without any hints of ire or annoyance. Just a soft sigh and a melting of her shoulders giving hint that she was amused, just not full of the same sunshine.
“…and from the looks of it you had at least two gnawin’ on yah, maybe even three if one didn’t unhinge her jaw like a snake. Go have a bath, bug. Then I can finally have a bath and not spend my day smelling like Bonnie’s Ass.”
And before she did fine a way to silence him, or perhaps just plug up her ears and glamour his whole everything so she didn’t have to deal with all this!
Nearly was he tempted to make a pose or something the way she was giving him the look over. As if he was about to roll over and let her fully check out every part of him in case she needed to be sure he didn’t come home with an infection or something! Offering her a tilt of head, letting the bend of lips gradually form into a toothy grin waiting till she was ready to tell him to piss off or just to roll her eyes.
Neither came, but a point out that he apparently called her everyone under the sun alongside everyone else. And she wanted one or two just for her. Which, “Yer the only one I call bunny.” Arc pointed out suddenly very serious about that. Before slinking juuust a bit closer so he could brush the back of fingers across her arm, giving his best boyish look that was somewhat innocent and earnest but still paired with very bit of Arc-ness there ever was. “That one is simply reserved for yah because I know yah hate it and well, I love it. It fits yah more than yah want to ever admit.” But then he seemed to be thinking a little harder.
That turned into a grin, pointing at her then. “Acushla then.” Elven dialect slipping out before he promptly looked down at himself with her addressing of being gnawed on. Not about to explain what Acushla meant by any means, she’d have to figure that one out.
Daringly reaching out to curl some of her wild hair behind an ear with a gentle pinching. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell. And neither do I,” Brows wiggled, “Invitation still open if yah wanna join me for a bath, I’ll be sure to leave yah smellin’ not like that miserable sow’s arse but somethin’ entirely else.” Adding some more bounces to the brows before he sidesteps less she actually start swatting at him.
“Fiiine, I’ll go dunk myself before I become any more insatiable.”
There was no surprise at all that her immediate reaction to bunny was a wrinkle of her nose, narrowing of her eyes and quiet growl under her breath. “Because for all the hells why! Because I am a tasty morsel for every hungry soul in the forest? Sure! And you what else bunnies are known for? Fucking! That whole phrase of fucking like rabbits didn’t come from nowhere!”
Calia didn’t even have a chance to add flailing and wild gesturing to that verbal outrage for he’d stepped in close to tuck her hair out of the way. Damn him right back to hell, she really did like him best when he was in these sorts of moods. Where he was light and smiling, a little sweet and even a little dastardly. Calia just hated that he’d had to seek that comfort else where, between the legs of some dame or three with fluttering lashes and a demure bedside manner. His pleased afterglow belonged entirely to someone else.
“Acushla,” she repeated. “And now you’re cursing me with having to go actually take the time to study ancient elvish too? Don’t think for a second I won’t jump in that bath with you out of pure spite.”
She wasn’t going to start laughing, because she whole heartedly refused to give him the satisfaction. Especially not when she was strongly considering making good on that threat, as it would server him right to have to scrub her back of mud, muck, and the blood and sweat of a fight.
“I hope you like squirrel balls for breakfast too.”
Wickedly having her get so furious about being called bunny, was absolutely a highlight. Only because she was thinking about it in the absolutely wrong way. Granted her reasons were true in some right but that wasn’t why he selected it perfectly for her. As much as she wanted to call herself the dragon, the monster or whatever else have you, he didn’t agree with it.
He’d seen those things and she didn’t come close to them. But she was a fiery tempered little fae and maybe if he weren’t in a good mood, he might have been inclined to have a spitting hissy fit with her.
Alas that wasn’t about to happen, merely waiting for her to stop her fussing as he continued to merely grin at her. Peeking tongue out to bite at the corner of lip while she took being called Acushla as some sort of curse to be forced to read. “Oh no, I’m bein’ threatened,” Arc chuckled as he took a step back and turned around to walk properly forward to the tower. Flipping a hand no sooner when she suggested that they were going to eat squirrel balls.
“I’ve eaten worse,” he drawled lazily, lips quirking. “Though I’m guna start askin’ real pointed questions if those turn out to be actual squirrel nuts… or gods forbid, mountain men-bear ones. Still,” he added softer, crooked grin returning, “I trust yah, Lia.”
He didn’t step through right away one he was at the door. Instead, he leaned into the frame all exaggerated theatrics — one hand over his heart like he was moments away from composing a tragic ballad about lost love. The effect was ruined by the spark in his eyes, all mischief and heat. “Oh and before yah start really overthinkin’ it,” Murmuring, voice dipping just enough to tease, “I call yah bunny ’cause yah remind me of one.” His gaze flicked over her slowly, shameless and warm. “All soft edges and sharp instincts. Quick when yah think no one’s watchin’. Pretendin’ to be shy sometimes, but yah’ve got teeth if someone pushes wrong.” His smirk deepened leaning in just a fraction closer, close enough that the joke blurred into something quieter.
“And yeah, did y’know,” he added, tone turning fond despite himself, “Bunnies pick their people. Once they do, they don’t wander far.” Then, just as quickly, the moment snapped back into mischief. Fangs flashed in a wicked grin. “Course, the fact that yah get all wrinkly when I say it? That’s just a bonus. Would be a crime not to enjoy that.”
He blew her an exaggerated kiss, already slipping inside before she could retaliate, clearly making his way swiftly into the bathing chamber so he might sink into the broiling water and lounge like the fattest cat that had gotten the canary.
“Bunnies do not pick their people,” was Calia’s pretty weak rejoinder to his fleeing backside. Did they? Fuck that, it didn’t matter! If he wanted to insist she was a bunny, she’d be one of those long demented looking hares. The ones that kick each other in the face for sport and have those thousand mile stares like they’ve been to war and back and saw demons.
That was a lot more appropriate.
Regardless, she was still going to feed him breakfast. He showed his cared through being an absolute menace, Calia showed hers through little acts of service. As much as she was tempted to serve him up some tiny little suspicious looking balls and see what happened, they both needed to eat something proper if she were going to tackle being a Princess first thing in the morning.
The means of making breakfast went quickly, intentionally so, as Calia wanted him just enough time to soak off the evidence of last night’s romp before she decided she was going to turn about her own means of menacing. Eggs cooked up nicely in a little frittata of fresh herbs and garden tomatoes. A little sweet jam and some toasted bread with butter. One couldn’t forget a good strong brew for even if he wasn’t sporting a hangover, Calia sure as hell was!
When it was all done, she put it together on a little floatable tray and blinked herself right into the middle of his hot steamy spring bath.
The smile on her face was dangerous, yet it was her choice of clothing that was the true spectacle. That threatened maid’s ensemble in a dark navy blue, complete with the off the shoulder puffs lined with lace. The stupid fluffy tutu skirt of many layers that’d make it impossible to actually do any real cleaning in. A little white apron.
“And you get to enjoy for ten… nine… eight…” as she counter down, she bent to set the tray of breakfast floating in the water. Straightening just long enough to give a slow turn so he’d get the full view of all angles. “…three…. two… one…”
Down she went into the bath herself, stupid little outfit melting away into the water as she reached up to loosen her hair and make sure to drape it strategically over her shoulders. A cheshire grin so wide that there was no doubt what she’d be expecting in return. He’d claimed the night prior that she won the wager – she didn’t – but in fair spirits she’d given him his request. Now she’d have hers!
She could think what she wanted and if she picked up a book to learn about it, she’d find out. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. She’d figure it out on her own terms which allowed him no more than a fleeting wicked grin before he had properly made that natural bathing chamber his once more.
To soak tender muscles and love marks that wouldn’t take terribly long to disappear, but long enough to be a fair reminder of his successful shenanigans. Absolutely a one-time thing, for the work that went into keeping two very pretty women busy had been a task and a half. Worth it but not for more than that. It was a private tale to keep plenty to himself.
After he’d properly scrubbed to feel like there was skin and glistening horns once more rather than muck, sweat and the clinging perfume of heady sex, there was a means of relaxing. Milking the calm for all it was worth and by the nine hells, the whole materializing into the bathing chamber again was certainly met with a look.
A double look because what the hell was she wearing!
Tapered ears lifted high upon his skull, eyes widened and by no means did he resist either the ability to be properly gobsmacked, appreciative and taking in those seconds one by one till the very last breath and she was suddenly in the tub as well! Slowly realizing there had been a floaty little tray of food settled down in which he stare at a long moment. Like where the hell did that come from.
As she came back to the surface –and his head was absolutely screaming in a cackling laughter that this was absolutely not the sort of things close friends did- Arc leaned back against the stones for where he had originally been existing. A wickedness in gaze that was one hundred percent entirely debauched, “Well… now I’ll have to recreate that somehow from memory, to canvas.” Arc purred –quite literally, letting the sound ruminate. “Pleased with yourself, acushla?”
Of course he deepened that smirk, “So, yah jump into all yer friend’s tubs while their buck ass naked? Or is this a reserved case for me, which is dangerous. Yah know my history of being utterly scandalous.”
There was that new nick name and Calia wasn’t entirely sure if she liked the way he said it. Like some wicked little secret all for himself. She could easily enough crack open a book to figure it out herself, or deem to ask someone… but even she could admit there was fun in not knowing. If only because he was going to want her to fuss about it and Calia could pretend she didn’t care to know at all.
“I never had friends before, you remember. What do I know of the rules for what is and isn’t appropriate with a friend?” she answered easily, both with sincerity and with the added cheek. Who made the rules, anyway? Calia was long since tired of living under the shadow of constantly agonizing over what she should and shouldn’t do. Granted, she needed to work out the boundaries of being more thoughtful and intentional–
–but this was a special case. He was entirely too pleased with himself and she needing to find her own joy in something. That made him the temporary target of mischief until she needed to be serious again.
“Besides, I am impatient to get all this dirt off me. Eat your breakfast,” she told him, shooting a wicked grin as she shifted to turn around. Fully intended to actually make use of the bath now that she was in it! What was he going to do, stare and make comments? Oh dear, how terrible. She reached for the soap and fully intended to wash as she pleased, with or without him.
“I’ve decided on your tartan colors, just so you know. You’ll have the highlanders wishing they spent extra time throwing logs.”
“Riiiight.” Stroking that of chin a long moment to really debate the truth of her factual statement. Letting it roll around in that of his skull possibly longer than utterly necessary whilst gaze seemed unusually lingering for any typical situation they were in.
So when she was shooting him a wicked grin suggesting she couldn’t wait to get all the grim off, Arc flashed her a grin right back. “I mean, that would have worked out well if we weren’t in the middle of my font. In the tower. Where you can create anythin’, like, ooh I don’t know… just a stray thought but maybe another bathin’ chamber for yerself.”
Water sloshed around that of waist as he picked himself up from simply his sitting state to well, start pushing things in a way that he was either going to find a new answer or she was going to suddenly disappear. Letting the distance close between them even as she was washing up, muttering something about the kilt and colours.
“Lia,” Voice dropped into a husky lull, reaching out to trap at least one arm to the side of stone so he could keep violets posed upon her. “Even yah know this isn’t want normal or even abnormal friends do. This… is what more does, sharin’ the same bath with nothing between them besides the water,” Tongue darted to break through lips, body lightly pocked with the evidence of his own night, “Wanna try again to why yah were so inclined to do somethin’ yah hated the idea of the maid getup that wasn’t even won fairly and now that yer… here.”
“To be fair, I did actually forget that I could conjure up an entire extra room if I wanted,” she admitted. Especially since it hadn’t even been even close to anywhere on the top of her list of ideas. There was already a perfectly beautiful new washroom, why would she want something different.
He was shifting about, sidling up closer and all Calia did was give him a flicker of a look, as if he weren’t anything more than one of those woodland faeries just trying to snuggle up. She wasn’t one of those blushing dames that found themselves all tantalized and tripping over themselves just because he slinked close with one of those puckish looks on his face. If he got an eye full of anything, it’d serve him damn right to finally have the real thing to picture in his mind when he kept daydreaming all those wild scenarios about her.
“why are you seeking real answers when you could have fun nonsense ones?” she asked him first, casting a frown over her shoulder and lathering up a bit of soap between her hands. “The truth isn’t all that entertaining. I can admit when I’m jealous, and jealousy is all that it is. You got to have your grand, apparently well satisfied night, and I can’t even dig up the daydream of dragging some kilted bastard to a barn somewhere. I have no fire.”
By the way she said it, that was quite possibly the worst thing in the world. Potentially even worse than her stolen heart, because truly she was becoming the ice queen indeed if she couldn’t fuck her way across the mountains with whomever caught her fancy!
“So I intend to be a vixen today and find it. One way or another.”
Whether or not he believed her about forgetting or she was just trying so very hard to meet every note of her faeish blood to be just that, a pestering fae; he couldn’t say. Only that it seemed very incredibly odd that she was going to go this far.
Sure, they weren’t atypical as what even close friends were and he was well aware of that. And perhaps this was a intention to figure out if she could rub two thoughts together to discern that what she was doing was in fact, misleading. Had he been someone else, boy! What sort of thoughts he would have been stumbling over and yet, as she was content to wash up, and giving him the sort of reply that actually got a roll of eyes, about to actually say something that was probably more annoyed that she kept avoiding the questions.
Just as his mouth opened to express she was avoiding spending the time to actually give him a real answer, he just stopped. Thoughts already going over knowing how well that was going to go, so there was no sense.
And she added on that she was simply jealous that he had a night apparently, earning a look but not really a lot else. “Yer the one that told me I could go and fraternize.” He stated matter of fact as body turned away to go back to the other side. Hoisting himself out and grabbing that of the floating tray to set on the side of the stones. Thankfully his bottom half had been clothed in a towel at some point! But how it was dripping wet, he clearly had done it when the bath had become crowded.
“Well yah got yer bath once more,” The boiling waters were given a bit of a jolt to ensure they stayed plenty warm as a new towel was materialized so he could dry most of himself. Letting it fall to shoulders, “I’ll be in my observatory when yer ready to go and have another round of harassment in the world after we speak with Ura.” He gave her a smirk that was well enough, “See if yer Lord Button’s shit cotton in a corner somewhere.”
He only paused at the door for a brief second, “I’ll grab whatever sort of scroll or parchment we may need to draft an agreement with yer first orc clan.” And toddled fingers in a wave that had him leaving the chamber proper. Leaving only wet footprints behind.
Well, he had her on that. She did tell him he could go and sow his wild oats and couldn’t get mad about that. Even if he’d been so eager to run off he practically disappeared to do it. So happy to get away from her and roll about with someone more pleasant! Felt like maybe she could consider a little more why that seemed to piss her off so much, but Calia didn’t like the answers that were floating up to the surface. Things that couldn’t come to be even if she wanted them. Lines that couldn’t be crossed for good reasons.
Once he’d left, Calia sank under the water imagining herself melting away into the bubbles to become nothing foam and steam. Dramatic surely, when wasn’t she! At least she wasn’t exploding into violence, she’d plenty enough of that yesterday to get it out of her system. Today she’d try something different to handle problematic feelings. She hadn’t lied about her jealousy, so surely the best way to deal with it would be finding a good looking someone to help her forget that she had feelings at all!
After she was done living up to her title, anyway. A scroll or parchment to sign deals with? That sort of officialness make her stomach churn with the hefty weight of somehow screwing up the futures of not just the people of Caeldalmor, now this orc clan seeking refuge too. Either of her siblings would’ve been better suited, the sort of persons that people liked and respected. She’d told Arc she could handle it this morning, though, and that was exactly what she would do.
Calia didn’t linger too long in the bath, just enough to get properly washed of all the sweat, blood, and dirt from yesterday. She combed through her hair and twisted it up with her silver pins, as she had almost every day since he’d given them to her. The clothing she’d chosen with purpose, though it always seemed to reflect small hints of her mood. The blouse was the same silken one she loved so much in Edelguard and now worn some variation of it since. Today it was a dark plum color with subtle embroidery that reflected the highlands instead of the elven lands. Her pants were the typical assassin’s leathers one would expect out of her, simply lightened up to a more welcoming brown with similarly colored boots. The entire look was casual but very clearly royal.
Maybe a little low in the cut as well, for she was royal but she was also a vixen today.
When she felt herself presentable enough, she’d sought out Archimedes, with one of those teabag mice in her hands as she was trying to tweak and refine it similarly as she’d been refining the cats. A little more mouse, a little less bag.
“I suppose I am ready as I can be,” she muttered on entrance. Making sure her little mouse had some proper ears. Better to listen for prowling cushion cats!
She’d find him at the very tippy top of the tower. Where walls that were usually the pointed roof that were generally closed, they had been unfurled back. Peels in curious asymmetrical petals to flow outwards, exposing the entirely upper tier in the false warmth of the day outside. Basked in bright gold’s and soft creams, as he had long since dressed into something perfectly him and less bothered to be remotely as dignified.
A sleeveless mantle of a brownish gray draped across his shoulders in asymmetric folds, the cloth layered and intentional, as though someone had tried to tame chaos and only partially succeeded. It left his arms bare, but that was hardly surprising. He clearly didn’t like sleeves, but he wasn’t bearing the beetle style gauntlet’s either. The high collar at his throat rose in sleek, dark lines, hugging his neck in a way that felt less like fashion and more like restraint—something designed to hold back the violence coiled beneath his skin.
Gold threaded through the ensemble in quiet defiance, not loud enough to boast, but too deliberate to ignore. A single amber gem rested at the center of his chest, suspended in a setting that looked ceremonial rather than ornamental. It glowed like captured sunset—warm, molten, alive in a way that made it feel less like jewellery and more like a sealed promise. The lower layers softened the severity without dulling it. A sash wrapped low around his waist, tied in layered folds that blended practicality with grace, the fabric lighter and touched with geometric patterns that hinted at an older culture—something elven, perhaps, something older than borders or crowns. The panels that fell from it were etched in pale gold designs, symmetrical and deliberate, like runes that had forgotten their language but not their meaning.
Ears betrayed her arrival before she did, eyes lifting some whilst he was busy adjusting some larger scale automaton that he had long since forgotten about till he came up here and started making it less of an attic and a new observatory space. Having already infused one of the open walls to be sporting a stretch of trellis and growing pots that had some variety of plants reaching up to twine amongst the trellis.
“Yah doesn’t sound confident,” He considered her arrangement of cloth a moment before nodding, “But if yer sayin’ it’s time to go and pretend to be half good at somethin’, then so be it.” He gave a flick and there was the beckoning of a scroll into palm.
Rolled and neatly coiled into place with a purple ribbon, making an offer to her. “If yah feel the need for some light readin’. It’s a peace accord,” he said simply. “Between Caeldalmor and the orc clans. Nothin’ flowery. No traps tucked between lines.” His gaze drifted briefly to the parchment, then back to her, softer than most people ever got to see it. Deciding to give her a bare understanding so she didn’t have to read over it.
“First—demons.” His tone sharpened just enough to anchor the room. “The orc clans take point on quellin’ what’s loose in Caeldalmor. Hunts, containment, clean-up. They know how to fight that kind of war better than most.” A faint pause followed. “And they keep Calia informed. Regular reports. No guesswork. No silence where there shouldn’t be.”
He shifted his weight slightly, expression calm but deliberate. “In return, Caeldalmor grants them land. Not borrowed or leased.” His voice carried quiet certainty. “Land they can claim as their own. Build on it. Bury their dead there if they choose. No crown above it but their own.” A small exhale left him before he continued. “Trade opens when Caeldalmor’s able to support it,” Arc added. “Caravans both ways. Resources shared where it makes sense. No forced timelines.” His mouth tilted faintly. “Stability first. Prosperity after.” His eyes flicked up again, more intent now.
“Leadership’s clear,” he said. “Calia and her siblin’s stand as the heads of Caeldalmor and can alter that at their discretion for what is best suited for the realm.” The words were simple, but there was steel under them. “If they speak, they speak for the realm.” He nodded once toward the parchment in her hands. “The orc clans name their own heads the same way. War-chiefs, elders, however they structure it.” His shoulders lifted slightly in a half shrug. “Yah don’t choose their voices. They don’t choose yers.”
A faint shadow crossed his expression then, something older and harder to name. “Smaller clauses fill the rest,” he went on. “Orcs act as defenders along the outer borders where they settle. First line against things that crawl outta the wilds.” His voice remained calm, but there was respect threaded through it. “They’re good at that. Always have been.”
He straightened slightly, arms falling back to his sides. “And it’s written clear,” Arc finished. “No one rules the other. No hidden hierarchy. No crown over clan, no clan over crown.” His gaze settled steady and unwavering. “Equal agreement. Chosen, not enforced. It’s not meant to sound grand,” he added quietly. “Just meant to hold.”
Arc uncrossed one arm then, fingers tapping once lightly against the wood beside him. “Then I added for the pair of yer groups, that I will offer somethin’ as well. As long as I am within the mundane realm.” He said, quieter but no less certain. “Any magical aid requested—I’ll provide it.” Stated as simple fact. “Wards, talismans, long-range protections. City barriers, border marks, whatever keeps people alive. Not just for Caeldalmor. For them too and if yah choose to reveal exactly what I am, they cannot stab me for it.”
He brushed off the front of his shirt, “Gotta stay at least somewhat upright for my duration of existence in this realm.” Offering her a easy chuckle then, “We’ll see what needs to be worked through later but for now, that’s the best I can do on a whim.”
Calia was clearly one hundred percent underdressed and as she blinked at the whole ensemble, decided this was perfectly fine – at least when it came to the orc warrioress. Archimedes being a curious something surely made a statement in comparison to whatever hell Calia thought she was doing.
Scrunching up her nose in that she didn’t sound confident for there was no reason to really hide that either. Not from him, anyway. He’d watched her bumble through enough things to know better. The scroll she took immediately to open and have a look at, getting through the first few sentences with that same sort of fumbling before letters and phrases did their usual wriggling across the pages. Calia tried her best to wrangle it, only to find herself immediately grateful when he decided to give her a basic rundown of what was actually written.
Having the orc clans handling demon hunting was a pretty obvious condition when she wasn’t sure she even had people left outside of the few refugees that fled. As she rolled the scroll back up to return it’s little ribbon she gave him a second curious look over at the way he said Calia, but gathered very quickly this was the Advisor Archimedes at work. Something in him had certainly shifted, and as she listened and watched those subtle movements it was with mixed curiosity.
All of it sounded more than reasonable – a relationship of mutual benefit. To lift up both kingdom and clan with no expectations beyond doing what was right and well for the people living. Calia even had some ideas where they’d bet able to settle first in gathering together to find stability, and where the orc clans could branch out to form their own borders, farm and mine and gather their own resources where they would stand on their own.
Then he slipped in the added clause about himself and she might’ve tripped had she been walking. Tilting her head to give a renewed look of examining him, now filled with such a carious concern, whatever bullshit feelings were plaguing her that morning, they were no longer of her concern. This was far more important.
“You would bind yourself into another contract?” she asked, candid and confused. “To another kingdom after everything that happened in Edelguard. How they treated you – and don’t say it was your fault, how they treated you from the start was wrong.”
“You don’t know what sort of people my siblings are, what sort of rulers they might become. Haaron is a bawdy dumbass and Araminta – well actually, you are liable to fall in love with Araminta, she is exactly your type – but that’s not the point. You’re already stuck with me, Archimedes, you don’t have to bind yourself to an entire kingdom and more with legal paperwork and promises that someone down the line might take advantage of.”
All this was old and familiar. And so annoying blasé that even as he had arranged everything into a suitable agreement for now, he was grateful to be done with it. No matter how long he had been fundamentally trained for this very delegation, it was work. Real, truthful work that expressed he really wasn’t as stupid and reckless as he showed himself to be. It also proved he could take things seriously when they really needed it but it was incredibly reserved for only the most important and right situations.
Carlisle would have appreciated his efforts, sure. But that was the past and now it felt vital to provide Calia with something he had been trained for. Even if he might start actually rallying a tab for every time she needed him too.
Ready to indicate they could leave when she felt ready, she spoke. Looking at him like he had grown something peculiar on his face and nattering about binding himself to another contract. “I didn’t bind myself in any capacity. It’s an alliance. An offering of skill and magic that I know how to do rather well. Unless yah want to start leanin’ over books for wardcraft, geometry of silence, first circles and dead alphabets of elder courts.” Stating a matter of fact, “Look Lia, I’m tryin’ to be helpful and unless yah want me to write a clause that expresses I will arrive every mornin’ at nine o’clock to magic their furs and pants into dancin’ the waltz, I think yer over stressin’ about what I’m doin’.”
He gave her a softer look, “Let me be useful and its my own way of offerin’ aid to a land that if yah recall, I was also summoned to raze and pillage. I did murder innocents too so, let’s just accept that I wanna try to mend thin’s the only way I know how. With magical efforts that are meant to help and not to turn demon parts into holy weapons.” Air quoting that liberally, “And yer siblin’s, I ain’t worried about. And by the way, I ain’t fallin’ in love ever again. So yah don’t have to worry about that. Ain’t she with the huntsman, think that’s already self explanatory,” He shrugged, sidestepping with a motion of hand forward. Making the walls slowly close up once more, “Unless yer sayin’ that any help I could offer is worthless, I don’t think it’s worth worryin’ about.”
It was pretty clear by the instant confusion on her face and how she immediately had her inners wheels turning trying to figure out geometry of silence might be that she had no idea what those things were, before she shook herself out of being distracted by a thousand questions. Regardless of what she did and did’t know, she was powerful, she could learn. There was no reason for him to throw himself into further servitude to any crown. It didn’t matter if it were her family, her people. He didn’t have to tie himself to them for something that might take generations to accomplish.
Then he had to go and explain – it fell into place then, his guilt and his desire to fix those few wrongs that had been his fault. Calia wasn’t sure when she’d forgotten and let it go those times he’d been careless and cruel. When she finally saw past it to forgive the man he was in those moments. The rage she’d felt then was all consuming – she had legitimately wanted to see him dead and even attempted to do the deed herself! Now even just the idea that some contracted deal with his name on it could go sour seemed to churn her stomach.
They’d both become something curiously new, it seemed.
Calia very conveniently pretending that his declaration of never falling love didn’t making something in her empty chest cavern howl. That had nothing to do with her anyway and wasn’t any of her goddamned business.
“…alright. If it is what you wish, then I trust you. Your help will be welcomed, if not by others, at least by me,” she acquiesced, melting into a looser stance before wrinkling up her nose. “And she is not with the huntsman. My sister isn’t like myself, she hasn’t been with anyone, and if I’m honest I’m not even sure she knows what a dick is for to begin with.”
“It’s what I wish. I wouldn’t have put it in there if I thought it was a bad idea and about to shackle me in some way. I know I’m stupid a lot of times, but I can think ahead sometimes.” Chuckling at her very easy acquiescence to finally just accepting what he did was for a few listed reasons. Understanding that she did have the gentlest of intentions and hopes that he wasn’t doing things that would put him in an awkward position.
Her concern was noted. And his reply had been made. They were adults and could verbally express such things that nothing was confusing.
At least in this case.
And yet, he laughed. A bright sort of merriment at her whole suggestion that her sister wasn’t with the huntsman. Throwing her a look, “If she’s like the little lasses that I have a favourin’ towards, oh… give it time, acushla.” Arc grinned at her, “What I know about the huntsman, hmmm… I think it’s a ol’ fashion love story well on its way.” He lifted a hand up to indicate he didn’t know everything and he wasn’t about to guess too heavily. “She’ll figure it out at her own pace. Not everyone stays innocent forever and well… fate and blah blah.” That got him to wave said hand around whilst starting down the stairs.
“By the way, yah inferred that. I said she was with the man, y’know… like a companion. Traveling.” He called up the way he had left, “Yer the one implyin’ thin’s, bunny. Now are we guna get this shit done, I’ve got a day of more fratnerizin’ and yah gotta be the vixen with yer tiddies about to fall out!”
“You had a context and tone, Archimedes, I know exactly what with you were meaning!” she shot back. It didn’t matter, for it was already too late. He’d placed the seeds into her head. Araminta was indeed one of those precious souls, welcoming and kind even to ones that couldn’t possibly deserved it. If that Huntsman had turned against his own parent, then there was no doubt in her mind that her sister had won the man over! He’d put the moves to her and of course Araminta would end up in some situation she didn’t have a clue about!
Calia would tear out the man’s bones, grind them up and feed them to him. He would wish he never met a daughter of Caeldalmor if he harmed her gentle elder sister.
She’d forgotten she had that teabag mouse in her hands and had nearly squeezed it’s leaves out! It waggled and waved it’s arms, squeaking a dramatic cry before she came back to the present and softly set it up one of shelves with a quiet apology.
Just as quickly glancing down to make sure she hadn’t donned the wrong sort of blouse only to find her tiddies were perfectly respectable. Calia let out a scoff before following after him. She almost asked him if the two or three he had last night were not enough and thought better of it. She didn’t need to know what he was getting up to or with who, she’d be happier for it and so would he!
All she got was a bit of nefarious chuckling that she was implying he had a context and tone, where she simply knew what he meant. Even if it wasn’t at all what he had, not that it really mattered. He stood by his statement about if this Araminta was like the little lambs he tended to gravitate towards, then Theon Edmonstone was doomed to be in the arms of the sibling. And it might not be terribly bad, because he did know about the Edmonstone siblings well enough. And that was not a sort of life he would wish even on his worst enemy.
Again, it wasn’t worth the topic as he was already gliding down the stairs, calling up back at her because she was taking so long to come along.
Merely waiting at the very bottom whenever she decided to bring herself down so he could open the front door back into the Hog Wolly festivities. Discretely of course, making sure they weren’t just stepping out into the broadness of an event so mayhem and chaos could unfurl.
Just out of a room within the tavern that was as casual as if they had actually purchased a place at all. Smoothing down his form that demonic pieces were tarried away and reverted back to more Silverstone mixed Bloodstone arrangement so he could be just that elf.
Brushing off hands after a moment and, “Well, lady of the lead. Shall we, a good advisor always follows their liege.”
He might’ve actually enjoyed getting to play the role of a posh advisor, though Calia doubted he would ever admit it. Arc would claim he couldn’t stand the work, that it was getting in the way of his fraternizing and trouble making, while she was fairly certain by now that he actually loved to have a chance to solve problems for once, instead of being one. With the way the mages of the Bladerift Tower behaved, they seemed far more interested in what powerful monstrosities they could make with mage rather than actually helping people.
The tavern was quiet there in the morning, while the mountain people seemed to party hard they also slept hard. With a few having even passed out where they lay while the morning barkeeps worked around them. Calia did take the lead, stepping out into the morning sun and walking down the single street where lots of people were up and about already, though now it seemed to be more of families taking their little ones out while things were a little calmer instead of the rowdiness of the later afternoon. There were smaller games setup alongside the street, like little ring tosses and piglet chases. As they wandered on down to the big festival meadow, more of those little sections had been set up in between the larger events for adults.
Calia passed by it all heading farther still until they’d come to the long stretch where several different clans had setup personal camps amongst a variety of colored tents. It didn’t take long to find where the orcs had setup their own camp, for they had no banners or colors or emblems to proudly display. Though, there was a roughly painted set of run symbols along one of the brown canvas tents that likely was a family creed.
On sight, the same thing stood out to her again in that she only seemed to be aware of female orcs of all ages. Wrinkled up old ladies, strong middled aged and young women with bared arms going about their daily tasks. What caught her by surprise was the sight of youths and adolescents, actual children. Young boys clearly too young to be out on their own just yet, still lean and not grown into their big hands and feet. Children running around playing with sticks, while toddlers and wee babies were clinging or wrapped tight to a mother’s hips. Calia had never actually seen a young orc before, she honestly sort of thought they’d sprung out of the mountain stone and muck fully grown, as stupid as that sounded!
“Spellbreaker,” called out Ura upon spotting them, leaving Calia blinking for a moment before fading into a wry grin. Spellbreaker, Cursebreaker, all seemed to be the same thing anyway. On her approach, Calia immediately handed over the neatly tied scroll with purple ribbon.
“Peace accord, drafted neat and tidy,” explained Calia as Ura unraveled the parchment and gave it a cursory read. Something keen flickering in her gaze as she glanced up at Calia, quickly over to Archimedes and back before she rolled it up and handed it off to a older orcish woman that’d joined at her side.
“What is your weapon of choice, Calia Dalgaard?” asked Ura, curiously making no mention of the accord itself and successfully throwing Calia off the next set of replies she’d carefully practiced in her head.
“…the short sword. Aren’t you going to read it to make sure it’s acceptable?” she questioned, while Ura nodded to her second, waiting for the woman to skuttle off and fetch a pair of weapons.
“I will hear it in your own words,” Ura answered, taking one of the swords and tossing it to Calia before tilting her head for them to step over to an open space free of any tiny running legs or obstacles that might be in the way. “Fight me as you would in true combat and speak of your kingdom, Spellbreaker. How did demons become such a blight to your kingdom.”
There wasn’t a chance for Calia to decline this whole idea of a… friendly combat? Ura O’foruk asked her question and with an immediate strike that looked far too deadly to be friendly forced Calia to defend herself through parrying and deflecting a few swings and side stepping to keep herself from being barreled over. Once she was in the clear, she stood there for a brief moment, frowning ever so slightly and at least tried to think very carefully of how she would answer.
“It was me,” she admitted, and with that single dramatic statement used the surprise to launch an offensive attack of her own. A thrust and a swipe, quick on her feat for she had the advantage there where Ura had brute strength behind her. “Because I kept a powerful secret from my family–” a a spin and another side-step to give a swing that Ura again deflected. “my heart was stolen for reasons I have still have not discovered.”
A grunt followed when Ura’s deflection involved shoving back so hard she had to skid on the ground to stay on her feet.
“Then how do you wield such magic now,” bluntly asked the orc woman, tapping her nose to remind Calia that she knew and had witnessed it. It was not something she would gloss over and forget. With her question, Ura took the offensive again and it seemed the entire conversation was going to go this way. A back and forth of words and swords.
“I wield magic through Archimedes, after the second time I found him in a dungeon. That is a complicated story.”
Where Calia paused again waiting to see how this information landed, almost holding her breath. The larger orc woman gave a grizzly wide smile, exposing long tusks in the process.
“Dangerous to admit such things.”
“Keeping secrets did me no good. There’s no reason to lie now,” answered Calia.
It continued this way for a long while yet, with Ura asking questions between trying to knocked her head loose in one fashion or another, Calia answering them with a countering of her own. The orc chief pulled no punches, both physically and verbally. Demanding to know what Calia’s ambitions were for her kingdom – the princess did not know beyond righting what was wrong, and when she near got knocked on her ass, found she had some better answers – a true city within Caeldamor of more than just the valley clans. Calia wanted to see people of all sorts and kingdoms. She wanted to see bright colors and culture and trade. To have the valley kingdom come to life instead of being hidden and locked away in the mountains.
Calia did not hold back her own questions either – what did a warrior people really want? Would she need to be concerned about Ura’s clans starting battles on her borders? What was Ura hoping to accomplish once they’d established themselves within the mountains, to which the orc chief was glad to boast and answer. Orcs had been betrayed and for so long have been hunted within the Imperial Lands that they’d lost much of their own culture and of who they used to be. Ura planned to take inspiration from Calia’s own ancestor, to become a Uniter of Clans. Create a new orc empire and focus that warrior spirit into prosperity. For a warrior could fight for more than just war, they could fight to heal, to craft, to grow.
They had quite a few things in common, it seemed.
By the time they were done, Ura had worked herself up into being invigorated and quite excited about the prospects for their future, while Calia was deciding sweaty mountain men were just going to have to appreciate a sweaty mountain woman, because she wasn’t about to take yet another bath! The elder that’d been given the scroll had long since gone over the fine details of it to be sure it held nothing of ill intent, gladly nodding her approval to Ura. Swords were set aside in favor of stools and hefty mugs of some orcish brew that smelled like a donkey’s backside.
“How do you wish to seal this treaty? I hear it is noble tradition to give a son or daughter for marriage. Mine son is strong and will make good children. He would make you a fine husband.”
Calia nearly choked on her drink and Ura gave such a mighty laugh!
At their arrival to the orc encampment and his own attention having been curious enough to browse without any sort of impression of mischief or something else, there was a tilt to ear when Ura spoke. Eyes following where the parchment went whilst somewhere in the mess of his head did he arrange the understanding that to an orc, papers and words were pretty.
Blood and honour, fighting and courage spoke louder than those superficial things. Not to say they were so stupid that they didn’t understand the importance of it being scrawled out at all. No, he could bet that Ura understood that the paper held weight but she needed more from Calia. Something that paper couldn’t give and it was likely a test of her mettle. Both physical and verbal. And entirely up her alley, so he had no reason to even intervene.
Instead, he simply watched a few minutes to be sure of well nothing and everything, before helping himself to be exactly the sort of creature he typically was. The one that preferred to avoid work and well, there was plenty of little orcling’s abound that he found more interest in because children were free spirited. Children, he had long ago decided, were the most honest creatures in the world. There were no politics, no careful words and rarely any expectations beyond play.
Which for him, was perfect.
A small pack of orc children occupied it with absolute authority, their laughter and shrill battle cries ringing through the camp. They were smaller than the warriors moving through the encampment, but already broad and sturdy, little tusks just beginning to press through bright grins. A crude wooden spear clattered to the dirt as two of them wrestled over possession of it, while another stubbornly attempted to climb a barrel that seemed determined to win the contest.
Slowing as he began to pass only for his features to turn into a grin and wandered closer. Making sure that all older eyes knew he wasn’t about to do anything unfavourable, he was simply elven entertainment on legs!
His shadow stretched across their makeshift battlefield before he spoke, and one of the children noticed immediately. A little orcling with wild black hair and darker green skin squinted up at him suspiciously. The others followed his gaze, their scuffle pausing mid-grapple. Arc crouched easily, resting his elbows on his knees as violet eyes flicked across the scene with interest. “Well now,” he said lightly, voice warm with amusement. “Is this a war council? Yah all look terribly serious.”
The suspicious one puffed out his chest. “We’re fighting.” Like the whole arrangement was clearly obvious.
“Ah.” Arc nodded with solemn understanding. “Of course yah are. Terrible business, fightin’.”
Another child lifted the wooden spear toward him in accusation. “You’re not from here.”
Arc tapped a finger thoughtfully against his temple. “Sharp eyes. A dangerous skill. Yah’ll frighten diplomats with observations like that.” Then he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a great secret. “So,” he asked conspiratorially, “Who’s winnin’?”
Chaos followed instantly, three voices erupted over one another!
“I am!”
“No he’s not!”
“She cheated!”
He blinked slowly as accusations flew and hands waved wildly in explanation. One of them attempted to demonstrate the exact nature of the cheating and promptly tripped over his own feet. The laugh that escaped Arc was bright and genuine, nothing like the polished chuckle he used around nobles. “Alright, alright,” he said, lifting both hands. “Clearly this battlefield requires a neutral judge.”
“You?” the first orcling asked skeptically.
Arc placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Why, I am a renowned judge of extremely important matters.”
“Like what?”
“Card games, drinkin’ contests, dramatic duels, singin’ competitions.” His grin turned mischievous. “The occasional pie theft.”
The children blinked. “…What’s pie?”
“…That,” He declared gravely, rising and clapping his hands once, “Is a tragedy I must correct someday. But for now —show me how this battle works.”
They did not need to be told twice! Within moments they were dragging him into the game, eagerly explaining rules that seemed to change halfway through each sentence. Two teams, a pile of sticks pretending to be weapons, and a “chief” perched proudly atop a crate who needed to be tackled by the opposing side.
Arc listened with exaggerated seriousness that was best given to the youth when they were enrapt with their detailed explanations. Taking it all in with a thoughtful nod. Taking to shuffling the front of his shirt to demonstrate his very professional acceptance of his new role. “Very well,” he announced. “I’ll be on… that side.” He pointed randomly.
Immediate protests erupted. “He’s too big!”
Arc looked down at himself with theatrical consideration, “Well that does seem unfair of me.” He dropped into a crouch until he was nearly level with them. “There! This should balance it all out.”
The children exchanged brief, uncertain glances. Hardly seeming to really consider this as the battlefield exploded into motion! Two orclings charged him first with fierce battle cries. Producing a dramatic gasping, staggering backward as though struck by tremendous force. “Oh no!” Crying out with all his best theatrics to sell it. “Ambushed!”
One latched onto his leg. Arc collapsed immediately into the dirt like a felled tree, and within seconds the rest of them had piled on top of him. “Captured!” someone shouted triumphantly.
Arc squirmed beneath the heap of limbs, laughter caught in his voice. “Well that was quick!” He twisted suddenly, scooping two of them under his arms and rolling onto his back so they tumbled together in a tangle of limbs and delighted shrieks.
“Counterattack!” The game dissolved into joyous chaos. Children climbed him like a jungle gym. One attempted to steal his belt pouch. Another tugged curiously at his blue hair. Arc played along with wholehearted enthusiasm, lunging dramatically through the dirt to “rescue” teammates and allowing himself to be toppled in spectacular fashion when three determined attackers worked together.
At one point he scooped up the smallest child and spun them around while making exaggerated dragon noises that sent the others into hysterics! All without the faintest flicker of magic as he wasn’t about to risk any random mountain wanderer passing by and seeing such things come to fruition. Even if such a task would have brought such a secondary fun to the whole battle!
For now if he was simply going to play the fool –something he was impressively good at time and time again,- it was best done correctly!
And when the final battle ended, Arc lay flat on his back in the dirt while five victorious orclings stood triumphantly atop him. The leader planted the wooden spear beside his head. “You lose!”
Arc squinted up at them, breathing dramatically as though he had survived a terrible war. “I have been defeated,” he admitted with solemn dignity. Only turning into a easy grin, “But only because my opponents were clearly elite warriors.” The children beamed with pride.
One plopped down on his stomach with the comfortable weight of a conqueror. “You fight funny,” the child informed him, such a thing needed to be said in case he wasn’t aware of it.
That he simply laughed at, hardly offended. “Years of specialized trainin’. It’s an old family secret, I can’t tell yah the in’s and outs for fear of disgracin’ our traditions!”
Another tugged at his arm eagerly. “Play again!”
Arc lifted his head briefly, glancing across the camp where Calia and Ura continued their discussion among the warriors. Whatever politics unfolded there remained firmly in the realm of adults. Which suited him just fine.
He dropped his head back into the dirt with an exaggerated sigh. “Well,” he said, stretching his arms wide, “I suppose I could attempt one final heroic comeback!” Immediately they burst into that of excited cheers. And as they scrambled to reset their battlefield, Arc found himself laughing softly to himself. In a camp full of warriors, sometimes the best place to be…was losing gloriously to their children!
It was unsurprisingly that Calia fit in very well with a bunch of orc women, at least unsurprising to everyone but Calia who was finding out for the first time that her temperament and way of being too blunt and aggressive for some was perfectly appropriate when it came to orcs. They spoke plainly, didn’t care for too much bullshit. Not to say they didn’t have their own theatrics and romantic sentimentality, only that the way the expressed it was with an intense passion. She learned more about Ura’s divided clan, that when her son was taken hostage by the Imperial Queen, she and her husband held vastly differing opinions of what could be done. Ura wanted to fight directly, storm the keep and declare war against the Blood Queen herself. The Chief Burule refused as such actions would cost too many lives from their already waning clan. In her rage and anger, Ura took the women and young with her to the mountains with plans to march an army of her own.
In hindsight, she admitted that she let her anger cloud her judgement. Her husband was not a coward for his caution, he merely wished to protect what was left of their people. But Ura was right herself that they could no longer allow the Blood Queen to continue her reign. Something must be done… and Calia’s appearance had turned out to be an auspicious bit of luck. Once the clan makes it through Caeldalmor into the place Calia offered for their settlement, she intended to send for her husband, the rest of her clan, and see about rescuing her son.
There was a moment Calia offered to stage the rescue herself – and why not? She and Archimedes were plenty dangerous, some fortified castle somewhere would be nothing. This was where she learned that if she was missing her own heart, meddling in the affairs of the Imperial Queen might very well be the worst thing she could do. Bloody Heirra was the Queen of stealing hearts, rumored to not just have taken them from her most loyal of minions, but even from her own children. It was best for her to follow her own quest, seek out where he own heart had been taken and for what purposes.
Ura O’foruk did admit this warning was a selfish one, for she needed Calia as her ambassador. Her connection to Caeldalmor for the sake of the orc clans. Leaving Calia having to admit herself, she’d learned her own lesson about heading into things before she had enough information.
Eventually Calia found her sights wandering to seek out Arc, assuming he’d likely had himself practically bent over the lap of some grinning orc woman. They may no be his usual type of small, sweet, pretty little things but he had a habit of flirting with anyone and everyone that flirted with him, and doubted he’d miss an opportunity. Only to find him getting thorough destroyed by an entire gang of screaming orcish children. And that… that at least soothed parts of her that’d started the day irked.
“Feeling the call of motherhood?” asked the wrinkled elder known as Tah’re.
Calia grimaced. “By the gods, no. We have been through many things, it’s only good to see him being lighter.”
“He has a healer’s heart,” claimed Tah’re, taking a long drink of her draft. Calia shot her a look, somewhere between agreeing but also quite surprised that such a thing would be said about a demon at all, drawing a wide knowing tusk fill grin out of the orc. “Hearts do not care what the shape of one’s form is and where one was born. Orc, demon, nor elf. A heart speaks it’s own truth, it’s own strength. They thrive, they love, the hate, they break all the same.”
“All the more reason to be wary of those that steal them,” uttered Ura, just to make sure that point was driven home. “Be careful as you travel, Spellbreaker. You have too many enemies and not enough friends.”
That wasn’t the sort of statement that’d fill most people with confidence, but it had Calia grinning wide all the same. When she made sure that silly official parchment was sign – no sense in letting that work go to waste, Calia even stamped it with her signet ring – she bid the Chief Ura and her elders goodbye.
She considered for a moment leaving Archimedes at the mercy of orc children, to begin her hunt for some proper company… only to stand there watching from the sidelines with a thoughtful quiet. Eventually she just rolled up her sleeves to adjust her appearance, squared her shoulders and approached with her hands on her hips. Giving the sort of postured look she’d seen her mother give a thousand times, somehow all seriousness and mirth wrapped into one.
“What in the blazing suns has been done to my advisor? He looks beaten half to death!”
The battlefield froze for half a heartbeat at that approach of another. Arranging herself into the best pose of bemused looming while he was once more on his back. Dust floating freely as at least three of the children had been occupying strategic positions on his person! One had claimed his stomach as a throne. Another had hold of his arm. The remaining two were temporarily debating something till Calia’s voice called across their little makeshift arena.
Immediately sizing her up while he personally didn’t make an effort to move. Merely lifting his head just enough to glance towards her from beneath the pile of mini victorious warriors. Eyes narrowing in mock contemplation before letting his head drop back to the dirt in a theatrical defeat. “It was treachery,” he announced gravely.
It wasn’t surprising that they broke into explosive protests!
“We beat him fair and square!”
“He lost!”
“He fell down!”
The orcling seated on his stomach thumped a fist against Arc’s chest proudly. “I killed him!”
Arc lifted a finger weakly toward the sky. “See?” he said solemnly to Calia as if he needed to be sure that he really sold home the point. “Savage efficiency.”
Another child pointed accusingly at him. “He tried to run!”
Arc turned his head toward the accuser with wounded dignity. “I repositioned,” he corrected, only to spur a new set of arguing because how could be so wrong and convinced he was right!
“No you didn’t!”
“You fell!”
“You said ‘oh no!’”
Arc rubbed his face slowly with one dusty hand before looking back at Calia with a long suffering sigh. “Yah send me on a diplomatic mission,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the small conquerors surrounding him, “And this is the reception I receive.”
One of the children leaned over him to peer at Calia curiously. “Are you his chief?”
Another jabbed the spear toward Arc again. “You cannot have him back. He’s our prisoner.”
Arc lifted both hands slightly in surrender. “You see the problem,” he said mildly. “And in my defense,” he added lightly, “They fight dirty.”
The children erupted again, which at this point he was simply enjoying being able to effectively do each time! Where they weren’t aware they were being baited. “We do not!”
“You lost!”
“And we won!”
Arc tilted his head slightly toward her as if offering a quiet aside while the victorious mob continued shouting over him. “I believe they’re demanding terms of surrender, fearless lady.” he said thoughtfully.
It took a great deal of Calia’s willpower not to smile and giveaway that this might be the most delightful thing she’d seen in a long while. She may not have been interested in having any children of her own, it didn’t mean she didn’t adore them. Children still saw the world through wonder and whimsy. All they wanted was to interact and explore it through play – and play was something sorely lacking in Calia’s life. Or at least it had been for a long, long time.
“I am his chief,” she affirmed bending forward to rest her hands on her knees to get a more eye level look with the lot. “And he is my heart. So I cannot allow you to keep him as a prisoner.”
As for Arc’s suggestion of negotiating a surrender, Calia immediately wrinkled up her nose.
“…I have negotiated enough to today. If I have to fight my way through an orc army to have you back, so be it.”
While she might’ve snatched up the forms of faeries and tossed them all over the place, she wasn’t about to do that with a gaggle of children. Not when play was paramount and Archimedes was in the perfect position to mess with just as the children were. She claimed she would take him back, and take him back she would do!
Dropping her arms she stalked over to his legs, no caring a wit about who was sitting on him or holding an arm hostage. Calia snatched up both his legs under her arms and started dragging. Prone demon and attached children and all!
The one currently holding the spear gave Calia a look that had he been older, might have actually been properly frightening. In this case, he just looked like a angry kitten. A look at earned a sort of muffled lip press less he break into a chuckle that would ruin the whole radiating feral aura this was trying to have. “Chief or heart, he is ours! We won fair and square.”
Arc tipped his head towards Calia with a sort of expression that simply read, hard negotiator. At least for two seconds while these little sprouts had no idea the measure of a fae queen in the making, had. Never mind that he was equally starting to smirk at the he is my heart reference. Personally amused because she didn’t realize how close she was to figuring out what acushla meant.
Of course these littles were about to find out quickly how stubborn the fae girl was, when she stalked over to grab his legs and started to drag him and those collected, away! “Hey, she’s cheating!” The one that had been around his arm released to cry out. Leaving on really the one on his legs and chest to remain as they were adjusting out of interest to how this was going to go.
His back was probably going to be dusted and scratched all to hell from the pebbling but ah well. “Get the chief!” The one declared with the spear, raising said item in the air and rallying his comrades into war.
“Oh hell, look what yah’ve started for me now, oh chief.” Arc lamented pathetically behind a chuckle. Watching as they began to chase, one lunging to grapple themselves around one of her legs and tried to shake her vigorously! Offering their best war cry too!
That mulish look from the orc child received naught but the narrowing of Calia’s eyes, as heaven forbid she smile and not take this as seriously as it deserved. After all, were these not children if anyone had dared said such a thing to her, they’d not have teeth or tusks at all anymore!
“Cheating? If you can’t hold onto what you’ve captured, you don’t deserve to keep it.” A lesson they ought to learn well now, for she surely wasn’t going to let them think they could call her a cheater and get away with it. Not surprised in the slightest at their spear holding leader declaring her the next target to be taken down. Nor surprised at Arc’s dramatics – he was enjoying himself indeed!
Calia snapped her teeth with a bitebite towards one that got too close, enough to have them yelping and backing off unsure if she’d actually bite them or not. Just long enough for some other to tackle and grapple her leg with such a force that it nearly sent her reeling off her feet. Good that she caught herself for she would’ve landed right on top of that snickering demon!
When shaking her leg didn’t loosen the child, well… she continued dragging, demon, clinging orclings and all!
“Look at that! I claim these clingons as prisoners! Everything I carry out is mine to keep!”
The whole idea that they claimed she was cheating by that of his slow dragging kidnapping, only for Calia to point out that it was on them not being able to hold onto what they’ve captured? Well you’d think she threw a beehive into the middle of them. For they ignited into a sort of squabble of bodies that no longer had any intent on him but to add her to their cache of defeated members.
It was a good thing they were little because he might have actually been concerned for both of their health’s if they were fully grown and muscled green thick orcs! Granted they weren’t and some of them proved to have more limb than balance. Attempting to take Calia down only that they misjudged and ended up on the ground.
One managed, wrangling themselves around her leg with a furious effort and found it to be quite in vain. Maybe a bit surprised because when they had come at him, he’d toppled. Letting them be the victors in play but Calia was their final boss. Realizing somewhere in their attempt to rattle her as the one with the spear came trotting up and was clearly looking at how he was going to stop Calia without actually causing harm. Aware enough not to take this into violence even if their little jaw clenched with a bit of desire to do so.
Another managed to get themselves to replicate the whole attaching to the leg but started to try and climb Calia as a tree. Short lived because the whole walking and climbing at the same time tended to generate a sort of awkward canter that had the orc child quickly abandoning to roll across the ground. Eventually –as his back was actually getting quite sore from being drug around like he was a piece of meat- Arc scooted the child off his stomach that had been content to use him as a sled. “I think the chief is the fair winner unless yah wanna be her wash children, scrubbing floors and walls.”
Chorus, the ultimate evil!
“No!” A cry of agreement rang as they quickly gave up the idea of trying to best the fae queen and left him quickly to be just that hock of beef on the ground, with him looking up at her with a sort of can I stand up now, I’m quite dirty… again.
“Yes!” agreed Calia. “All of my war prisoners are doomed to a life of washing clothes, dishes, and themselves until everything smells of flowery lavender and sweet honey! And all will have to dress in frilly pants with lace and shirts with ruffles and the obscene sort of colors only elves would wear!”
Every word spoken seemed to earn even louder horrified protests and wails until they were so thoroughly disgusted that even the most stubborn of the group took off in a running scream. Calia might’ve even been concerned she went a step too far, but the screaming only lasted as far as it took them to start fresh excited rumbling.
Calia crouched down to the prone form of her defeated advisor, flicking a small twiggy thing out of his hair and attempting in vain to get a smudge off his temple.
“I am starting to think you have no place on a battlefield at all,” she stated first with a straight face. After a beat easing into something far more honest and relieved. “I wish it was always as easy as this. Fate should’ve had me as orcborn, I would’ve turned out better.”
Now that was one way to ensure the little rough and tumble children were sent to fleeing. The description of being put to chore work while wearing the worse sort of ruffles and linens, she might as well have pulled out personally each of their nightmares. For they quickly decided that their smitted catch was absolutely not worth such efforts.
Abandoning him and leaving him to be the last remaining survivor in that of the Fae Queen’s court. Her victory was steeped in the threat of lavender whilst the five had successfully gathered back to themselves. Delighted to have even had the change and were already nattering in their newest swing of excitement, whilst the fearless lady came to crouch down.
Crossing arms over stomach so he might look at her when she retrieved one of probably many twigs from crown, and took to trying to cleanse him of his well deserved war smudge. “I never said I had any place in battle,” Arc wiggled his fingers, “Remember, I’m nothin’ more than a reedy little gobshite of a elf.” Violets glittered with all the withheld mischief before she was saying something stupid again.
“If yah had been orcborn, then this,” Gesturing around, “Wouldn’t have come to be. Yah could’ve been caught in the battle and lost yer life due to the Imperial Queen’s hunt. Don’t say stupid shit like that when yah one of the best thin’s that has happened and yah turned out exactly as yah ought to be. Yah may not like yerself right now but I can say, others and myself do. Now,” He moved a hand up, “Help me up, I think I got more scratches on my back from yah than any other maiden in my life. And not even with a single nail.”
A reedy little gobshite elf, he was not. Maybe to the orcs and mountain folk, since there were no other elves around for comparison! He got no more than an amused smile at that, for there was no sense in arguing it when he was so pleased about landing in the dirt and being the punching bag for a bunch of children. Certainly a better fate than getting in the fighting ring and taking a few punches to the face, even if she would’ve like to see what he could do when they weren’t desperate to survive.
What she wasn’t prepared for was getting fussed at with the same vehemence he usually reserved for when she was stating perfectly true facts about herself, this time finding fault with her thought that she’d have made a better orc. She could accept that as an orc she’d likely have had a shorter life, and even accept that others had a liking to who she was now. His claim that she was one of the best things to have happened could go rightfully into a trash bin and lit on fire, for what a load of horseshit that was!
Calia didn’t say it out loud, but the twist of her mouth and wrinkle of her nose said it loud enough.
“Well then, now that responsibilities are done, I’ll let you escape to see if you can find a fair maiden that can possibly live up to the damages I’ve done,” she mused upon grasping his hand and helping tug him up back to his feet. He really was covered in all manner of dust and autumn leaves at this point, there surely was no point in either of them taking a bath this morning at all!
Oh she might as well have said it out loud because the way her features twisted, it practically screamed how she didn’t care to agree with him. Rather found it laughable and got herself a rarer side eye that expressed that he thought she was being stupidly stubborn about something she couldn’t control. He said what he said and meant it. Damn her mulish want to be right even if it was wrong.
But in turn, he was equally uninterested in debating semantics while trying to beat her over the head with the flaw in her, self deemed logic. Getting back to feet to dust off himself as best as one could, before raking fingers through the crown of blue to clear as much dirt and debris as possible.
Wasn’t like his appearance was needing to be all clean and refined, pretty sure that it would do him better to be constantly submerged in grit and mud for the event as it was. “Is that all that I am to yah, yer little scribble monkey today and then temporary distraction while yah take a few rounds from Ura to talk business?” His brow arched at her, “Yah can just say that yer done with my existence rather than seemingly tryin’ to throw me out the door like a cat that pissed on the floor.”
Arms opened, “I can flirt and prowl at the same time as being company. Unless yer tryin’ to politely tell me that I’m an unwanted cramp to yer own prowlin’. Which I would respect more than just bein’ shooed off like some particularly stupid toddler.”
Naturally he was going to find a way to argue with her anyway! For a man that claimed he hated fighting with her, he certainly found every moment possible to get offended by something! Leaving Calia to tilt her head back with a world weary sigh, contemplating if it was worth it TO toss him like a feral swiping cat. Preferably into a ring where someone else would punch him, so he wouldn’t go pointing at her smugly about her own violence!
“If I wanted to abandon you the second I was done with you, I wouldn’t have come to literally drag you off,” she pointed out, that impatience there but at least without the snap and bite of her anger. Instead she was shifting to rest her hands on her hips and giving him a thoughtful frown.
They’d come too far now to let misunderstanding get the better of them. As long as she was truthful instead of stomping away in a hissing huff, things would be alright. Even if at present she was contemplating adding a few teeth marks to those back scratches of his.
“Although to be honest, as much as I would prefer your company, I don’t think I can stand watching you charm every dame in the damn Hog Wolly. There’s no sense in me being sour and jealous and ruining a good time, when I could just go out and chase someone down myself.”
There was more than half a mind to mimic her body language as she did to him numerous times, but managed to resist it. As he knew that would be a sure fire way that they’d get into a match and he honestly didn’t want to risk being put into a headlock or using magic to get away in a spirited flee because he didn’t know when and where to do something.
Didn’t mean he wouldn’t give her his best impish look when she was standing there with her hands on her hips. Frowning at him, “I mean yah might have, yah do have this belief that I am helpless when it comes to defendin’ myself, even from terrifyin’ little orc tykes that like to scuffle.” Brows lifted as if that was a fine way to punctuate his sentence.
Although what she continued with managed to get him to stop favouring the flavour of potential shit disturber to truly give her a look over. Butting brows up to another, “It’s never bothered yah before,” Arc stopped, thought and reassessed their recent sort of mingling with other mortal forms. “It’s the second time yah mentioned jealousy, and yah ought to know that if yah earnestly wanted me to tag around, I would. I ain’t gotta chase nothin’ if yer needin’ me to be present and a constant company, y’know. Yah just gotta say it, I value yah more than tail. If yah need to be told that in clear words.”
Calia knew very well he wasn’t helpless, though even she could admit that’d she come saving him regardless if he was being crushed by small orclings or held in some psycho’s dungeons. That thought didn’t hold a candle to this sudden desire of his to call her out about things that she didn’t think needed an entire discussion about. Yet, as he said, it had never bothered her before, so it did give a moment of making a disgruntled sound and trying to needle out the whys beyond the obvious that he was getting something that she wanted but couldn’t seem to grasp so easily anymore.
“Even though I don’t much care about the rules of what friends can and can’t do, I at least have sense enough to know that I wouldn’t be a good friend if I kept you tied to my side all the time,” she pointed out, tilting her for the direction to walk before starting the steps herself. Regardless of whether or not they’d separate, they’d still be headed to the same direction anyway.
Of course Calia knew he wouldn’t be satisfied with that answer alone, he always wanted to prod a little deeper and it was her own damn fault for having admitted anything in the first place.
“There is something wrong with me,” she confessed, crossing her arms and furrowing her brows in a matching way that so plainly displayed her annoyance with the entire idea of it that she could’ve not said anything at all. “It used to be so easy to wander off and catch someone’s eye and just be gone and lost for awhile. Now that’s not quite enough so I supposed I am genuinely going to have to search.”
She shifted just enough to bump her shoulder against his arm, softening that annoyed look of hers to something genuinely sweeter.
“And regardless of whatever bullshit is going on in your head right now, I enjoy your company more than anyone else’s so you’ve raised the bar so high I’m having a hard time finding anyone to meet it. But it’s not fair of me to demand you spend your time with me, when you need the company of others.”
Giving his sides a final pat down to disperse any remaining dust clouds that wanted to cling, she was mentioning about how her lack of comprehension of what sort of guidelines were what friends did and didn’t do –mentally rolling his eyes because now she was bringing that up and when he said pointed things towards that, it ended up as something else. But managed to keep his expression properly schooled to interest rather than losing at least one eye in the back of his skull.
Shortly following her steps when he just made a loose shrug at the whole tied to her side all the time. “If yah asked, I would.” Repeating it so she understood that he wasn’t so dense that he wouldn’t understand her want to be presently near.
Thankfully she did continue without him having to prod even if she looked like she sucked on something rather sour. Mimicking a cat’s ass pucker, so tight that it could have made coal into a diamond!
He kept his tongue still even if he wanted to both tell her to stop saying there was anything wrong with herself and to cuff her upside the ear for it. It seemed to be her favourite expression and he was so over it. But this time he would just swallow his annoyance with it because she seemed to be so deep in her own head about this thought that she was jealous that he wasn’t struggling with the whole ability of cozying up to someone for a casual romp.
There could have been a thought about her simply having feelings that were currently listless and he did figure there was a misplaced and already fizzled crush that she would have had. Being bumped he chuckled at her, “This time, there ain’t much goin’ on. Besides wonderin’ what sort of bar yah had that I raised it to yer shins, cause clearly it’s gotta be fixed. I think yah just have the makin’s of Stockholm syndrome.” Jesting heavily so she knew he was merely joking about it, “I don’t need the company of others by the way. I enjoy it cause I’m a little horny devil that likes to be up close and personal is all. It’s far different than actually wantin’ the company of others.” Flickering a hand up, “I’m just an addict is all, gettin’ my high in a way that isn’t liquored up or ash deep in something foul. And I think yer deep in yer own head now with an accidental expectation of what yah want. Yah know, psychin’ yerself out. I mean here, yah would easily have any one of yer interest bendin’ to what yah want. Just a thought, don’t believe me if yah don’t wanna.”
A smirk formed, “I’ve never known yah to never just go for what yah want. No matter what it is or whom it is, yah know.”
If she asked him, he’d stay – which Calia was well aware of, that was part of the problem here that he did not seem to realize was a problem at all! At least he wasn’t get mad at her or taking up some perceived offence, even if she could see he was trying his best not to spout off that something she said was stupid. He was hiding it well, if looking like you were trying to swallow a frog was good hiding. All that really mattered was that he was taking her seriously at her word, even if he thought she was being ridiculous.
“Aaaahhh no,” she interjected, following that sound with a single finger rising to waggle right in his face as she hooked her other arm with his. “You can’t get mad at me saying mean things about myself, and then try saying I’m brainwashed into liking your company. You have to deal with me liking you and preferring you to everyone else.”
That was really all that needed to be said, and as he went on to insist that he didn’t need the company of others – bullshit – she did have to admit it was different than wanting. He wanted to be out living his best life, and honestly that was what Calia wanted to! Archimedes seemed to think she was getting in her own way, to which she laughed at first – was that not the story of her entire life? Getting in her own way?
Then he had to go smirking at her, drawing out her usual dubious squint. He’d never known her to not go after what she wanted, no matter of who or what. Calia couldn’t really say whether that was true or not, for there was a time he’d called her selfish. He wasn’t wrong, was he. Calia could do anything she wished to do if she really, truly wanted. No one could stop her from trying.
Yet, when she thought about it, really thought about what she wanted? It didn’t involve falling into bed with some stranger she didn’t even know the name of. Calia needed something more than that now, to be more than somebody’s good time, to be a friend and an confidant, to actually love and be loved. And the thought of having to go root around searching seemed like an absolute waste of time, when no one was going to even be able to hold a candle compared to the way she felt around Archimedes.
Thank all the gods of the realm that she was one of natural grace and so damn used to keeping her face in check when it came to sudden intense feelings, for the realization hit her so strongly she might’ve tripped over her own feet. Her heart might’ve lurched like a crack of thunder – what a terrible, stupid thing to have happened! No wonder it was called falling in love, it was a goddamned pit trap!
One that she had to climb out of, because the man himself said he wanted nothing to do with love ever again.
“You might be right about that,” she said with a breath. Bottle it up, stomp it down in that box deep in her chest she’d not been using near enough lately. It wasn’t going to do either of them any good to complicate what was an already complicated relationship. Especially when he had no real choice in being attached to her, until the terms of their bond had been met and neither needed each other anymore.
“That I am in my head about it. I’ve had a bad habit of falling into bed with the sorts that have a taste for murdering. Twice is bad enough, I don’t want a cursed three.”
It was hard to suppress the snorting chuckle when she was waggling her finger his in face. That turned to hooking her arm through his so they might saunter along in two rather than a divided wander. Giving a low tsking sound when she suggested she preferred him to other company, “I mean if we were to take a poll of those who knew me and those who only had a glimpse, I think the vote would all be in agreement that yah might be in a losin’ deal.” It was all play thankfully as he wasn’t remotely insulted. He might be concerned that she was getting a taste for him that was akin to drinking poison.
Of course it did make a part of his heart warm but he did know better. And as much as he cared about her, he didn’t want to get it into his own head that she’d never not leave. She was better being as free as fae typically were, and he knew she’d eventually be able to be surrounded by those that knew her best.
Her siblings were alive after all. Not that he mentioned that now.
Not when they were newly wandering through the Hog Wolly, and some of the people that had drank so deeply last night were attempting to stir. Poorly mind you, allowing the family sorts to continue their free casual walking without interruption.
It truly was in her favour she was typically pretty good at schooling her expression, because when she spoke up about him being right, Arc gave her a look that said about? That turned into a huffing breath out, “I mean, yer amongst yer mountain folk kin. If anyone would know if one is about to be a murderin’ jackarse, I think yah might have better tellin’.” He pulled his arm out from hers, only so he might loop it around her shoulders. Pulling her in closer with a gentle nudge of chin to her brow. Marking it softly with an affectionate peck, “Acushla, yah just gotta go for a throw. Pick any fella in a skirt and throw him down with a demand that he squish yah the way yah want. No thinkin’, just actin’. And if they turn into a murderin’ sort, then yah get to exact swift justice. I think here, would be the place that others might be quick to rally behind yah.”
Being around other mountain folk sure didn’t help her the first time! Calia didn’t even have a chance to point that out, instead getting tugged into the very sort of embrace that was making it absolutely impossible for her to want to spend time with anybody else. All it would take was one little step further, try some proper kissing, try some very improper kissing. Get every kind of naked and then just get to exist with someone she’d actually be happy to wake up with the next morning.
He really was just a huge pain in her ass!
“I sure didn’t put on my hunting clothes for nothing,” she told him instead, not sounding all that enthused about it, but Calia had made up her mind, regardless. She needed to get her feelings under control one way or another, and if they could not be directed at him, she needed to manage them some other way. Beating the shit out of Bonnie Bitchface Cleghorn had been enough for yesterday’s Calia, but today’s Calia was going to have to try more drastic things.
First she took advantage of the closeness to at least cling with a tight squeeze to his middle for several steps before she forced herself to let go and pull away. As she was often far too willing to hide away in his tower, she was too willing to find any excuse to stay physically attached to him to. She paused her walking to rest her hand on her hips again, giving him a quick considering up and down before just acquiescing with a sigh.
“Alright, any man in a skirt, no thinking, just acting.” she repeated. Decided it’d be her mantra for the day. “I guess you’ll be the first to know if I’m raging mad so at least come stop me before I go burning down the whole valley. I suppose if I am any sort of lucky I’ll see you in the morning.”
“That’s my girl,” He gave her a gentle squeezing of encouragement when she expressed that she hadn’t put on her hunting clothing for nothing. Ready to ra-ra her into some sort of cheer if it really had to be done, though he hardly suspected she needed it. Doubtful that Calia forgot she could easily turn heads no matter what she did –and she did- and right now she just needed to empower herself with the recollection that she truly could do anything she wanted.
She already dressed to be enticing –though she was a stunning woman already so that she dressed in anything was just added fun for whomever she took to her whims- but he easily returned her squeeze and straightened up no sooner.
“I mean, a little thinkin’. Don’t pick some loser that whistles just right,” Arc stated as he reached out to tuck a few strands of her ebon locks behind an ear. “And I’ll be just a call away if yah need me for anythin’, Lia. I mean that by the way, before yah get it in yer head that yah shouldn’t reach out if somethin’ feels fucked up. I’m right here and I’ll be ready to either help yah brin’ down a roof of the bar for fun or hell. Or if yah just need me around.” Lips pulled into a grin as he leaned forward to peck her cheek before slipping just past her. “Remember, call for anythin’, love.” Lingering just a second before he was sliding literally sideways because a duo of young women had come wandering by just close enough to act as a perfect segway so he wasn’t potentially ruining her style.
Once upon a time he’d called her Hot and Cold, and he might as well have been describing himself. Getting offended one minute to being heart achingly kind the next, it was enough to drive anyone crazy! As well as making it incredibly difficult to actually walk away, when it would be so easy to call him back and just spend the rest of their day being willfully stupid together. Watching him step aside and find himself so immediately in the company of others was enough to solidify her resolve. Taking in a deep breath and forcing herself to walk away.
Calia was a disaster about many things, the majority of her feelings especially! This, though, was an easy choice. If she tripped and fallen into a love trap, so be it. She was capable of loving someone without being territorial and possessive. She could be a part of his life without being the center of his world. Making sure he got what he wanted and needed out of life would be simple!
Herself on the other hand, well, this was going to take some management. Something to occupy her mind so she’d think about anything other than Archimedes when he wasn’t around! Sincerely wishing to expel her restless energy with someone that was going to be thrilled to roll around with her.
So Calia tried – genuinely so. Cruising through the Hog Wolly in such a way that was casual and biding her time with it. In some ways it was freeing to walk about as herself, no glamours, no secret identity. If it were known she were of royal blood, it truly didn’t matter here in this gathering of clans. She played some of the smaller games and flirted with the vendors there, showing off a bit of axe throwing and archery and laughing with them on how the target dummies themselves were made to be silly representations of the locals.
She stopped for lunch at a big local tent smoking whole hogs over pits and serving up strong ale out of barrels. Joining in on a dance or two swirling about with kilted folk to the beat of drums and the cringing wails of bagpipes. There was no trouble at all catching the eyes of strangers, for even Calia knew she was a beautiful woman and despite her surly attitude, when she was having a good time it bled outwards into bright laughter and gentle flirting of her own.
There was no question that she still found attraction in others, either, proven well enough hanging out where a wood chopping competition had gathered a large crowd of appreciative spectators. Didn’t matter if bare torsos were covered in hair or bare and glistening with sweat. Whether it was a man in a knee high kilt or a woman with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. There was nothing more attractive than a muscled someone hard at work! At least Calia knew she wasn’t broken in such a way she couldn’t still enjoy a handsome figure!
Still, no matter who she talked to, or how much she flirted, no one really ignited that spark of interest. To the point that truly, Arc was right all along and she was letting her expectations talk her out of what should be as simple as grabbing the first interested party and disappearing behind a tent.
At this rate she might as well get drunk at the tavern and see who she tumbles off with!
It was truly a very, very simple feat for him when he decided that his attention merely needed to be on that of the moment. But he was not without his own whims and well, he was hardly one to be considered structured!
Of course he made his way around the Hog Wolly with interest and boredom depending on what was happening around while his intent had been to check out suitable places for where one might hide so not another soul could locate easily. And it was amidst one of his intentions of flirting with some willowy bend of a auburn haired woman that he made a sly sneak away. Knowing that the tether itself would absolutely tell of some stretching when one such as himself had slipped away into one of his magical schemes of portaling!
Not terribly long as it. Just long enough that when he had made sure of a return to the deep mountains, it was hardly alone. Though he gave the additional soul a prompt run down and well, they were effortlessly eager to join in on the new fun. Hardly paying any heed to him outside of a gentle acceptance of knowing one had to be mindful of how they came to be present at all!
And their mission was simple. To find that of the young dark haired maiden amongst the group of many! Naturally getting distracted by the feats of various strengths that it was probably a good thing that there was no telling time limit to how long one could spend here.
It took time and plenty of said distractions before well, one was plenty able to locate the very soul that had been on the priority list. Spurring body to spring into action, trotting excitedly across the way till they were certain that their gaze had been suitably set on the right person before springing to latch limbs up and around mid section, white hair fluttering before features with a delighted, “Peekaboo, I found yah, Calia!” Declared the little biscuit of a treat brought by the demon!
Calia worked her evening plan around in her head on how she was best going to get out of her head and into someone’s bed instead. Trotting around the Hog Wolly was all good fun, she just clearly needed to be dimwittedly drunk to the point that she didn’t over think everything. A bit like she was doing right then, pausing in the middle of the meadow fair like some sort of idiot.
She wasn’t prepared for someone to throw their entire body at her – assuming the small stature meant it was one of those orcling children coming to seek vengeance upon a thieving chief! Immediately setting herself to grappling the little beast around the waist with full intentions of launching them into the nearest hay bale for the sheer fun of it.
Instead she’d found herself lifting up some petite, slender little thing with moonbeam hair and such a recognizable lit that she couldn’t help but let out a ridiculous laughing cackle and spinning the girl right off her feet.
“What are you doing all the way out here! I nearly threw you into your future husband!”
Had she been thrown into the nearest hay bale, it would have just been a new adventure for having been swept away by a particular demon that had come to find her in Tir Elas! Hardly something she would have been offended by, if anything, she might have asked to be thrown a few more times just for the lark of it! Knowing well enough that the incident would have been her own fault the first time and any other would have simply been an enjoyment spurred on by simple fun!
Although the whole being swung around like she was no more than a kite ready for takeoff, golden rings beamed in delight. Hardly bothered to outstretch arms in that free spin while the cackle of the other certainly booned well to declare that the surprise of things had worked out perfectly well.
“Oh please do! I ain’t ever seen such an arrangement of muscle on men and lass alike! Whatever yer pick be, let’s see if yah throw true!” Nova fluttered hands a few times, something between suggesting she be put on the ground and something between seeing if she might actually fly for a short moment or two!
Only when feet were suitably on the ground and she grappled a hand around Calia’s wrist to keep her balance, did she throw up her best brightened grin. Tipping only a little, “Arc went and fetched me. Expressed in his way that yah were needin’ someone about that was better at the whole, throw one self into the moment. Or somethin’ like that, to be fair the moment he said he’d whisk me miles and miles away to yah, I stopped listenin’!” Bouncing upon the balls of her feet, she dared to throw her own head into looking around. “What a mighty good thin’ I didn’t think of listenin’! I ain’t known a mountain top to have such an arrangement of mighty souls!”
It was revealed upon setting the moonbeam elf down right and proper on her own two feet that apparently Archimedes was in the business of straight up kidnapping a woman to be Calia’s companion. Unsure if she should be insulted that he seemed to think she needed help in her hunting endeavors, or falling all the deeper into nonsense feelings because he’d brought her the one other person in the world she had gentle feelings for.
Damn him, she was trying not to think about him!
“I am just going to ignore the fact he’s snatched you up out of your life and simply be glad you’re here,” confessed Calia, immediately adjusting the girl’s grasp on her wrist to shift to tightly squeeze her hand instead. Launching into an excited guiding over to one of the rickety stick booths to make sure Nova got to have a little taste of mountain treats in the form of a fried mulberry pie.
“Beyond that, if you did decide to go tripping over the next love of your life, you are most surely spoiled for choice out here in the highlands. They make it more than easy to do the choosing just with the right wrappings and a strong breeze.” Calia gladly pointed out the hows and whys when it came to tall, burly figures in short kilts, whether they be wearing a tunic or not. In various states of hairy, from the bearded bear of a man to ones sporting naught but sun kissed skin and freckles. Spoiled for choice indeed and Calia wanted not a one of them!
Nova’s appearance was auspicious indeed for now she didn’t have to worry about it at all. Far more interesting in getting to give the girl a festival tour herself this time of local color and culture.
“Now what do you think I can talk you into? Joining the sheep run? Climbing trees? Dunking fine looking men into water barrels, or dancing until the stars come out?”
It wasn’t clear what Arc had or hadn’t said to the spritely pointed ear maiden of the sea. Nor did she seem inclined to even pitch an vocal thought to it, far too content to be swept immediately into a morsel of fried food. Hardly one to say she wouldn’t divulge but rather the sort that might have request to have three helpings even if she didn’t need it.
Letting sights migrated freely to anything, everything and anyone. Tilting her head certainly more than once when someone wandered by with a square bit of patterned dressing that she wondered if the colours were dazzling or purpose. Helping herself to stuffing cheeks full whilst the whole arrangement or suggestion of having a platter of sorts for her discovery of whether or not that love of her life were present or not.
She’d hardly voice a complaint if they were or not! “Ain’t seen such an arrangement of round ears before and I thought I’d seen plenty at the mouth of the ocean.” Nova chuckled between bitefuls, letting focus shift just barely to the red foliage of autumn all around them. “Yah might have to educate me on the difference between the furry ones and the smooth ones.” She giggling teasingly as hands were clapped free of any crumbly remains, tipping focus to the dark haired woman with brightened delight.
“Please, yah know yah don’t have to talk me into anythin’ cause I’m here for it all! Yah think we could dunk the fella’s and then replace them sheep with them instead?” Asking a little more sincerely than she probably ought too, “Then make them fight to see whom is valiant enough to be the victors of two bashful lyin’ maidens?” Extending a finger to indicate they were said bashful lying maidens. “Of course, promptly abandonin’ them for a witchy call at the moon.” She turned fully to face the taller woman, “So how come yah made it this far and yer not havin’ the entire lot crawlin’ on their hands and knees for yer entertainment, m’love?”
Calia herself was thinking she ought to have given the girl several with just how fast that fried pie disappeared, she doubted they’d even gotten three paces before she had to glance over her shoulder and debate going back for more. Luckily, there was an entire Hog Wolly’s worth of tasty treats around every corner and Calia was more than happy to spend the coin to let Nova have a taste of everything.
Finding herself to such a quick grin at the exclamation about all of the round-eared folks, recognizing the feeling very well herself for Calia had felt the very same way the first time she laid eyes on an elven village. She’d not even had the chance to grow up in a place that had a trade port to see a wide variety of peoples, so it truly was a marvel staring up at trees as tall as mountains while surrounded by pointy eared folk with dainty faces. Unable to stop herself from laughing about furry manfolk, as some really did border on it when they were covered with such thick patches!
“You know, I don’t think we need to even trick them into running around wet and wicked, there is plenty of that on their own,” she answered with another laugh. Honestly, all they need do was walk far enough to one of the events, Calia could bet there was mud wrestling around here somewhere if not some full on silly relay race!
Of course soon those eyes were zeroing in on Calia herself, suspiciously so considering the circumstances of Nova’s snatching. Setting her to paint on a fox-mischief smile and give a slight shrug of her shoulder.
“Whose says I am not fully entertained already? Mayhaps I been spoiled by the company of pretty elves and nothing else can compare.”
“Well that kinda takes half the mystique out of it if we don’t gotta lure them into it.” She countered with the whole of her body leaning into the means that it wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable if it was already done. Or there wasn’t some mischief behind it. Not that it entirely sidelined her either for there was some thought and wondered how she might make use of the ploy at all.
That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t giving the mountain woman a stronger look about the whole means that she wasn’t having to fend off a gaggle of thirsty folk because she was beaming confident and an aloofiness that made other’s wiggle for just a bare glance their way.
“Oh I bet yah be entertained but not the way I’m picturin’ in my head.” Tapping temple for effect, “And I doubt yah really be swayin’ to the elven lot otherwise why would yah ever leave Edelguard when yah could swin’ a cat by their tail and hit twenty at least.”
Happily however she aligned herself with the mystical miss to loop arm through her own. Stretching to stand as tall as she could at her petite height and indicate with a bob of head that Calia best take them to be eyeball deep in an event of some sort. “I’d be sayin’ that there could be a new rain of marshmallows had not a certain someone given me the warnin’ that such thin’s best not happen. But he ain’t said nothin’ about makin’ sure that the eve is so busy potentially drownin’ in ale till our eyeballs are pickled. Now, are we about to stand here makin’ lip flappin’ the next event or are yah gonna start havin’ some proper fun with yer newest little wing lady whilst bein’ sure to fill me in about yer latest escapades? It ain’t terribly often that yah have favour with a whiskin’ sort that ensures our little duo of trouble can be united once more.”
“And what a lucky dame am I to have so many seemingly imagining me in filthy escapes,” she laughed. Perhaps everyone was tiring her out so much in their imaginations, there was nothing left in the real her to be interested anymore! What an amusing thought that was!
One had to hand it to Archimedes, though. He’d known exactly the perfect thing to draw Calia out of her head, out of her flurry of intense thoughts back into the present where she could gladly exist for a little while without worrying so much about what she wasn’t getting. Nova had a way of slowing the entire world down to a pace that was manageable. With just enough mischief in her that as Calia took her around the festival to enjoy all of the sights, she spoke easily about what she and Archimedes had gotten into without fearing she’d startle or scandalize the girl.
While sampling spun sugar and honeyed ale, watching to see which mountain man could climb up and down a log the fastest, Calia told her the full story of Fawna, both the part in Tir Elas and her attempt of entrapment after. The rescue of an elder fae and how Fawna’s had tore such a wound in Archimedes that Calia was still worried about it’s after effects even now.
They had the absolute blessing of getting to sit through an entire wet tunic contest, drinking mulberry mead and failing to take anything serious about it at all. Where Calia got to lament her disappointment over having a chance to meet an ancient drake in the form of Cragjaw, that he’d broken her heart not just in her admiration for a creature of magic but twice when he’d chomped the life right out of Archimedes. How she planned to one day go back and rip out his teeth when she too was ancient and powerful.
Much to Calia’s delight there was plenty to show Nova in the form of adorable fuzzy animals, from long necked llamas to fluffy sheep. Best of all were the gorgeous horses with their shaggy, almost fluffy coats ready to take on the winter’s frost. They were able to feed them sweet grass and Calia was able to tell the story of The Court of Vines and Argentina’s grand appearance and demise.
God’s above, with every story it was quite clear she and the demon had lived a lifetime just in the few short months since being in Tir Elas! From he time healing in his tower both mentally and physically. Traveling under the mountains through the tunnels to discovering lake caverns that glimmered and glowed to sounds, and discovering ancient abandoned cities, with very much alive black market undergrounds. Demons interrupting one of their rare moments of peace, to Calia getting in too deep with an elder demon. They’d run the gambit of the whole Hog Wolly for her to get through it all, stopping at every stall of food, taking a drink from every cart. Laughing at the nonsense of mountain shenanigans, and talking more than she ever really talked to anyone.
That was the blessing of Nova, she made it as easy to talk as she made it easy to exist.
There was plenty time yet for mischief, magical or not, for the end of the evening had to be spent at the tavern sitting at one of the outside tables under the starlight and listening to bards play a rowdy set of music. With a whole pitcher of ale and Calia whispering into Nova’s ear that she’d gotten herself and Arc thrown out of a bar because she’d set the furniture to life, to which she’d be delighted to give an example but didn’t want Nova banned from the whole of the mountains!
To hear it all and to be in immense awe paired with perfectly timed worried horror for both the two that she considered precious friends –being sure to declare that loudly more than once for Calia’s ears, paired with a threat that maybe she ought to figure out a way to shrink both girl and demon down to mere dolls so they could be swept away back to Tir Elas and kept safely within her abode.
Of course the thought was just that, but it very well could be a threat depending on how she looked at the ignited woman.
Now with plenty of tales and experiences from one days tucked neatly under that of her belt, holding onto that of her glass of drink –she honestly couldn’t taste the difference from one to another at this point but was managing not to be so terribly drunk that her nose was in the earth- eyes were watching that of the bards currently playing loudly for those who didn’t know if they were swinging their arm or leg or someone else’s entirely.
Supping pleasantly on the ale with pinked cheeks, “Let’s keep that in reserve aye?” She asked instead to the idea of lighting furniture on fire, “Yah know, for a tavern that doesn’t keep our tankards full and has an arrangement of mule faces lads.” Brows flickered and she took that fleeting second to consider Calia earnestly. Repeating the tales told and of course as a friend, worry returned.
The two of them had been through literal life and death! But it sounded as though they had come out from their scuffles, better! Whole and less roughed by the other’s personality; granted she couldn’t say much because tellingly, Arc had not made an appearance in their Hog Wolly travels. Although she thought she seen him once or twice but the second look had appeared to be a lie. Granted knowing him, he was likely well eye ball deep in someone’s bosom, or was trying too. While trying not to take notice of a fierce icy eyed man that was currently not terribly far away that had been using said eyes to study the two of them, though tellingly more that of Calia than herself.
Dark brown hair hung heavy around his crown but held at bay with a banding of some sort of leather to keep it back, Nova raised her glass once more, “Yah best have yer best wink handy, m’love. Yah be the treat in that there fella’s eyes,” Her golden rings glittered playfully, “This seems like the perfect event for yah to have managed to stumble across, yah know. And one begs the question, what does a lady and a fallen elf do after this point? For conversation sake, as I haven’t yet found the one who makes my stomach flutter like that of the ale in my hands.”
It took quite a bit of booze to get Calia properly knackered and even moreso still with the added boost of a demon’s stamina, but she’d finally managed to get herself pleasantly there with enough hard liquor and day’s worth of wonderful company. Her head propped up with hand, as she grinned away at her moonbeam companion, whose wisely turned down the menacing of this innocent tavern,
She followed that of Nova’s gesture towards whomever seemed to catch her attention, giving him not more than an up and down glance and a further widening smile before once again her focus was fully on the elf next to her. Finally drunk enough she didn’t give a damn who she cast beaming smiles at or flirty looks, certain she was finally out of her head enough to tumble into bed with the first bloke that actual caught her fancy–
–if she weren’t far more interested teasing the girl who was giving her far too many worried looks. One who, if she’d been six feet tall and built like an orc, Calia probably would’ve married right there at the Hog Wolly and lived a glorious life with or without her heart. Alas, Nova might’ve been the ideal companion during the day, but she was missing the bits and pieces that’d make for truly stunning evenings!
“I seem to have a habit of falling into the right places at the right times. …or the wrongs times. Actually, I am constantly just falling constantly, good and bad in every which way. I suppose once you’re seen safely back to the coast where you belong, we’ll be off deeper into the highlands. It’ll be less jolly fun, more sheep and rocks. So if you do find yourself taking a shining to someone last minute, best point him out, I can bonk him over the skull and drag him back for you.”
There was no pause or hesitation to giggle at Calia’s obviousness of being a little deeper in the drink than she originally thought. Bemused certainly and wondering just what sort of influenced shenanigans she personally could encourage, for light mischief. Nothing so extreme as lighting the bar on fire, which it just meant Calia needed someone a little more responsible to navigate her intrusive impulses. Right now, maybe she could just encourage a few things. Mild things.
Nothing with magic.
“Oh nonsense, if we find the one that I wanna charm into being a little home husband,” She set her drink down and shimmied just right to make sure she was all petite bosom and pouty lips. “Just gotta have the right look.” She giggled again quickly dropping the act so she might cast the eyes that were busy sizing up the moment another obvious look. Assessing quietly but attentively.
“Now if yer feelin’ plucky at all m’love,” She dared to openly point at tall, dark and brooding. Seeing a twitch to lip that said he was hardly about to suddenly develop an embarrassed look away. “Can yah fall into another’s arms and show this little sea wisp how one makes passes at those who come carved from the mountains. I gotta see if yer all talk or if yah actually know how to woo someone into yer graces and wake up with a head of hair all wild.”
“Ah, yes, the right look,” Calia agreed, mimicking just slightly the way Nova had shifted into a pretty little position. Only on Calia, it came off a lot less sweet alluring lass and more like a wily fox about to leap on it’s dinner. Mischief and mayhem was surely on the forefront of her mind, a little light trouble and delightful whimsy to gift a girl who surely deserved all the joy and whimsy in life!
…although, immediately reaching out to place her hand over Nova’s wrist to lower that pointing finger. Goods gods, she was going to give some highlander the wrong idea and end up kidnapped to the hills! As much a good bar brawl would be entertaining, Nova didn’t need to get mixed up in all that and absconded with as soon as Calia’s back was turned!
She laughed, though, bright and amused.
“I sincerely doubt you’d have any trouble at all making passes at anyone, a flutter of the eyes is universal across all the realms,” she pointed out, not about to be fooled by Nova’s play. The moonbeam elf was not nearly as innocent as she seemed on the surface!
“But if you’re handing out challenges, I might as well oblige to be entertaining!” This was all pure nonsense and she knew it, didn’t stop Calia from rising from her chair, reaching out for her drink swallow the rest in a few swift gulps. Finding herself a little too easily influenced by a friend for… well, it was the first time doing such things with a lady friend, wasn’t it! Getting into ridiculous shenanigans and later, most likely getting themselves out of trouble!
Her walk was smooth and slow, on the surface seeming like someone casual or attempting to be gracefully attractive, but the truth of it was that Calia was just a little too tipsy and was trying to make sure she didn’t crack her shin on a table or tilt and weave. She ran through potential approaches in quick succession – a kiss out of nowhere would be hilarious good fun and very Calia if Calia actually wanted to drag the guy off. There were plenty of sly lines if she wanted to be coy and hint at things – or she could be blunt and just ask if he’d want to sleep with her.
By the time she got there, nothing really stood out. She merely leaned herself against a wooden column giving the stranger an examining up and down with fir green eyes and crossed her arms.
“You know when you stare like that, one doesn’t know if you’re interested in kissing or in stabbing.”
“Naw,” She shook her head, “It might be universal but,” Again that finger was lifted up but this time in pointed to them both, “One’s gotta know the language of the lands they be in. Or in this case, the language of proper flirtin’! I could be all sweet and soft but here, I think I need to know how one is bold and brave!” Was this a challenge, absolutely. As well as a learning experience because now that she knew that Arc could open doors from leagues away to whisk someone off, she was absolutely going to make utter use of it.
Even spoken clearly to the demon that had come to find her, declaring that he had made a problem for himself. Where he merely grinned that sideways beam that spoke that he was hardly about to be upset about being asked for such things. Granted he said he had to remember how to make a ward stone on how to communicate from large distance so she could manage the asking of being taken to all sorts of lands and returned home at the evening!
But that was tucked away to herself and putting her best innocent look to Calia as if she hadn’t just been looped into actually going to talk to some pretty tall man that was all muscle and smoulder. Even just to shake the dust off the girl’s boots!
“Yes, best be entertainin’ the wee elven lass. I must take notes and be ready to try my hand at this after.” She was slightly lying, slightly intrigued. Well aware of Calia’s former mention that a flutter of lashes was universal and she knew well enough that the looks had come plenty this evening. It wouldn’t be hard, elves clearly weren’t that common currently.
For now, she was the willing audience. Tucking chin into the palm of hand so she might be astute in observing this bout of drunken wits. Where one took notice of how the fellow that had been observing them like some sort of priceless painting in a private collection, had his focus settled rightly on the equally tall, dark and tipsy lady of the strong mountain.
He, on the other hand, offered only a slow quirk of his lips—just the faintest lift at the corner—while the cool rings of frost lingered lazily around the woman who had finally come to see what all the commotion was about. His gaze lingered with quiet amusement, unhurried and knowing.
“Is that so?” he murmured, the low timbre of his voice sliding out smooth as velvet. “Well… if this were a brawl, you could be certain a stabbing might be fitting.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting with a playful, dangerous warmth. “But in this case,” he continued softly, his tone dipping just enough to tease, “I think kissing would be far more appropriate… don’t you?”
Calia couldn’t help but think that she might’ve just been wrapped around Nova’s finger one way or the other, even casting a glance back at the girl who at least did seem entertained in this “learning” experience. If she didn’t know any better she’d have thought Nova much preferred making matches and watching others fall into romantic scandals than getting into any herself.
Eyes went back to her current company, glad to find he was quick enough of wit to form a reply that wasn’t stuttering dimwittedness, nor something that’d make her cringe roll her eyes and immediately walk away. As Nova had described him, he did appear to be the dark and broody sort, though his eyes had that crystal clear brightness that reminded her of a mountain glacier. She didn’t speak immediately, perusing him carefully with that same nitpicking she’d been doing about every male form she had all day… only to gratefully find that she didn’t much care anymore about could bes, might bes and consequences to find anything wrong with him.
“If that’s what’s most appropriate, then,” she agreed, taking the initiative to lean in and close the distance to press a kiss, as bold and shameless as she ever was. Practically grinning through it like some cheshire cat when it was first met with surprise and then his immediate response in turn.
Calia was reminded very quickly why such things had once upon a time been her favorite activity. It wasn’t sparky, it wasn’t perfect, but damn it all, it was good enough. To have someone very enthusiastically want to spent the time with her in every touchy, grabby, physical way possible.
She gave Nova that little ok signal with her fingers so the girl would know she was to disappear if at least for a few moments. And only for a few moments! It took longer to whisper in his ear and find a private place than it did to get half their clothes off. Fast and furious and fumbling, because if she had taken any time to think, she might’ve changed her entire mind. She’d gotten his name while refusing to give her own, made sure he was going to remember her for a long while yet even without it. Calia got what she needed and it’d surely be a lie to say she wasn’t satisfied, even if there was still that nagging voice in the back of her mind going meeeh.
Good enough. Worth it if at least to know that she could still do it! Calia had started to get concerned!
Of course she was still trying to fix her disheveled hair and clothes on her stumbling way back to seeking the moonbeam elf with the sunshine eyes. Hoping no one had run off with her, including Archimedes. Especially Archimedes. She might just start a brawl yet if someone had!
Wickedly she gave a smile that was somehow still so sweet when her gaze began to follow Calia after her impromptu kissing with the tall as oak fellow. Somewhere wishing she had made a bet with someone else because had she done it in her favour, she would have won by a landslide!
As vision followed to make sure that the two weren’t about to disappear into a dark alley or something equivalent in the Hog Wolly, was she even remotely surprised that her former thought about not seeing the demon, was pretty shortly corrected in that very moment. Well, a few moments after Calia and whomever the dark fellow was had scuttled off to talk clearly about finances and which peak did the sun crest over every morning in these here mountains; her gaze found the typically towering –falsely appearing- elf into that of Calia’s seat. Easily reaching over to the pitcher of ale to check how low it was, “And just how long were yah taggin’ about, darlin’?” Smirking at him with easily the broadest grin she could have ever mustered.
One he replicated in opposite, a sort of quiet and all the more dangerous as he glanced upwards to the night sky. “Long enough but not at the same time. What sort of gentleman would I be if I just let the two of yah go sprintin’ off wildly through the area. Or rather, flip that. I think for all of the people here, it was better I kept a vague eye on the two of yah spritely she-beasts.”
“Don’t start flirtin’ with me now, Arc. Yah had yer taste.” Playfully he snapped his jaw at her but helped himself to pour the remainder of ale into her glass. Earning an appreciative lift to appreciate his efforts. “It’s nice that yah care enough to help yer friend with apparently her flirtatious desires, kinda weird but nice.”
His azure stare settled on her, “Nova, we ain’t anythin’ like what normal friends do. I think the moment we started gettin’ along, that whole constructed idea of friends was set on fire and thrown out the nearest window. But, thank yah. I appreciate my genuine kindness being given the appropriate sort of consideration it deserves.” Those sights flickered over her, “Yah know I ain’t helpin’ yah steal some more round ear back to Tir Elas.” That got a bright laugh out of her paired with a slight pout, “Yah leave the environment the way yah found it. We don’t need yah introducin’ an potentially intrusive species into Edelguard. I may not return in my next life time but I also don’t wanna chance seeing more man leg because yah snuck home someone to play husband with.”
“Spoil sport.” Uttered with no heat in it, allowing them to have just a very easy going conversation till his ears perked in such a familiar way. Unclear if he was actually hearing something or if it was simple former habits of his past life that still existed. Regardless, she had a hard time not noticing it or how quickly he got up. Patting the table that seemed such a slide of hand to where he removed it, coin remained.
“In case yah need to pay yer tab, I ain’t helpin’ more than that.” His sights flickered the way Calia had gone, “Yah know where I’ll be if yah need anythin’, little snowbird.” Paired with a wink, she sighed softly at him. Guessing he was sensing the return of the lady of the evening and was making his quick escape as not to rouse any sort of suspicion. It was doubtful if he could mitigate that but she wouldn’t squash his attempt in trying! “Just remember what I said earlier, when yer ready to take a trot back to safe quarters, open a door that is out of the line of sight of other people.”
“Yes Arc, I remember. Now shoo, yer about to cramp ladies night with yer style.” His brow lifted in such a way that she hardly needed any subtitles to know what he was thinking. Earning a whole shooing of hands as he promptly zipped away by foot. Disappearing into the tavern and leaving her to be the little wallflower once more.
Raising her gaze to the stumbling back girl, “Well now, I hope yah left him with an impression.” She grinned devilishly.
If Calia had known she’d been effectively managed by a pair of conniving elves, one could bet she’d be fire spitting mad. The whole Hog Wolly would’ve gotten to see a screamin’ fit the likes no one had ever seen before, and not a lick of magic would’ve been needed to watch her bodily toss someone clear across the meadow. Or half the clans with it, because no one would be able to resist getting their bare kilted asses involved in a brawl!
Luckily for them all, there wasn’t an ounce of suspicion in her and now to go along with a day well spent, she’d scratched the surface of a need for physicality that added a nice little serenity on top of her tipsy ride. She was fine. In all honesty, things were better than they had been ever before. Calia was just so used to everything going horribly wrong, of course she was going to feel malcontent.
As she plopped back into her chair, resting her chin in her hands she did narrow her gaze that devilish look being given to her.
“He’s liable to be dreaming about green-eyed dames until the next Hog Wolly,” she said first. Then placed a finger on the coin laying the table to push it over to the girl. “You’re not making bets with certain absent someones, are you? He’s sure to let all the odds be your favor and you emptying all his pockets.”
While she wasn’t probably as loose as Calia and Arc ever were, she did know that sometimes one just needed to have that particular itch scratched to feel a sense of relief. And she was of no opinion of judgment, especially when the woman had clearly gotten it suitably soothed. A balm now in place and Nova absolutely being pleased that things had been orchestrated just well enough that things were calm.
By no means did that look settle, only growing when Calia was narrowing her gaze. “Good, it’s the very least he ought to be doin’. I mean everyone’s favourite part of a meal is dessert, so he best be pleased as a pig in mud that he got that first.” The motion to coin and Nova simply shrugged.
Helping herself to her refreshed drink, “I’m makin’ bets all the time, it’s one of my side hustle’s. With my perfected innocence, I win nine times outta ten.” Was she lying, likely not. Giggling no sooner and shaking her head a little, “And that win ratio is because I know them sorts won’t mind losin’ till their pockets are fully empty and realization dawns much too late.”
She picked up a coin to waggle it, “Yer not about to get all sentimental or develop some sort of sympathy if we spend said coin for a new pitcher before I see how well yah can dance when yer fully basted, now are yah, m’love?” Did she agree or deny that was the one behind the coin, not at all! And she didn’t honestly think Calia much cared to have it acknowledged anyways.
If sex was dessert then Calia was fairly certain what she was missing out on was a full pot roast meal before she had her pie, but she wasn’t about to throw that out at Nova because the thought was incredibly silly and the elf was already far too pleased with her. As she should be, she’d been whisked off for an adventure like no other and clearly didn’t mind the oddities that were Arc and Calia!
The bullshit she was hearing pretty much confirmed that Arc and Nova had at least briefly discussed Calia – but then she already knew that in the back of her mind. He’d brought her the moonbeam elf and whatever the reason it’d been a lovely gift.
“If we get another pitcher I’m not going to have any legs left for dancing, I’m going to be doing a very good impression of a river eel on the bank!” she exclaimed, slowly unfolding herself from her chair to rise back up to her feet with a bound. No about to waste the few hours she had left with a sunny friend and an afterglow high. To hell with thinking at all!
“C’mon then, if you get a highlander kicking high enough you’ll get a real good giggle out of it.”
“Oh now that is somethin’ I may wanna see!” Hardly the one to suggest that they don’t try and enact Calia’s description. Because now it seemed like something that might be perfectly privy as a personal memory between the two of them. Something to look back on and laugh till they couldn’t stand any longer because Calia absolutely acted like she was so cold and distant when in actuality, she just needed the right goading to be a sunshiney little dot.
Not that she was about to say that… yet.
Give it time.
For now she gulped down a good mouthful of her drink before setting it back to the table. Springing up to that of feet –never mind half a wobble- that promptly her launching over to intertwine their arms to act as counterweights to another. Poor ones, she was certainly far too small against Calia and well if she got slingshotted into the heavens, so be it! Add it to the list of unlikely but hilarious things that occurred at all.
Gasping no sooner, bracing the free hand to her face at the poorly veiled secret, not secret about a highlander exposing what laid below that of the fabric of their chosen clothing. “Do they not wear underthin’s to keep their bits in place! That sounds like a surefire way to ensure they be walkin’ home with a head cold.” Laughing at her own terrible joke, “Thin’s gotta be all saggy and droopy with no cuppin’ protection!”
Of course she was thrashing her hand forward, “Well come on now, yah can’t start sayin’ such thin’s and we aren’t runnin’ sideways over to see such a show! Plus, well I think I gotta figure out a way yet to smuggle a highlander home still!”
Of course the wee minx would want to see Calia so sauced she’d be rolling and flopping on the floor like an eel! Cackling her little head off with a tale to retell until the end of days! More stories for her to share at that tavern back in Tir Elas about a strange princess and her even stranger habits. Seemingly forgetting that Nova herself was going to be just as tipsy as Calia and would likely end up on the ground with her.
Fully hinted at when she was clinging so quickly to her arm that they both near went sideways, only staying on stable feet because Calia had weight and instinct about her, even if her senses were slowed. Having no trouble at all laughing at the expense of highlanders in their kilts, for really the menfolk set their own selves up for such shenanigans and proudly so with the very festival they seemed to hold every three years in honor of such foolishness.
“I told you, you point the man out the second you see him and he is yours. It’s clan tradition snatchin’ one up and stealing him away, hells, you can have two of them, and no more than that as I’ve only got two arms and I don’t think I could carry off any more.” There was no way of telling if Calia meant it or not, seeing as her expression was so deadpan serious. The way she’d carried Arc on her back through the docks, though, there was no doubt she could if she was determined to.
She pulled Nova along with her where the fires were bright and the music at it’s loudest, where no one dared stand unless they wanted to get dragged off into a hop and a dance. And she was glad for it, to move and to laugh – to have that same spirit as before back in Tir Elas, only even better for there wasn’t near as much as the weight that’d bogged her down, or the insecurities squeezing inside her chest. Calia got to dance and at least celebrate a day of doing something more than tearing through the world being miserable.
“Well we can always go about settin’ up traps and then maybe we can smuggle them all back, I might need time to pick through a lot of them.” Nova cackled leaning further into the mountain girl, surely already demising a plan that had at least three or five men suitably captured for her to assess which of them where the best of the best. Liable to make her best puppy dog eyes in case Calia wasn’t on board but found it highly unlikely that the woman wouldn’t want to see what happened from such plans.
Hell, she might have a good idea of how to make a net strong enough to capture said men and how they couldn’t break out of them.
Not that she was particularly interested in lingering on the thought when they had been lured down to the mess of song and dance. Hardly being one that wasn’t happily swaying into the mess of bodies to enjoy the measure of music. Letting herself happily and freely sway with both liquor and melody that might be good or terrible, as she couldn’t rightly tell.
Keeping close to Calia to ensure at least she wasn’t whisked away accidentally from her tiny stature!
It wasn’t terribly clear to her how long they were amongst the throng of bodies –hardly caring- but her eyes did eventually spot that of the third companion that had been wistfully absent and well, she hardly had any reason to tame her reckless actions now! She’d already been swept across the continent, who cared about closing space with the other elf that managed to do a double take at all.
“If yer guna be out here, then yah better at least entertain the only other elf in presence!” She declared loudly noticing that some big titty lass looked almost stunned to see another elf. “Careful, that one is guna spill out!” Pointing to indicate one of them heavy boulders was liable to give the girl herself a black eye, or another person! Never mind how Arc’s attention naturally turned because if there was a chance for that, he was going to be a willing observer! Not that she was interested in that, reaching out to grab that of wrist and pulled insistently, “Come alon’ now devil,”
And he, merely grinned. Giving a second look to madam bodacious before easily giving up. She was already a little tipsy—cheeks warm, steps just a touch uneven—but that only made her bolder, as if she needed any sort of encouragement! The moment the music caught her she grabbed his hands and pulled him close without ceremony, grinning up at him like she’d just started something she had no intention of stopping.
Where Nova’s steps were enthusiastic and occasionally questionable, Arc’s were smooth and instinctive. He caught the rhythm easily, guiding their turns without making it obvious he was doing so. When Nova spun a little too fast or lost the beat entirely, she simply leaned into him with a laugh, grabbing his shoulder or collar to steady herself. “Yer a mess,”
“Absolutely!” Most of the time he kept a hand at her waist, steadying her as they moved through the dance. It meant she bumped into him often, sometimes on purpose, sometimes because the music had gotten ahead of her boots. Each time she did, she just laughed and stayed close, swaying back into step with him.
They danced like that among the rest of the clans—loose, playful, and easy.
Nova occasionally tried something ambitious she’d seen someone else do, which usually ended with her half stumbling into him or someone else, leaving him to apologize as she whooped and hollered, making sure that she was calling at Calia in turn! Hardly about to let her get away at all, telling one of them to spin her, she didn’t care who!
Calia might’ve been on board kidnapping men for Nova even while stone cold sober, simply for the lark of the mayhem that would’ve created. They might fight Calia over it, but the second any single one of them caught a look at the small elf with her moonshine silver hair and golden sunbeam eyes, they’d be begging to get tied up. It’d surely be an amusing change of pace compared to the rest of her life.
One could bet that it didn’t matter how sloshed she was, or how many drinks she cheekily plucked from the hands on bewildered bearded menfolk, Calia kept one eye on the dancing elf. Even when she herself was accept to accept offers of twirling around with man or lady, with a sort of stunning grace when she was two sheets to the wind! All of that natural fae elegance making even a stumble or a trip look smooth and deliberate.
Finally getting her sights on Archimedes came in a conflicting burst of feelings back to back to back. Glad to finally have eyes on him after such a long day, so please to see him for he’d brought her such a special thing. That tiny sudden twisting ache to watch Nova pull him away from a lady with the largest bazongas of the Hog Wolly, into giggling lightfooted dancing. Settling with a quiet resolve that if it were anyone, that would be a pair that’d make Calia happy to step aside for. In fact, she could take to the trees right then and let them have the night together!
Except Nova kept chirping her name and there wasn’t a chance in all the hells she was going to slink away if her presence was enjoyed and wanting. Making it Calia who did reach out to grab the elf’s hand to twirl her and spin her, to pull her into a proper dance hold to bounce themselves both around Archimedes like he was a standing Maypole.
“I fear you’ve had too much ale, you daffy chipmunk!” she declared with a ringing, sing-song laugh. In fact she followed the beat of the music to sing the rest for the pure lark of it. “She’s lost the plot, my daffy love, my silver maiden faire! Now she’s far too drunk to catch a lunk of kilted highland bears!“
A lesser person might have regretted fetching the little beam of radiance and light with how she was practically becoming all limbs and disorganized chaos. Happily whirling and swinging into him, into others, beckoning at Calia because there was no way she was about to let the ebon crowned woman get away. Liable to actually chase her with shrieking beckoning and trilling songs about something nonsensical –he’d make that stick to his memory if it did happen.
He was grateful he had thought that wisely about fetching Nova because the truth was, she had a great ability of getting Calia over whatever concerns or humps in thought that had been there. Clearly!
Now being spun around and the faeish woman was revealing that as deep in the drink as she was, she wasn’t holding onto whatever worries were usually making her a little stiff and unapproachable. Singing some god awful arrangement, “Bring me three bears!” Nova declared in reply to the song, swinging arms around Calia’s neck and whooping loudly once more. Flashing a grin that was utterly lacking any danger as he was trapped as their center piece.
“I ain’t carryin’ either one of yah, I hope yah know!” He spoke up in case they needed that fair reminder whilst obviously looking for a way to escape this ring around the Arc.
“Oh hush your jaw, ye lanky lout, I’ve plenty sense to spare! It’s not my fault the moon’s about and tangles up me hair! If bears wear kilts then let them dance, I’ll drink them all for sport— For every step a Highland prance, I’ll toast the northern court!” Nova attempted to add onto Calia’s sing song, and miraculously flashing a look to some fella with deep brown hair. Looking suddenly stunned he had been noticed at all and unsurprisingly, “There Calia! That one!”
It was his chance then to sneak out from their loop and slide to the side. Not about to get in the way if they were about to hunt down a man!
“I can carry the lot of us and a few bears,” Calia declared about the same time Nova was launching into her own sing-song version of lyrics. Stuck somewhere between trying to figure out how to carry three actual bears rather than menfolk, until her brain caught up to the words and finding herself so thoroughly impressed with Nova’s lyricism that she couldn’t help but pause and laugh.
“That is absolutely stunning– I– what–“
What a strange thing it must’ve been to watch as an outsider, to see two very drunk women having a squirrel! moment. For Nova finally had spotted someone dazzling enough to catch her eye enough to go pointing him out, and Calia whose stopped both her mouth and her thoughts in that simple second to follow.
The change instantaneous from giggling dancing dame, to huntress as she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and took both the pins out of her hair – looking more like she was about to assassinate the man rather than throw him over a shoulder.
“I’ll get him! Get a chair ready.”
Okay he might start regretting bringing the two of them together when he glanced over to the claimed That one! And seen the mountain man –a bit lithe compared to most- appear like he had seen a ghost. Seemingly aware of enough that he was now no more than a fox in a hunt and the hound that was coming was in fact, a big scary woman that very well just might throw him over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes!
Where Nova stumbled over to him with a whole series of tittering giggling, “Get ’em!” Being blathered over and over again to where another look and the claimed prize was already slipping into the crowd.
He could just let this go but he didn’t know how well it might look later –especially if the guy was claimed by some other woman and then there would be a whole new war- and he wasn’t sure if Calia had enough conscious decision left that would know right from wrong.
Hence the whole scooping Nova up over shoulder till her arse was aloft across and he was getting certainly a few pinches to his backside that was only spurring the drunk elf into a whole bit of snorting cackling, especially when he swiped at her to cease.
“Lia,” He spoke loudly with mirth radiating in his tone, “Don’t go hunting down the poor menfolk that run like spooked hares!”
Stepping sideways as her hair was already was freed and his own free hand came out to stop, “Come on acushla, let the man have a good three hour runnin’ start!”
“Acushla!” Nova cried out in screaming delight, “Acushla, how cuteeeeee!” Another bit of pinching was happening, “Oh Acushla, sweet Acushla, starshine in his eye!” Her ability to carry a tune was in fact, rather atrocious.
“What have I done,” He laughed still staring down Calia in case he actually did have to chase her and throw her up too on the opposite shoulder. Never mind that they were starting to get attention from other merry drunks, hooting and applauding their nonsense.
Calia managed to get in three steps before he called out her name, in such a mirth tone that she only barely paused to give a “Arc,” as a show that she’d heard him. Giving a wrinkle of her nose at the rest, for why shouldn’t she hunt him, the chasing was the entire best part of the whole thing! In fact she was going to do just that when a hand was in her way.
Heaving a heavy sigh at the begging to at least give the poor man a head start – well. That was fair, at least a good running start seeing she was faeishly gifted and could surely find him no matter where he ran. Ready to open her mouth and say as much, but Nova seemed to be tickled pink about Arc’s newest name for her that something in her addled brain had finally clicked that at least Nova was thoroughly sloshed, through and though!
Her hair pins came together in a single hand and with a flourish as if she were tucking them away into a pocket, off they went unseen as a tidy little slight of hand.
“Dearest moonbeam you’re so pickled, if I did catch up to him, you’d sing him deaf! Let Arc put you back into your own bed so you can dream of highlanders and their lack of underpants.”
Nails were busy scraping down that of back as if she was trying to find leverage to somehow slither entirely vertically down without potentially falling flat on her face, unbothered about the whole freedom of oogling without any control. Adding a few honks every so often when suddenly she recalled there was a butt there to be squeezing at, leaving him to have a hell of a time trying to both maintain a steady eye contact with Calia –in case she bolted around- and keeping the sloushed elf off the ground.
Having enough of a sense that if her feet touched earth, they’d somehow concoct an entire to bolt off in two different directions for the intention of playing and chasing whatever next victim was selected! “That, is because, I’m a siren clearly!” Nova perched upwards with support of pushing hands to his lower back, flailing head back so hair in a vain attempt to have the white out of her face. “He’d succumb to my sing songy charms, I swear by Isyn’s grace!”
He didn’t even want to comment about the lack of underpants, “I think there are two that ought to find their way into a bed.”
“Oooo are we sharin’?” Feet began to kick making it harder to hold onto her, “I call the left siiiiidee! Arc,” A smack was given then, “Away to that of the bed! We must clamour upon and oh oh let’s make a marshmallow bed! OH that’s a greeeeat idea, Caliaaaaa I wanna make a marshmallow beeeed!” Additional pats were given, “Mush! Muuush away piiickles!”
Allowing him to level a look at Calia that loudly said this is all your fault with clear amusement, “Yah got her smashed, I think it’s yer responsibility now to put her to bed, bunny.”
Calia wasn’t about to tell the girl her singing could wake the dead, not when she was far too amused at Archimedes struggling to hold on to her every attempt wriggle, smack, slither and kick herself into an impromptu concussion when he inevitably lost his grip. This by far had become the most entertaining part of her entire night and with the spectacle they were making, half the Hog Wolly’s entertainment as well.
Which was exactly why didn’t look even a tiny ounce of sorry when he declared they both ought to be put to bed. Simply gave th widest of fox smiles that got all the worse with Nova calling bed sides and demanding a marshmallow mattress for the way she brightened, a marshmallow bed was exactly what Nova would get with very little begging need to be involved.
“Hand her over then, bug. I shall run all the way to Tir Elas and lock her up before she pats your arse any flatter than a pancake.” She even approached arms out and ready to catch the wily elf, ready to whisk her away as if Nova herself was a wee sea princess.
Or if that wicked grin across her face meant anything at all, abscond with her for nonsense and hunting. One really couldn’t be too sure.
At first his idea of getting them both into a bed –marshmallow or not was entirely up to them and he wasn’t about to clean up that mess if it was found out in the open- but when Calia stepped up? Well the whole reference to him apparently having a flat ass was enough to get an arched brow. And seemingly the tone was enough for Nova to add in another honk with that girlish little giggling that left no room for whatever sort of blithering she might have tried to slip in-between.
“Oh… yeah, hmmm…” He stepped back thankfully without bumping him and Nova into another Hog Wolly goer, knowing that look on Calia’s face paired with the suggestion of running Nova back to Tir Elas –she probably would too and then pass out somewhere- he knew it was an exceptionally bad idea.
“Y’know, I think I’ll just handle it myself.” Two steps… three and he was slipping through the crowd surprisingly quick. Body turning when he managed five steps, turned and was making a strict beeline out of the grouping of bodies. Paired with Nova’s whooping and demands to go faster!
The poor man had accidentally fallen into more than he could handle, it seemed, so much so that Calia genuinely felt bad for all the trouble, even while she was making it worse. How could he have possibly known that pairing she and Nova together at a festival of foolishness would indeed become all manner of mayhem? Obviously, Calia cared far too much about the moonbeam elf to let it ever get so far as putting her in real trouble or danger… so it was quite the endearing thing that Archimedes was so worried about the pair of them now.
He’d probably done exactly the right thing backing away and skuttling into the crowd, sending Calia into a raucous bit of laughter at his escape to take Nova home. What did he think, that she’d try to snatch the girl back? Calia may have been quite drunk herself, but she’d not lost her mind all together!
Once she realized he had in fact fled, her laughter stopped with a surprised blink and a soft quiet oh. That was alright then, Nova might actually need to be tied down in that bed with the nonsense she was singing. Calia could take care of herself and Archimedes knew where to find her.
In a tree. She would naturally be in a tree. Already turning on a heel with that graceful swaying walk to let instinct take her where she needed to go in finding the tallest tree she could safely roost in for the night.
It was a bit surprising –between Nova’s loud calling and hooting, encouraging people as they passed to do much the same, if not make one or two calls about their arrangement of appearance- that Calia hadn’t decided to give chase. He honestly expected to have to run from the mountain lion of a huntress in the means to keep her and Nova from potentially going off and turning the nearest building into a candy house!
Once he realized that Calia wasn’t dogging after him with the intention of stealing her little elf back so they could go and create drunken mayhem with a few stolen men for their own bouts of wicked fun, he was both relieved and amused. Not that Nova seemed entirely aware because she was currently trying her best to cat call some hairy ass looking due that might as well have been a were-bear in a skirt. Saying something about said hair and he could only guess she was making a very failed attempt to wink with one eye.
It was comical honestly and he could only hope that come the AM that Nova was both nursing a strong hangover with Calia, but the two of them would share their recalled endeavours with delight and fun.
What likely wasn’t expected was –once he found a safe space to do that whole realm hoping- that Nova was successfully deposited inside the etherion. Now much to probably Lord Button’s and Avia’s horror because the second the girl was set on her feet –slumping into the nearest wall- and seeing that dumb cat’s eyes in two different directions, boy she tried to crawl after him with her psspspsps and failing as the fat sack of cushion scooted away! Exactly inviting the drunken elf to crawl on her hands and knees after and he sort of just accepted she’d pass out in a corner soon enough. Which would be a hell of a lot easier to get her into a bed not of marshmallow and he’d not have to worry about her running through the Etherion like some goblin of hell!
All he could hope for was the appreciation that he had done something hopefully nice by getting the two mortal demonesses together for their fun. And mentally make a note that might be it being a hell of a lot easier for Calia to have Nova around than himself.
He just hoped said mortal demoness passed out sooner than later!
Calia would’ve loved to see Nova cat-calling cushion cats drunk on her ass, alas the tower was the last place she’d have expected him to take the moonbeam elf! Far too certain that he’d take her all the way home where she safely belonged and wouldn’t accidentally fall herself into any real trouble.
As for herself, she weaved and wobbled herself through the crowd, letting those feelings of joy, exuberant excitement – all those intense strong sensations carry her mood far away from the smaller niggling ones of doubt and insecurity. They held no grip over her tonight, had no power to harm her or bring her down into the trenches of her morose despair. Somehow she’d accomplished something great by way of her royal title. Spent an entire day with someone that made the world feel worth saving. Could still catch a beau if she really wanted to, even if her feelings were wrapped up with another.
…Archimedes had not helped that part in the slightest today. It’d be a lot easier to not to love him if he were being a huge pain in her ass. Then again, would she had even ended up like this at all had things not changed somewhere along the way!
She wasn’t going to think about it. Unspoken things didn’t need thought. It was taking all of her focus anyway in attempting to climb a tree without falling right back out of it – not nearly as easy drunk as it was when she was sober, and she was drunker than she’d been the last time she had to climb a tree, that was for damned sure!
Once she climbed a good bit high enough, it suddenly dawned on her that she didn’t have to go climbing trees the stupid way when one could shift their shape. With a glimmer she slinked into the mist, disappearing and reforming into the snowy white ermine. Finding it much easier to scrabble and climb into she found a wonderful hollow inside of the tree that was the perfect size for a weaselly fae. Curling into a warm tight little ball so she could get some sleep.
Thank goodness she had left for the trees before changing shape, for a drunk ermine loose in the Hog Wolly would’ve truly been a nightmare for all in a far different way!