Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-10-11 00:10:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
Won't you lend a hand to pull me through? 'Cause me and you've got some things we need to see to...
Who: Ari & Aspel
What: A really failtastic vacation
Where:In a village far, far away...
When: Friday-Monday
Rating: PG-13 (for a variety of reasons tbh)
Status: Complete
“This,” Ari said, as she bent to put her head between her knees, “is ridiculous. I think I am a better pilot.” Which wasn’t entirely fair, perhaps, considering she had never had to fly through what appeared to be a really spectacular thunderstorm, but really. The ship was lurching and shaking and she had nearly fallen off the bed in their cabin (which was, fortunately, bolted to the floor) not five minutes ago. One would think this blasted vessel was sailing on water, not air. She’d never been airsrick in her life prior to this moment. If Aspel were honest, she was quite surprised she wasn’t sick; this easily had to be the worst airship ride she’d been on in her entire history. However, there were some small miracles to be thankful for today, as soon they would be landing. “I believe a half drunk chocobo may be a better pilot.” The smith couldn’t help but add with a bit of disdain to her voice as the ship jerked around a bit more, shaking her in the place she had been attempting to reside. “At least soon, we shall land and we can certainly put this behind us. The walk to the bed and breakfast shall be short.” Or at least, that was what she’d been told. Though admittedly, Aspel had also been told this half doped monkey of a captain knew how to fly an airship too, and look how that had worked out. It was about blasted time they were able to hole up in this damned bed and breakfast without having to worry about someone being sick, injured, drunk, or otherwise occupied. Admittedly, the morning, and day thus far hadn’t been a complete waste of time either. The scenery around the area was nice enough, and the people friendly… Welcoming even. The area was small enough not to see high traffic but still had a few interesting attractions to assure one would not be bored. Well, as long as they enjoyed this sort of thing, or perhaps had a few other plans in sight as well. With the day mostly done, that of course lead them to those ‘other plans’, and while Aspel was more than ready to deliver on them, she’d be lying to say there wasn’t the faintest hint of nervousness in the put of her gut. Regardless of herself, Aspel shut the door behind them - allowing Ari to walk in ahead of herself, and not thinking to lock it as she was still a bit weary from their travels the day before. Though, there was no time like the present… And Ari had looked rather miraculous all day. It would be a terrible pity to let such hard work and preparation fall to the wayside without being….. Properly appreciated. With that, Aspel moved forward, a hand snaking around the other woman’s waist, and pulling Ari’s hair from her neck, a soft kiss was placed against the side of it. “I believe I may have considered a particular type of entertainment this eve.” A brief pause as a kiss was placed at juncture of shoulder and neck, a soft scraping of teeth following. “If you may be so kind as to humor such.” Figuring out how to explain the brand could come after they had started. When the hand came around her waist and Aspel’s lips made contact with her neck, Ari smiled and leaned back against the other woman without hesitation. She had, in fact, been wondering if something of this sort wasn’t the entire purpose for the trip they were taking. A bit of a production, to go out of town, but… well, she was never opposed to a change of scenery, after all, and on the bright side, that damnable rug wasn’t here to distress her, either, so wasn’t it just about perfect? They were even both perfectly sober, so there was no room whatsoever for misunderstandings (or falling asleep -- it was early enough in the evening that this didn’t seem to be a likely eventuality either). Not that she could let an opportunity to jest -- lightly, lest Aspel be dissuaded -- pass her by. “Oh my,” she said as she turned her body so that they might face each other, her hands settling at Aspel’s waist as she stepped closer to bring their bodies into full contact, “and what sort of entertainment could you possibly be thinking of? Though I suppose…” She leaned in to steal a soft kiss, “I can think of a thing or two. Or fifty.” She wetted her lips and added, in a low voice, “I have been stocking up.” She had ideas to last far past the end of the evening, she was certain. Perhaps she’d even get the opportunity to leave that mark she’d promised (and chosen where to place) all those weeks ago… “Mm.” As Ari turned, Aspel allowed her hand to simply flow over the other woman’s body as she turned, and finally would allow her own hand to rest at the bard’s hip. The smirk was clear on her lips as the smith leaned in to meet Ari for a kiss. “Only fifty?” A light chuckle came easily. “A pity. I had prayed for at least twice that. I suspect my prayers have gone unanswered, no?” Shifting, the hand at Ari’s hip gripped firmly, tugging the other woman closer, and another kiss was sought, this one deeper, more intense. A clear intent for letting this go as far as wished for being the aim of this eve could easily be grasped, as the smith’s other free hand began to wander Ari’s body, attempting to provoke and entice. Slow yet steady surely, would be the best way to take this. They’d waited so long at this point, what was waiting a little longer if it’d allow for everything to be that much more enjoyed? And it would seem that things would carry on in just precisely that manner as they both continued an easy exploration. That was, at least, until a hard knock half shook the bedroom door. “Mm, ignore it.” Aspel muttered between a heated kiss, a hand dipping lower and fingers teasingly gliding over Ari’s inner thigh. A low moan was earned from another touch, and the slamming knocks of the person on the other side of the door shook the frame again. There was a low, slightly frustrated growl at the noise, but Aspel was far too invested in their current activities to have much concern for such a thing. Well, that was until the third knock smacked against the door, and it went flying open. The almost elderly, grandmotherly looking woman who owned the bed and breakfast stood cheerily smiling in the doorway. “Oh dears, I’m sorry to interrupt, but game night’s about to start and I’d hate to have you two left out of all the fun!” If the old woman didn’t notice what she’d just walked in on at first, or if she just didn’t care, Aspel hadn’t the foggiest, but dear Faram was this awkward. Clearing her throat, Aspel attempted to shift, to keep her back to the woman and attempting to keep Ari in front of her so that the elderly woman’s view would be blocked from any bits of indecency they may have managed. “I believe we may be…” A clearing of her throat bought a second to think. “a bit indisposed of tonight, my apologies.” Hopefully, that would be enough to clear this mess up. “Oh don’t be a fool deary, everyone can play board games! It’ll be great fun. We’d be miserable without everyone there. You two should come play.” And still, the woman stayed in the doorway, clearly not willing to budge an inch until they agreed. Sighing, Aspel looked down at Ari, frustrated, yet defeated by the pushiness of the grandmotherly figure standing just a few feet behind them. “It appears we shall be playing board games this eve, no?” Blast all. The night before had gone terribly awry. Between the interruption, the pushiness of the older lady who owned the damnable bed and breakfast, and then the ‘social obligation’ of humoring their rather demanding host, there had been nothing to do but stay up playing board games half the night until there was neither time nor energy to engage in the preferred form of entertainment. Why in all of Faram’s holy wisdom had she chosen to rent this place again? Oh right, someone had said it’d be a good idea. Well, that was the last time she listened to anyone else who claimed to have a ‘good idea’ for her blasted vacation. Though, they did need to get out for the day, and perhaps being away from this damnable grandmother of a woman would put Aspel in far better spirits. While - she hoped - they wouldn’t need to stay out all day, and most likely could use the bed this evening for the purpose the smith had wished it for, that still meant that they would be required to make it to the evening. That thought held its own frustration, but Aspel still managed to bite her tongue enough to let sleeping dogs lie in some ways. For now though, there hand been word of a rather pleasant gathering near the outskirts that was supposed to be going on. Some special occurrence or another, and without much thought Aspel had suggested they go take a look. Perhaps, it would be worthy of their time, and a way to get through the hours until the eve. Thusly, a period of prep would be needed in the room before venturing off and while Ari was taking care of herself, Aspel had moved to begin lacing her boots. That was, of course, until a series of screams shattered the calmness the village normally seemed to reside in. “Blast.” Came the curse from Aspel’s lips, as fingers finished tying off the laces quickly, and she stood, moving to the window to view what had caused the sudden outcries. “Faram.” The single word of reverence was half whispered as splotches of red could be viewed even from where she stood in the distance as a Behemoth roared. “Ari, I pray you have brought appropriate gear for combat as I fear we soon shall have a fight upon our hands.” With that, Aspel hurriedly began to gear up with what she had brought. It would not be full plate, but the breastplate, and bits of other armor would have to do. At the very least, she had brought her good sword. Snatching it up and strapping the weapon to her waist, a sprint would be had out the door and towards danger as quickly as her legs would carry her. Thankfully without the weight of her full suit of armor this was much better than normal. There was no way this town could survive an attack from a Behemoth alone, and it was so far out that Aspel would put good gil on the fact that no Ranger sweep would even find this place until the Behemoth had mauled them all and left nothing but broken corpses in its wake. Yet, the edge of the town where the strange, harmless creatures gathering had been so brutally ended by people attempting to push the beast back into the wild, and failing quite miserably as it cleaved a man with a single sweep of a claw as they arrived. “Faram.” Came that same half whispered vow as eyes swept quickly across the farmers and other non-trained combatants that had attempted to enter the fray with pitchforks, shovels and whatever else they could manage to grab before running out in hopes to help. There was only one thing to do, and that was to attempt to assure that as little harm as possible was inflicted upon them in what was sure to be one of the most challenging fights of Aspel’s life. With that in mind, a series of provocations would be uttered, Aspel attempting to make herself the Behemoth’s sole target upon the field, and really, she did host the greatest threat to the creature in that time. However, even with the years of Sentinel training behind her, and Aspel’s ability to endure obscene amounts of punishment adding to this, round by round, more people seemed to fall or be forced back. They couldn’t keep up like this. This tactic, really, was only delaying the inevitable death of them all as the Behemoth’s mighty blows continued to maul without remorse. “Ari, my apologies.” Aspel called back, blood trickling down her arm from a blow she’d blocked to save a farmer’s son. “I believe we need a change in plans.” With a roll of her wrist, the smith shifted her stance, dropping down before sprinting forward. “Move back!” She commanded the few men and women who remained standing near before a brief muttering of words slipped out and a ball of darkly colored energy gathered at the midpoint of her sword as she swung it at the beast before her. As the blow connected the blackened energy burst outward in an area effect, catching Aspel, and the Behemoth directly in the center. The cracking of bones, and blood quickly beginning to soak dark patches through the visible clothing she’d worn would bear testament to how severe the situation had been all along, even if no one had wished to acknowledge it. This whole trip was… well, to put it mildly, Ari was definitely beginning to suspect they might have done better remaining at home (locking the unpickable lock on the door of her flat and turning off communicators, perhaps) than out here. The idea had seemed lovely in theory; in practice, she was now arguing with a cranky fire elemental that releasing him would almost certainly be misunderstood by the villagers they were trying to save, while watching Aspel take on something thrice her size -- practically unarmored. She had thought, at first, that perhaps slow but steady could win the day; it was tedious, but so long as she kept Aspel’s health and energy up, surely eventually the massive beast would be wounded enough to flee the scene, but the beast seemed far too angry to flee, and the villagers kept getting in the way with their misplaced bravery and their useless makeshift weapons, and… The damn thing seemed immune to Sleep and even to Confuse (useless as that would have been anyway, with Aspel’s sword striking it when it came close) and Ari was really considering giving in to Ifrit’s offer -- demand -- to provide assistance when Aspel dashed in, her stance strange and unfamiliar and… something very odd happened then. Ari had seen the attack before somewhere, she was certain, though she couldn’t place it at first. But the beast roared in pain, and she shouted at the farmers to “Get back, out of her way!” before focusing once again on Aspel to see… There was blood. Far more blood than previously. And she didn’t think the beast had struck Aspel again in her brief moment of distraction -- she would have heard it, surely. So what… Oh. Oh. Of course she had seen that attack before. She may not have shared the field with them often, but it had happened often enough, and Divina Marcos and the mysterious Li were… memorable, in the way they approached battle. Well, then. If that was how it was going to be, it was a good thing that Haste would allow her to get through Life Song that much quicker; she had a notion that she would be singing endless renditions of it until this was over, if this new tactic worked better than the last. The Behemoth howled at the attack, the damage inflicted obvious, and thanks to the Haste effect Aspel was able to prepare for the beast’s response with retaliation of her own. The blow was crushing, the metal of her breastplate being easily ripped through with the creature’s mighty claws sinking deeply into her body with her own lowered defenses, yet, that only allowed for Aspel’s combination of Vengeance and Vehemence to harshly resound, tearing the monster apart nearly as thoroughly as it had her just seconds before. Another howl of pain rang through the air from be the monster, and Aspel growled, her jaw clenching as her own blood continued to soak through. This set of clothing would be lost before the fight would even end. Between the beast’s cries of pain, and the own damage she’d endured, a ringing was beginning to present in her ears and Aspel could barely hear Ari singing. There was just enough recognition still available to know the other woman was, to hear the faintest hint of the song, but still, it was quite hard to follow altogether. She wouldn’t be able to continue on like this for long. Shifting a low grunt was earned before another flare of her sword was taken, and darkness was summoned again, this time, Sanguine Sword being the method for which Aspel felt best to proceed. A burst of red light surged forth, zapping a chunk of energy from the beast, and causing the faintest hint of warmth surging into her veins as cuts and scrapes closed as if willed to, and it was completed again with another bright red burst. Bringing Aspel back down to pain levels a bit more manageable thanks to the backing of Haste. Clearly, she’d need to do that again. Though, a chunk of the healing would be lost as soon as it was gathered with another blow bearing down upon her seconds after. Thankfully, even with the ringing in her head from blow after blow, she could still make out Ari singing. Thank Faram for small favors at least. Another hit of Sanguine Sword, and the continued backing of Life Song, dropped her own damage down further. This fight needed to be ended soon, and as far as Aspel was concerned, that meant only one thing. With groan and a shift in weight, Aspel charged in again, once more unleashing Unholy Sacrifice upon the beast before her. If Faram were to shine his grace upon them, hopefully, this battle would be over sooner rather than not. Not so much slow and steady as quick and frantic now; fortunately, the farmers had finally gotten the idea and removed themselves from the field and (perhaps somewhat less fortunately) Aspel now had the beast’s undivided attention. It became a cycle of frantic singing and playing and worry then -- she sang, Aspel fought, the beast roared, the attacks flashed bright as they connected. Just as she feared her songs would still prove insufficient (she felt Regen still active on her, but it seemed the creature was striking so hard that even that was not enough), there was another flash of darkness, the behemoth screamed and fell backwards, the impact of its huge body shaking the ground. And as it fell, Aspel, too, seemed to crumple from her stance, collapsing in a bloodied heap, and Ari was running the short distance to her side, trying to swallow down the nearly uncontrollable panic. She hadn’t been armored -- she hadn’t had help -- that thing had been enormous -- all the songs in the world wouldn’t have been enough -- She was breathing. That was the first thing she noticed as she dropped to her knees. Possibly even awake, though how alert she was would be another story. “Aspel?” she tried, placing her hand on the other woman’s cheek, trying to sound calm and collected and not at all like she was about to weep (or launch into a tirade; that seemed like an idea too; surely even getting chased out of town by angry villagers for summoning a monster would have been better than these injuries). “Can you hear me?” There wouldn’t be a Mages’ Guild someplace so small; they were unlikely to even boast a white mage of their own, else why hadn’t he or she been out here helping defend the town? Perhaps a wisewoman of some sort -- farmers broke bones, too, and shepherds were occasionally mauled by wildlife, she supposed -- but in the way of medical attention that as needed by someone in this condition, she was probably the best thing they had, and she felt woefully unprepared. The small airship that came twice weekly for local produce and wine and various other products of the region -- which they were using as their means of transport back to the capital -- wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. What were they to do until then? First, a verification of just how lucid the other woman was. Then, she supposed she’d worry about the rest. Blood had begun to pool around where Aspel had fallen down to her elbows and knees, struggling to keep herself up, she would not fall, this would not be her end - even if her body was doing nothing outside of screaming in pain at every muscle and joint. The sword had been dropped to lay upon the ground as the smith was no longer capable of maintaining the strength that was required to to hold it, and a liquid filled cough shook her entire frame. Faram, she couldn’t die like this, not after the lifetime of what she’d lived through. Somewhere deep inside, Aspel didn’t really believe she would die, but there was always some sort of fear there. Though, with a few seconds passing, she could feel her arms beginning to give out, and there was something. A voice. It sounded vaguely familiar, someone she should know but her vision was starting to go as well. What were they saying? Her brain was working furiously, though it felt reduced to a slugs pace no matter how hard she attempted to make it work. “Ma-make s-sure,” Another cough wracked her body, blood sputtering from lips. “eveyone’s,” Arms finally gave out, as did her sight, “alriiiight.” The last word was slurred and barely audible as Aspel fully collapsed to the ground, consciousness fading almost entirely. There was the faintest registration of words - though she couldn’t make a single one out even if she tried her hardest- and the smith could feel movement. Now, if it was movement of her own body, or of the world around her, that was nearly impossible to tell. Then, just as it had in life, it seemed Darkness would over take her here too. Thankfully, it wasn’t the end. Though, some small part of Aspel perhaps wished it was due to the amount of pain that came with her next bout of consciousness. A low, pained groan slipped out, immediately followed by a regret filled whimper. Why had she woken? Well, at least it meant she was alive. Another groan as an attempt at moving fingers, and her hand was made. The movement was minimal and caused a spike of pain. Grimacing, eyes fluttered open to find she was now indoors. A flash of color off to one side, caused pause for a moment, taking in a deep, slow inhale - even though it caused her chest and stomach to ache - was managed. Unfortunately, her brain still hadn’t regained full levels of functionality, but there was recognition enough of a dry throat and cracked lips that an attempt at a single horse word would be managed. “Water…?” Her voice barely felt a whisper, but somehow, Aspel still hoped they’d heard. By the time Aspel awoke, Ari had curbed her panic. It had been a long several hours spent running from one room to another in the wisewoman’s makeshift clinic; her hands had only recently been scrubbed of blood and her tunic was ruined, but she hadn’t wanted to go back to the room on her own, especially when the wisewoman seemed to consider her some sort of expert (she wasn’t) and her healing some sort of magic (it technically wasn’t). So she had helped cut away bloody strips of clothing, wielded a sponge, winced and held together skin as it was stitched, watched as bones were set with practiced ease -- as she’d thought, farmers broke bones often enough that such was not a concern for the local healer -- and then sat by, singing softly, once she was certain that the small healing would do more good than harm. The wisewoman had stepped out -- apparently, she needed certain herbs to make additional salve, now that she had run entirely out -- when Aspel open her eyes and croaked out a word. Ari didn’t realize what it was, at first, then picked up her own glass and attempted to hold it gently to the other woman’s lips so that a trickle of water would emerge, hopefully little enough that it could be easily swallowed. “Well,” she said, trying to keep her tone as light as possible -- the last thing Aspel needed right now was her distress. Ari suspected she had plenty of her own. “I suppose I won’t have to have you carried to the ship tomorrow, after all. How are you feeling, aside from miserable? I think half the bones in your body may have been broken, and you’ll have a new scar or two.” The stitching, while necessary, would almost guarantee it. “They would throw a feast in your honor out there, if they thought you could sit up to eat it.” The local priest had come by some time ago. He had seemed not to know the right questions to ask -- and Ari had been glad to lie to him to smooth things over, thanking him for his prayers for Aspel’s health and sending him on his way. She didn’t suppose he’d have been quite as warm (the idiot) had he realized exactly how the village had been saved. She pulled the cup away once half of the water contained within was gone, offered, “If you’d like to go back to sleep, it might be easier on you. I can help.” That would usher in yet more waiting and worrying, but she thought she might be able to layer on more healing. The skin around the closed cuts was already looking less puffy. It was a little difficult to swallow, but not impossible. Slow and steady was the name of the game, and thankfully, it was what ended up working best in the end. With enough water drunk finally, perhaps speech would be much easier. Her hearing was a little muted - had she taken a blow upside her head? - but the foggy words eventually did make sense, as slowly as they were being processed through her brain. “The villagers?” The question was obvious in her head, but perhaps not as easy to follow for anyone else. “Did we,” What? What could they have done? “help?” There was a faint struggle to sit up, not an active bit of movement, but the moment would pass over her face, a slight grimace before a sigh was earned, which would be followed by another brief flash of pain. Life was going to be miserable for a few days yet, really, there was no other way. Though, there was still Ari’s question to answer, but somehow, Aspel couldn’t be entirely bothered with her own well being. To say she was completely unconcerned would also be a lie, as there was some vague semblance of self preservation available, after all, the smith did have people that relied upon her. Her brain churned for a moment, trying to come up with a proper response but the internal crashing wave of emotion brought on by the situation - failure, fear, nerves, unsureness, relief and tension - was enough to barely be able to fight through at all. “My apologies.” Was the best she could muster at first. “I appear to have forgotten…” What though? “myself.” How the hell could she follow that up? “Are you well?” While she’d been concerned for the villagers, Aspel was blatantly worried for Ari, and even though she wouldn’t be able to comprehend why there was a difference in the emotion between the two thoughts, it was there. Regardless of the pain, Aspel attempted to lift her hand, to move it so that grasping Ari’s own may be possible, a mixed intention of seeking and offering comfort all at once housed within her. “I will be well.” “A few injured, from before they realized they ought to get out of your way,” Ari said. Of course Aspel was more concerned over others than herself -- why was this even a surprise anymore? She waited with as much patience as she could muster as the other woman spoke with slow uncertainty. She sighed heavily, and added, “And yes, I’d say we more than helped. None of them had any idea what to do with that thing aside from charging in with pitchforks on ill-advised suicide missions. They’ll be talking about you for awhile, I would guess.” The apology was shrugged off and she said simply, “It worked, so you needn’t apologize, though if I’d guessed how badly you were going to wind up injured, I would have just allowed my fiery friend to take care of the problem, even if that would almost certainly have had us run out of town instead of lauded as heroes.” There were things these people didn’t know or understand, but it would have been nigh impossible to explain Ifrit. “I am…” worried, frustrated, “unharmed, as you can see.” She looked down at herself and clarified, “That’s your blood on my tunic, not mine. It wasn’t interested in me once you caught its attention.” Which was probably for the best, considering she wouldn’t have been too likely to survive a blow from those giant paws, but… “Your clothes were a loss, unfortunately,” she added quietly. “We had to cut you out of what was left of them to see just how badly you were hurt. I’ll bring you something later, when you can get up.” Which was likely not to occur until tomorrow’s airship arrived, really. Well, the wisewoman would take good care of her patient until then, all things considered. She reached out to take the offered hand, but was afraid to squeeze, lest she cause more pain. Instead, she ran her thumb over Aspel’s knuckles, sighed. “Of course you will. I never doubted it.” A shameless, blatant lie, but she needed to say it. A pause, then, “But next time you suggest a trip out of town, I am locking the door and possibly tying you to the bed.” The thought was almost enough to make her laugh. “From vacation to medical leave. Only you.” “Mm.” The vibrations caused a low ache to radiate through her chest. Though honestly, she really didn’t want to be talked about at all. The more people talked about her, the more likely this information was to land in the wrong hands. “I wish they would not.” The sentence was kept low, but firm in its resolve regardless of the situation. This wasn’t something to be played with or lauded for others to hear. A moment was allowed, thoughts beginning to circulate regarding precisely what she had done. How was she going to… “It is the price that comes with Fell.” The words were low, feeling like marbles being rolled around in her mouth as eyes dipped away, and nothing but anxiety regarding what would transpire in the next few seconds filled her heart and soul. Really, for the power to decimate a battlefield, it was the least that anyone could give, and rightfully should. No Hume on the planet should be able to wield any significant force without having to pay. “I would rather you not be run from town.” The words were tender, low still in volume as her eyes remained turned away. If Ari was in shock regarding the situation or not, Aspel couldn’t be entirely sure, but whatever grip she might have on the other woman’s hand remained light. If the bard wished to pull away, to leave her here, that probably was what the smith deserved in the end. A comment almost came about being tied to the bed, but instead, Aspel let it go. If Ari would be bothered or not was yet to be determined and well… Aspel wasn’t sure her own shame, or the added dread weighing her down could take looking up until the other woman spoke. “People like heroes,” she said by way of response to Aspel’s desire not to be discussed. “It cannot be helped. At least the only bard present is unlikely to write a song honoring your exploits. They’ll forget soon enough.” Though likely not as soon as Aspel wished -- as Ari had said, people liked heroes. At the next statement, she sighed and said, “Yes I suppose it is. I’ve seen it a few times before.” Really in her experience, Fell Knights seemed to exemplify suicidal tendencies. “I can’t say I blame you for not doing that very often. It does not look particularly comfortable.” And that, really, was all there was to it as far as she was concerned. Trust Aspel to find new ways to wind up injured. She would in turn have to figure out new and creative ways to keep her alive, she supposed, if she continued on this way after they returned home. “And I would rather you not wind up broken in ten different places, but I suppose neither of us can always have what we want,” she said with a huff of frustration. Really, summoning would have been better. The failure to realize it in time was on her. “All’s well that ends well, I suppose. I’ll be forewarned next time.” And do… something. She wasn’t entirely sure exactly what, but she’d work it out. “I am no hero.” It was an easy thing to say, something engrained so deeply within her that the words slipped out thoughtlessly. Though as Ari continued on about how she had ‘seen it a few times before’ and how ‘It does not look particularly comfortable.’ A ponder ripped through her head if perhaps herself and Ari lived in the same reality anymore. “Comfort is the least of my concerns.” The words came out a little harsh, the slightest edge to her voice. A low clearing of her throat. “I would be more afraid of them running us out of town or attempting to set flame to this bed.” Words were kept soft in volume, and even if she couldn’t sit up properly, Aspel would try to keep aware of what was going on about them. The last thing she needed was getting tossed out on her ass quite so soon. “Fell Knights are not widely well received.” The words of the bard doing something or not weren’t given much thought. “Ideally, there will be no next time. I have broken enough vows today to shatter at least a dozen hearts.” And it was true. She’d vowed to herself to never do it again, knowing that if she was found out, her entire family was likely to disown her as quickly as they heard. Yet, it would seem that once again she’d failed. “It seems to be a matter of perception,” Ari said. “Those people out there would not agree with you. And as for running us out of town -- or setting flame to the bed -- not only do I find it hard to believe after you saved a few dozen lives, but regardless, they are remote enough to have seen maybe a handful of trained fighters in all their lives. They didn’t know what they were looking at.” She shrugged and added, “I told the wisewoman you were a Sentinel, which she had never heard of. She was duly impressed. That is all there is to it.” She gave a small smile and added, “I am an accomplished liar. It comes with being an actress.” At the statement about the reception of Fell Knights, she only rolled her eyes. “People get up in arms about the most absurd things. Did you hurt anyone? Well, aside from yourself, I suppose -- the answer is no. You helped.” And really, what in the world did something as insignificant as class matter? Aside from the fact that any healer would have to work twice as hard. “I can’t deny I’ll be glad if you don’t, just to save…” me “the people who care about you the worry.” Though Aspel looked worried enough herself. Why, Ari couldn’t say -- the villagers would remain clueless, they were both alive, Aspel’s injuries would heal. Why worry now? Ari sighed before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on the other woman’s forehead. “I wish you wouldn’t… beat yourself up this way,” she said. “You may not have noticed, but that beast already did that. Further flagellation is really not required.” Aspel would be lying if she denied a desire to scoff at Ari’s words of her heroism. Though, it seemed a pointless battle and one she…. Had no strength to argue. Ari’s continued prattling continued to earn silence for a bit, letting the other woman’s talking fill the room until completion and only then would Aspel’s eyes raise, attempting to meet the Bard’s. “Then am I correct to understand you care not that I am Fell?” Faram, this felt like it could hurt. Ari gave her a bewildered look. “Why would I care?” she asked. She made no secret of the fact that she was not much of a believer in Faram, and even had she been, she was always suspicious of any statements about the relative goodness of something because Faram said. If there was some omnipotent being out there -- and who was she to know if there was or was not? -- she had to assume that it would not concern itself with something so petty. “Aside from the fact,” she amended, “that you have a new and creative way to wind up injured, which means I will have to up my efforts to keep you from ending up this way -- I must admit that I was hoping for a rather different conclusion to the evening.” “Because most do.” People often feared what they did not interact with or understand. Then, even if one did not chose to believe what they heard, the powers of Dark were not exactly a pleasant sight to behold for anyone bearing witness. There was also those who followed cultural norms regardless of where they came from, it was always better not to be shucked in with outcasts and freaks if it could be helped. A moment was taken as Ari spoke, listening. “It is…” What? “Far from new… In my repertoire.” The words would hold the faintest hint of defeat behind them. “I was…” How would she ever explain this? “attempting to leave it behind.” Was that really the best she had? Of course Aspel could get into her entire history, but it felt…. Ridiculous in this moment and time to do so. “Rictor and Seloria can not know.” Of course, that fear would arise now, as a brief panic gripped her chest, but she somehow managed to keep the strain from her voice. “Mag already does.” Though, the thought regarding Ari’s commentary about how she’d wished the evening would have gone did not leave Aspel’s head. Even if it felt awkward to comment about now. Perhaps, it would seem, their relation would not be over so soon. “I suspect this will be neither the first nor the last instance of me straying from the societal norm, then,” Ari said with a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve told you before -- I care about your actions. They seem above reproach from where I stand. If it is my moral compass that is... faulty, well, I prefer it this way.” And hopefully, this would be the end of it. “New for me, but I gathered you did not simply decide to… experiment.” It was likely tied to the other secrets the older woman carried. To Ari’s way of thinking, this one seemed the least harmful of the lot, but it did not seem Aspel thought so. On some things, she supposed they would never see eye to eye. “Leave it or keep it -- it makes little difference to me. As I said, the only bard present will not be writing a heroic ballad of your exploits. Tell me what you want me to say to anyone who asks about how our trip went -- that is what I’ll say. It does not need to be more complicated.” She knew very well about keeping secrets from family. Some things were better off not shared. And although she liked Rictor rather a lot, considering his affiliation… Well, not everyone was open-minded. Unfortunately. She reached out to cup Aspel’s cheek with her free hand, offered a small but genuine smile. “Never mind everything else. Why don’t you sleep?” she said, her tone and expression gentle, full of no small amount of concern. “You need to heal. Put the worry away for awhile.” It was certain to still be there when she awoke. “I’ll stay here with you tonight.” She did not find herself wanting to let go of Aspel’s hand, but fortunately, she did not need an instrument to sing a lullaby. She had not anticipated having to argue with Aspel about who would carry their bags, which, in retrospect, had been an oversight on her part. Certainly the other woman was barely standing unaided, and certainly there was -- just as expected -- an entire crowd of villagers ready to carry not only her bags but also her (their perception of Aspel as a hero seemed quite firmly entrenched for all that the woman wanted none of it), and even so, Ari found herself sighing in exasperation outside the clinic and repeating, “Can you please, for my sake, put that down, and focus on walking without toppling over? I packed it, I got it here, and Erik,” she smiled at the strapping young farmhand who had been the first to volunteer himself, “will be glad to assist us in boarding.” The airship was moored not far out of town -- barely a ten minute walk -- but she was worried enough about Aspel’s ability to reach it, never mind reach it while carrying two bags. Hands on hips, she looked Aspel’s pale, bandaged form up and down. Really, pretty town or not, this trip pretty much constituted a perfect failure in every way. There had been at least three variations of ‘I can carry my own blasted bags’ up until this point and time. Well, that was before they even left the clinic. “I am quite capable of not falling over while maintaining hold on my luggage.” Or at least, these were the words out of her mouth. The truth of the matter was that the smith did question her own ability to remain standing a bit. She most likely could make it to the airship however, and that was really all that was needed at this point. “Certainly, Erik can assist with your bags,” Aspel offered the boy what smile she could muster. “as I am unable to help you myself.” It would give the poor lad something to do and still let her keep her things appropriately handled. “Additionally, if we are to make our time, I do believe we should begin moving.” Which mostly meant for Ari to move out of her way. There was no way in all of Faram’s good graces that she could walk, carry her bags and move around the other woman right now. If she could at least walk in a straight line this obviously wouldn’t be quite so bad. “That’s lovely,” Ari said with a roll of her eyes. “Note that I said for my sake. I am certain you think you can climb a mountain in a blizzard right this moment,” frankly, she wouldn’t put it past Aspel to be stubborn enough to try, “but have pity on me and my poor, frazzled nerves.” It wasn’t even entirely a lie -- she had certainly expended enough nervous energy over the last two days. Erik piped up then -- predictably -- with assurances that he could carry all the bags (quite easily, Ari thought -- they hadn’t packed all that heavily for four days away), and Ari nodded her agreement and told him, “Just… take them. All of them. And then we can indeed be moving,” likely slowly and with considerable pain, “else we will miss our flight.” And the last thing either of them wanted was to be stranded here until the next ship came. What would it be tomorrow, she thought, a plague of locusts, perhaps? They really needed to get out of this town and back to Emillion. “Consider it a favor to me.” Ari clearly wasn’t about to drop this and Aspel had to wonder precisely what she’d done to have come to this exact point and time in her life. If it was for the better or not, she wasn’t entirely sure anymore, but who was counting anymore? However, with the new ranting regarding Aspel’s belief about her own physical prowess in this instant she let out a huff of air with furrowed brows. “I must advise how it would behoove you to leave my summertime jaunts in Kerwon out of this.” Obviously, Aspel was feeling better. Then there went the bard giving all their luggage off to the boy, and Aspel finally was unable to repress the sigh she’d been attempting to avoid. “Fine, for you.” Came the final consent to assure they could get moving if for a supposed no other reason. Even if there was something odd tugging the insides of her chest around everytime Ari seemed to voice some vague hint - or glaringly obvious - mention of concern. “I could have very well handled it.” The smith found herself muttering regardless as she began the slow, and painful, journey towards where the airship was expected to dock. “I am certain you think so,” Ari said, her tone hitting a note of fond exasperation. “As I said, indulge me.” She matched her pace to Aspel’s -- slow and careful, as she’d anticipated -- and the farmhand fell into step behind them loaded down with all of their bags. Fortunately, she could see the airship in the field in the distance, so it really was quite close -- and they were nearly free of this place and its penchant for trouble and interruptions. “Let us agree on one thing,” she said, pitching her voice low enough that only Aspel would hear. “The next time we get the outlandish idea to spend some time together, let us just stay home, lock the door, and turn off all possible modes of communication. I think I have temporarily lost my taste for travel.” The words rolled easily off her tongue; she did not think about the implications of next time or her own willingness to overlook a weekend which had been, by any measure, a disaster. At least her good humor was restored to a point where she could aim an amused look at her companion and tell her, “I’ll make up for the favor I owe you for surrendering your bags then, I assure.” No words would be given to Ari’s indulgence as the smith’s bags had already been handed over appropriately to the boy who seemed perhaps a bit too eager to assist. However, at the next slew of words which sprung forth Aspel couldn’t help the slightly sly smile that arose. “Is that where the tying me to the bed shall come in?” Of course, she couldn’t help the tease. Though, with this new commentary, a brow rose. “Now two I am owed, and to think, all this weekend had been intended for was delivering the promises of my own.” |