Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-05-31 06:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, arielle chiaro, aspel cassul |
You push me, I don't have the strength to resist or control you, so take me down...
Who: Ari & Aspel
What: Ari tries an experiment Aspel cries in a corner.
Where: Aspel's apartment
When: Around 11:00 this morning
Rating: PG-ish
Status: Complete~
The last few days had been more exhausting than anticipated; she had returned home from her jaunt with Wil and collapsed into bed, sleeping for thirteen hours before reemerging from her stupor, feeling rather slow but mostly human, only to have to head out again the very next day. She had managed, by grace of careful preparation, to avoid burns of various kinds and to heal most of her injuries, but the lethargy from the heat and healing had seemingly remained. Still, a cool shower had done wonders to restore her energy, and having contacted Aspel to ensure that she was available, Ari dressed, slung her lute case over her shoulder – unfortunate, but the flames had not been as kind to her beloved mandolin – and headed out. The light of late morning seemed very mild after the blinding desert sun, and she enjoyed her walk despite any lingering soreness. The bazaar district was already bustling; she made her way through the crowds, adeptly ducking between people to make a path. Passing close to a row of food stalls, a pleasant, sweet aroma assailed her senses and she turned, doubling back. The elderly, friendly-looking woman behind the counter smiled and said, "Interest you in a sweet, dearie?" It hardly took any time at all to give in to impulse and point to the row of plump, golden honey buns. "I will have two of those, please." She had thought about it off and on since her meeting with Li; the whole thing seemed highly absurd, but... Aspel did seem to drink exclusively mead. And playing off dessert as nothing but a friendly gesture would be easy enough - obviously Aspel didn't hate honey, so she would hopefully enjoy it regardless - unless it turned out Li's words had more truth to them than she privately believed. As unlikely as the whole thing appeared, seeing him yesterday had reminded her of it anew, so she couldn't help wanting to know, and this seemed the quickest way to find out. The buns paid for, she took the white paper bag in hand, thanked the seller, and proceeded on her way. By the time she reached The Armory ten minutes later, the bag was soaked through, and her hands were dreadfully sticky, so she rapped on the door with her elbow and called out, "I'm sorry, my hands are full - could you let me in?" The morning had been hellacious at best when she woke in a whirlwind of confusion and dread welled up within her stomach, after a night of rough sleep at best. Then, of course, Aspel felt herself on pins and needles for the rest of the day with anticipation of the several things that were going to happen and even some of the possibilities of what could happen. Any day she would hear news of the final decision and depending on that, would dictate how her life would change, how her time allotment and public image might potentially be uprooted. Though, with her current track record over the past half decade, she couldn't imagine much would change. Perhaps she might need to be a bit more careful of how often she went out drinking, and maybe she might need to start eating in public again, both thoughts left her feeling out of sorts, but it would be a necessary evil all in of its own right. The smith would simply adjust. Also, the hours of The Armory would most likely need to be reduced as well. Though, while foresight and thought on the manner would be good, it did not mean that she should start mapping out her future until the phone call had been received. With the message from Ari, it had brought both relief in form of a distraction and more tension as Aspel had not the faintest of what the bard could possibly want. Though admittedly, it was quite nice to be hearing from the other woman as their communication had been a bit on the sparse side in the last few days... At least, in comparison to how ramped up it had been before. Thanks to the message from Ari, the pre-warning of her arrival, Aspel had left the closed sign up for the shop but remained sitting down in the main customer area, on a bench with elbows resting against her knees, hunched over trying not to let her thoughts get the best of her. When the rapping at the door came, and the call, the smith quickly stood, a few brisk steps closing the distance between herself and the door before pulling it open and a somewhat forced smile would be given to the other woman, nerves eating away at the back of her mind. "Wel," The word died in her throat as Ari held up the rather sweet and sticky looking, tell-tale, pastry bag. "-come." The last bit of the word was forced out, a bit more firm then the beginning which seemed almost jovial, as she eyed the bag carefully, and a bit curiously perhaps even a touch of suspicion, for a moment. "Please," Aspel stepped back from the door, her brows furrowing. "do come in." Was whatever was in that bag meant to be her surprise? "Sorry," Ari said, wondering exactly what that reaction had been. The look on Aspel's face was almost... wary? How odd. "You don't happen to have a plate handy, do you?" she asked. "These smelled so good as I passed the seller that I just couldn't walk by. But, well, this bag." She shrugged, looking sheepish. "I brought one for you, too - I'm sure you've had breakfast, unlike me, but I thought you might be able to enjoy it later, if you didn't want it now?" Keeping her tone light and easy, she entered the shop. "I'm going to have to wash my hands before I give you your surprise," she said ruefully. Just the thought of the honey on her strings made her want to wince. "I hope it isn't too disappointing after all of your guessing," she teased. "Not," Aspel couldn't help but continue with the mildly confused, curious and at the same time suspicious look at had cropped up in the few instances before. "down here. Upstairs though, there are plenty." A hand easily pointed, indicating that perhaps they would be best served by heading up into the smiths apartment. How good an idea this would be she felt hesitant about, though perhaps, it was just the fact that her morning had been less than particularly thrilling so far. In this moment, Aspel would weigh her concern on the latter and try to pretend, to herself, that she didn't feel the former would be an issue. Moving, the smith would gesture for Ari to step in before closing the door behind the other woman and locking it appropriately. Another glance would be stolen at the bag before Aspel shifted, moving to lead the way, opening and closing doors appropriately behind the bard as to assure her living quarters would not be drenched in whatever substance seemed to be emanating from the bag and finally, as Aspel passed by Ari once in her living room, the distance between them quite close for that brief instance, was when she finally caught wind of the scent wafting forth from the bag. Honey. Faram. It was nearly enough to make her internally panic and she tensed up slightly for a moment, freezing for a second before beginning to move again, her body language stiffing up, tense. "Is that so?" Aspel cleared her throat. "Please, make yourself comfortable while I retrieve plates and a-a cloth for your hands." A minor pause in movement would be given while she spoke, another few seconds ticking by as her eyes drifted down to the bag, and Ari's hands before she seemed to snap out of whatever played through her own head. A forced smile cropping up and the smith made short work of exiting herself into the kitchen. "I am certain your surprise will be readily enjoyed." Aspel called from the kitchen trying to assure her voice didn't crack, cupboards being opened and closed, the noise of glass plates shifting and movement around the small kitchen easily being heard as she prepped a variation of things. "Would you like something to drink?" Ari followed Aspel up the stairs and into the apartment, still clutching the bag between her hands. She wondered absently just what - if anything - this would amount to. Then Aspel walked by her after locking the upstairs door and... Ari practically saw her spine stiffen as she stopped abruptly for several instants before facing her again. She spoke, her voice tense. She stuttered. Then there was a moment of charged silence before she turned and continued on her way to the kitchen. It was fortunate for Ari that Aspel had already turned her back at that moment, or she might have seen her lips part and eyes widen in surprise. "Oh," she said, pitching her voice to be heard, trying to contain something that was starting to feel a great deal like glee. "I will. I'll take coffee, if you have it." That pie, she decided, had been one of the better investments she had recently made. Li's advice appeared to be worth its weight in gold. She settled on the edge of the couch for a minute or two. The clatter of dishes continued for quite some time, far longer than it would take to fetch one plate. Ari's mind was processing furiously - well, in the end, there was only one way to make sure. She stood and followed the sound into the kitchen. It was a tiny kitchen, she discovered, not much larger than hers, but being enclosed in walls, it seemed smaller. "I thought," she said, keeping her tone and expression nonchalant, "that the sink might serve me better than a cloth. It's sticky." There were two plates stacked on the counter; she upended the bag onto one of them, letting the honey buns tumble out, then leaned against the edge of the counter, crumpling the bag in her hands. Only one way to know. She watched Aspel carefully from under her lashes as she raised her hand to her lips, put the tip of her pointer finger in her mouth, licked the honey off. "Sorry," she said with a laugh. "I'm trying not to drip on your floor. I didn't think this through." That was a bald-faced lie. "Trash? And may I use your sink?" "Certainly." Aspel called back, attempting to maintain as calm and collected demeanor as possible, even if Ari couldn't exactly see her. If she could calm herself down at this point, perhaps she could remain in control, create a facade of being non-fussed about the whole situation that would be maintainable throughout the entire interaction, for however long that was likely to last. Moving about after the plates had been retrieved, they were left on the counter, before the smith moved, beginning to prep for making coffee, as it was something she did not regularly partake in, for Ari and tea for herself. The grinds were retrieved, tea leaves, two cups, water filled in a kettle and everything was set so that it would be nearly ready for serving before she gave pause, the palm of her hands pressing against the edge of the counter as she attempted to collect herself. Hearing Ari enter from behind, Aspel immediately straightened up, assuring not to lean over the sink appropriately and cleared her throat. Listening a moment, she nodded, the original intention had been to bring Ari a dampened cloth, but perhaps just washing the mess from her hands entirely would prove a much more beneficial move. Shifting Aspel was about to move out of the way of the sink, to allow Ari entrance for its use when she looked over at the other woman to catch sight of the sweets on the plate and then Ari raising a finger to be sucked on. The smiths lips fell agape, a noise dying in her throat as if she perhaps had had something to say but it was forever gone at that point and a hand began to rise, as if Aspel intended to grasp something, the direction and position of her hand seeming as though the smith were to grab for the bard's wrist before stopping mid-air. Swallowing hard, Aspel stepped back without much thought, ramming her backside into a cabinet with a low grunt; the cabinet shook behind her, its contents internally rattling with how hard the contact had actually been, even if Aspel would look only minimally phased. "Please." She managed to stammer out, a hand flourishing towards the sink. "As you need." Really it was the best she could get out and she could feel her heart starting to hammer away in her chest. Eyes would shift, looking over towards the kettle and praying it would whistle soon. She hadn't even had to watch carefully, Ari realized. The reaction was so intense - and so immediate - that someone blind and deaf would have perceived it. The look on Aspel's face... Ari tried for her most innocent expression, but the corners of her mouth may have twitched up just a little; she thought this might have been the first time in her entire acquaintance with Aspel that she felt entirely in control of the situation. Aspel's hand reached for her, then stopped in midair. A moment of silence followed before the other woman jerked back and ran into the cabinet. Ari gave her an inquisitive look, sucked another of her fingers clean, savoring the rush that went through her as she watched Aspel's face and body language. "Careful," she said, her voice low and very amused. She contemplated, for a moment, stepping into Aspel's personal space and letting things take their course. She had a notion that for a change, it would not be complicated. But... Then again, she thought, that would also be entirely too easy. And she did enjoy games, especially when she suddenly realized she could win them. And it would be nice, for a change, to know that she wasn't the only one constantly fighting off that persistent buzz. She didn't think of it as vindictive. It was simply... fair. By her own definition. She took one step closer, paused for a moment, smiled, then turned away and busied herself with soap and water just as the kettle whistled. Aspel swallowed hard, her mouth remaining open and her breath hitching as Ari began to clean the second digit with her mouth. A hand raised, combing over her face. "Mm." Was all that Aspel could even remotely manage in response to Ari's commentary about how she should be careful. Eyes, attempting to remain locked on the kettle of water, not wanting to provoke herself any further, or clearly demonstrate how much more of a fool she could truly be in one instance. Surely, even if her body could take the punishment of accidentally slamming into things in her kitchen, Aspel wasn't certain her ego, or mind could take much more. Though, she was a horrible addict and the sound of Ari moving caused her eyes to dipped back to take in what was happening. Oh Faram. Aspel swallowed hard, locking on the other woman and as much as she wished for the possibility to will words to form, they could not, would not, spring forth. Then Ari turned, that smile would not be forgotten any time soon, and began to wash her hands and the shrill noise of the kettle rung through her head, not being entirely registered until the noise climbed a bit higher and a couple of brisk, perhaps overly anxious steps were taken to snap off the burner of the stove. Finally, Aspel felt like she could breathe again, if only for a brief second. "Do you take cream or sugar?" The words were almost choked out, eyes locked down on the kettle and after a moment, the time she needed to assure her nerves, a kitchen towel was grabbed, to wrap around the handle with ease. Both of which she was certain to have as the baking for the Ladies Who Lunch had left her personal stores of items rather full. She had wanted to see such an expression on the other woman's face for such a long time that she couldn't help savoring it for a few moments. Aspel, seemingly struck speechless. By honey, of all things. She felt almost as though she ought to thank Li, but reminded herself that she had paid for the information with tea and pie and her best attempts at patience. She washed her hands thoroughly, then reached across for the dishtowel, her arm brushing Aspel's when she grabbed it. She dried her hands, pretending to nonchalance even though she was feeling a little giddy. "Plenty of sugar," she said easily, reaching across Aspel again to replace the dishtowel on the handle of the stove door. "I like sweet things." And so, apparently, do you. If her smile held a tinge of self-satisfaction, well, she couldn't entirely help it. She picked up the top plate, deftly slid one of the buns onto the second plate without getting any more honey on her hands - no need to overdo it, the experiment had already proven a smashing success - and asked, "Here or out there? I assume you'll be joining me, then?" she added, gesturing with the second plate since Aspel had set out two. "For a late breakfast, that is," she clarified. "You seem like you might be hungry, after all." In more ways than one. Aspel stiffed for a moment when she felt the brush of Ari's arm against hers. Her breath being held for whatever might be attempted next and her mind flew into a panic of if she'd have the ability to stop it, or if she'd cave and crumble underneath the pressure of old addictions and obsessions. It had been her longest running, recent fear. Yet maybe, just maybe, with the sweet smell lingering on the bard's skin, the softness of her hands, and likely other parts, the smith would be able to forget her trials, her tribulations for just a bit, and in that time she could... Ari's arm slipped by her again, pushing the cloth back into place and Aspel's hand shot down, firmly grasping the other woman's forearm, her hold solid but careful not to cause pain. Her mouth would open to speak, but words were absent when she tried to force them out, her grasp softening, allowing an ease of the other woman to slip from it if Ari so wished. "Ari I," There was a pause as Aspel tried to search, grab for words that weren't forming as naturally as most did, not to panic... Ari had asked her to speak freely, and Aspel had asked in return for Ari to ask questions and if she did not disclose then… The loud cry of the telephone burst throughout the apartment, causing Aspel to start slightly, her grasp on Ari's arm dropping as she smacked her other hand against the stove. "The living room, certainly." The words were completely absent and void of any real attention, her mind clearly flown off in another direction as Aspel turned about, a hand laying on Ari's shoulder for the briefest of moments as she side stepped by the bard with a single minded purpose and hurriedly progressed into the living room, snatching up the receiver of the phone and holding it up to one ear. "Hello? Yes, this is Aspel Cassul." A pause as she listened to the voice on the other end, eyes flicking over to a clock resting on the mantle of the fireplace, denoting the time. "I am well, and yourself?" Listening once again until her chin raised, something a mix between nervousness and anticipation flooding her face. "Ah, yes, of course. I have a bit of time." Silence fell once more as her head nodded absently, even though the person on the other side of the phone would be incapable of seeing it and a few low noises of confirmation would be given. "Would you?" Another pause as she listened, thoughtfully, and seeming relieved, though a new tension would settle in. The body of the phone would be picked up, as she listened carefully but she'd turn towards Ari, an apologetic smile apparent as she mouthed the words 'My apologies.' to the bard. With that, then another bout of head nodding resumed with more noises and brief words of agreement before a pause. "Right now?" A slight frown tugged at her face as she turned away from Ari. "I fear I would be incapable of coming to discuss the terms of this that immediately, would it be possible to meet in Bahamut Hall at..." Her eyes darted back to the clock. "Two? Yes? Ah, that would work fantastically, thank you. Then I shall meet you then to further broach the terms of compensation and the details of duty. Thank you, again." With that, Aspel paused, letting the receiver fall down to one side for a brief moment, before hanging it up and letting out a breath of relief. It was over, done with. The phone was idly dropped back onto the stand which it normally stood and a hand reached up, attempting to rub the stress from her neck. It would take a moment but she'd sigh. "My apologies, I had been..." How to explain this as she'd been hiding it from so many. "Anxiously awaiting that call." There was a moment, as Aspel gripped her arm, that she really thought they would be resolving this here and now, against the kitchen counter. Aspel tried to speak, Ari felt her own heartbeat speed up and then... The ring of the telephone, and Aspel's attention was diverted. Ari let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding when Aspel strode past her, then followed into the living room with the two plates in her hands. Aspel seemed to be deep in conversation with someone, her posture tense. Ari waved off the apology, then returned to the kitchen to hunt down a pair of forks - best not to eat the honey cakes by hand, considering - and the two cups. She returned with these supplies and settled on the loveseat, listening with half an ear to Aspel's side of the conversation. Work, or it seemed to be. By Aspel's tone and the tension in her shoulders, someone important. By the time the conversation had concluded, Ari was halfway through her honey cake and cup of coffee. When Aspel turned to her with the explanation, she shook her head. "It is no trouble," she said. "Good news, I hope?" "Ah," A pause as Aspel's eyes dipped down, considering the question and all of the ramifications of the news that had just been delivered. "In many ways yes, and a few no." Fingers shifted, moving to brush over the material of the receiver for a moment, recalling the tone and information presented to her in the conversation that just concluded moments before. "It appears I will be needing to reassess the hours of The Armory." She couldn't help but admit to herself that the words left her feeling a bit sad. After all these years of working to build up the name of her business and its brand, the long days and nights spent assuring all orders were filled on time at the highest quality possible. A slight frown tugged at the corner of her mouth before being dismissed and her gaze fell on Ari again. It would be so easy to turn this into a rather exciting celebration with the other woman sitting right there and... It wouldn't hurt, would it? It could be simple if she made it such, correct? She could.... "I will have to notify..." The words died in her throat, her thoughts finally slowing down enough to realize she hadn't even told Ari was was going on. "I have made council." "Well then," Ari said, her eyes widening. One did not make it to the council accidentally; the amount of work required to be considered was, as she understood it, quite extensive, and then the selection process after that... she was uncertain how the fighters did it, but knowing them, even more rules than her own guild utilized would certainly be involved. "This is a cause for a celebration, then, is it not?" she asked, breaking out into a bright, genuine smile. "I should think that you would be an ideal candidate for such a position. I will be the first to congratulate you." She thought of Drake and his mentions of the council. Was the Fighters Guild reorganizing? A worrying thought. Still, she meant it - she could think of none better than Aspel among the fighters she knew. "Our celebration looks a bit meager," she noted, gesturing to the honey cakes and the mugs, "but I'm certain we can make something of it." She thought of her instrument case, currently stashed against the side of the couch along with Aspel's jacket. "May I detain you for half an hour longer, or must you be on your way? I did come with the intent of giving you something, but it can wait until another day if the timing is poor." "Ah, yes." Aspel cleared her throat, a hand rising to allow fingers to comb through her own hair and gaze dropping. "I suspect it is." Her voice dropped down, eyes slipping across the floor for a moment in consideration of the circumstances. She'd remain quiet for a moment longer after Ari spoke of it being cause for celebration, the smith's eyes roaming over the bard's skirt, it'd be so easy to... and a ragged breath would be let out before the hand dropped away from her neck. "A drink perhaps?" Aspel shifted. "Though, I am certain many will be had at the auction tonight." Her comment was more passive, as it was not her intent to so openly converse about having made council until the official announcement had been made by Duhl. A weak smile was offered to Ari. "I fear my appetite is not quite with me now. Would you allow me to partake of it later?" A gesture was made to the honey cake that had been brought by the bard and the smith couldn't help but feel a bit bad for trying to take an out of the situation, especially after they had been so close to... The thought was shoved aside. Aspel could fixate and obsess over her thoughts later, now was not the time. "Certainly. I have some time yet before it requires that I prep to leave." A meager smile rose regardless of herself. She had spent far too long trying to figure out guesses for what Ari had to bring after all. "I will have to buy you one at your earliest convenience," Ari said agreeably. "Alas, I am once again temporarily sober." Her mentor had instilled in her the need for a clear head when working, and although he was long retired, Ari always imagined his face if she tried to drink between rehearsals, and wine immediately soured on her tongue. He had had that effect on most of his students, as she understood - and although she no longer saw him daily, his lessons were too ingrained now for her to ever consider changing. She could only imagine that Aspel's appetite - along with the rather promising mood - had disappeared when the call had come. "Of course you may eat it when you like," she said. "As I said, I picked them up quite by chance," well, mostly, "and thought you might like one, too." She ate the last bite of hers, licked her lips, the washed it down with her last gulp of coffee. "As for your surprise, it is not quite as grand nor as surprising as your new job," or honey-covered fingers, apparently, "but it was something that made me think of you." And had, if she were honest, been something that she had asked for some time ago with Aspel specifically in mind. She had not worked on it consistently, but rather off and on, but when Aspel had expressed such genuine homesickness a few weeks ago, she had stepped up her efforts; she had tried it out on her traveling companions their first night of camping in the desert and it had been pronounced perfect, so she thought it to be ready now. "As a matter of fact," she said, fetching her instrument to place it across her lap, "I did bring you a song." That had been the one guess she had not outright denied on the network; she was surprised Aspel hadn't noticed. She plucked the strings, tuning the lute as she continued to speak. "The scroll came into my hands through a curious sequence of events, and I do not think it has often been performed this side of the border - if at all - so I do hope you will forgive any stylistic inconsistencies as this may well be a Valendian premiere. And for once," she added with a smile, "its sole purpose is to be beautiful." No healing today. She began to play, picking out the increasingly complex accompaniment; in the tradition of most music from Kerwon, the texture was rich and quite hauntingly lovely. She had needed a dictionary for some of the words - her comprehension was far from stellar - but her diction was clean as she joined her voice to the accompaniment. It had turned out to be a serenade when she had translated it, but she doubted the time of day would detract from the performance, and she only hoped as she sang that the music would stir mostly good memories. Aspel was about to pipe up, make comment how she had a bottle of particularly fine mead that Vivi had given her recently, the fact that it was for her birthday would be left alone. However, Ari offered the information that she was sober again and the smith would simply let the thought go. "Perhaps when we both can have a drink then?" There was something about the notion of drinking with Ari, in celebration, that seemed particularly appealing, even if she couldn't find the words to explain why or what those feelings were precisely. "Mm." Would be the only reply given to Ari's assessment of the honey buns and a brief nod. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness on the matter." Though something in the pit of her gut didn't feel quite the same about the entire mess if she were perfectly honest. "I am certain it will be perfectly pleasant." Aspel offered in return to the statement, she always did enjoy when Ari sang and preformed. Though, the admission of the fact that it was indeed a song caused a curious raising of brow, hadn't she asked Ari about... Wait. Brows knit a moment, perhaps she would need to go back and re-examine that exchange between the two of them. Though, when Ari started going on at length about the piece of its performance tendencies, a curious bit of confusion would play across Aspel's features and she would shift, moving to seat herself on the couch, as it seemed the best place to be able to appropriately watch the bard from, while still giving Ari room to shift and move about as she may need in this time. It took a few curious moments before Aspel was able to place the song, as it had been some years since she had last visited Kerwon and even longer since she had really been able to aptly partake in its cultural wares. Yet, before long, place the song she would and it pulled at her heart, in both ways good and bad and simply emotional all at once, as the piece was anything but lacking in emotion with its deep and full tonal hues and flow. In fact, as she listened, the smith struggled to not allow herself to become too emotional, not because of any particularly negative memory, but simply because the piece moved her so. Near the end, Aspel retrieved her cup of tea, taking a long sip to help repress the urge to tear up if it could be helped at all. Though, thankfully, soon after, the song would be done and while there was a heavy, sad burden of nostalgia in her heart, at the same time, the smith couldn't help but be touched that Ari would bring something so close, and so beautiful to her home and attention. A hand raised, fingers folding over as they pressed to her lips for a moment, allowing her time to gather herself before it was pulled away and Aspel would clap. Pausing a moment, thoughts fluttered around before the smith would simply smile. "It was quite grand." Really, the other compliments she could think to pay felt hardly appropriate at this time. Eyes would glance at the clock after a moment, causing a slight frown to pull at Aspel's lips. She loathed the idea of asking Ari to be off, but she would need to soon. "May I get you a glass of water?" Instead was what she offered. "I will remind you in eight weeks, then," Ari said with a smile. "It is not a long run at all - we will open in six and a half, and the final performance will be given eight weeks from Sunday. I expect you will be settled in your new role by then, but if you are willing to delay the celebration for my sake, I would be pleased to have it to look forward to as I navigate this - if I am frank - disaster of a show." She did not say anything about the honey buns; she knew that Aspel understood as well as she did what had almost happened in the kitchen. The thought of it rekindled that warm thrill of success inside; they were not nearly done with that, but they were done for now. She did not watch Aspel as she sang, focused as she was on the complex fingerings and the strings of consonants and not-quite-familiar vowels. It was, in the end, a sad but hopeful song, and she could see both on Aspel's face when she finished - the sadness, but also the hope and a frank gratitude. She smiled softly when Aspel clapped, then bowed her head as if to acknowledge the applause. "I had hoped you might appreciate it," was all she said. She caught the look at the clock and answered, "I would gladly have the water, but then, I believe I ought to leave you to the rest of your day. It seems it will be a busy one." "Then remind me in eight weeks that I am to buy as well." A mental note was also made that she'd have to keep an eye out on when tickets went on sale for Ari's show and pick up one for the final night, regardless of how horrid the bard seemed to think it would be. A slight smile rose. "I am certain it will not be nearly as atrocious as you claim. Especially, with yourself in such the role you have been selected for." The compliment, while perhaps a bit over the top, was more so believed than not. Certainly, there had been an incredible improvement on the Founders Festival play this year, and that was, at least part, due to Ari's personal involvement, even if many of the other cast members had certainly had their own respective hands in it. "I have." Was the brief response, the feeling of other words on the tip of her tongue rose but then stayed there, not coming out and a glance was given down to the plates and cups on the table. She'd forgotten the coasters. Hopefully, their drinks would not mar the wood of the table. "I fear it shall." A hesitation rose before Aspel spoke up again. "Will I see you this eve at Vivi's auction?" Shifting forward, she began to collect the plates and cups from the table before carrying them all into the kitchen, leaving her own honey bun on the counter and disposing of the rest of the dishes into the sink, she'd clean them later. Obtaining a glass of water she returned into the living room and offered it to the bard, remaining standing for the few moments it would take Ari to get situated enough and hand the glass back. "As I have some prep to do, would you be terribly offended at showing yourself out?" Aspel asked over her shoulder as she brought the empty water glass back into the kitchen. It was beginning to become a common theme with them it would seem. Giving the other dishes a quick rinse out, the smith would return to the living room, noting that it appeared Ari was almost ready to leave and Aspel would wait. Allowing the other to pack up before a hand gestured towards the door leisurely, and the smith stepped forward, opening the door at the top of the stairs to allow Ari to go down easily. Letting the other woman step through, Aspel would pause before reaching out to touch the bard's shoulder, feeling an odd sense of deja vu settle in. "Ari?" The bard's name came out light, gentle even as she'd wait for a moment, allowing time for the other to look back at her before leaning forward, letting her hand remain on the bard's shoulder, placing a kiss on the top of the other woman's head. "Thank you." Came the low whisper. "The surprise was beautiful." There was a brief pause as Aspel swallowed. "Much like you." "Oh, we'll sort it out, I'm certain - as soon as the director just backs out of the way and lets us work," Ari said lightly. Low budget or not, the cast was decent - they'd muddle through somehow. "By closing night, you will hardly notice there were any problems." Ah, yes, the auction. She had nearly forgotten. "I will be there, of course," she said. "I would not miss it. And naturally I don't mind seeing myself out." She prepared her things, put away her instrument, and chanced a glance out the window. A few drops of rain had splattered across the glass. With a sigh, she picked up Aspel's jacket, too. She would simply have to return it another day; she didn't want to get soaked. She had plans to make, after all. They always, she reflected, seemed to wind up in this doorway, her one step down and looking up, the threshold between them. She recalled thinking weeks ago, from this exact position, that something might be - might not be - could be shifting. Today, she did not feel that same uncertainty. Something had already shifted. Perhaps her case was not so hopeless after all. The kiss on her head was light and not at all what she would have preferred, but she smiled, looked up, met Aspel's gaze, held it. Aren't you worried about overinflating my ego? she might have asked another day; today, she only said, "Only as beautiful as the one for whom it was meant, I think. I shall have to continue surprising you." She could already think of several ways in which she would be able to do so. She did not rush down the stairs this time, but took her time, a smile on her lips all the way down. The rules of the game had changed, and for the first time, she felt perfectly secure in her footing. |