Peony Min (blackmagicks) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-12-25 17:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, !plot: faram's mass, peony min, ridley irving |
Who: Peony & Ridley
What: Fluff (literal, figurative, you name it, they have it)
Where: Ridley’s room at the Tower
When: This afternoon!
Rating: G
Status: Complete
Peony tended to enjoy Faram’s Mass, although this year had been challenging in a variety of ways. Mass the night prior had not been the most comfortable of experiences, and she had found her thoughts wandering from religious contemplation during the elevations -- an uncommon problem in her life. She had had to remind herself that soon, this too would pass. Tonight, she would sit through a quiet, polite dinner, then wish her father, her stepmother, and her brothers well on their way. Then they would go, and she would be alone, as she had been before their arrival. That this brought her more sadness than relief was, perhaps, telling. But for at least one hour this afternoon, she would not think of any of it (not her father’s concern, her stepmother's icy disapproval, or her brothers’ departure). No, for this short span of time, she had a happy task to perform. Her small, fluffy burden was held against her chest as she descended via the waystone to the scholars’ floor of the tower. The kitten was not a dreamhare, true enough, but she was small, and white, and soft to the touch, and very much in need of love and affection. And, best of all, perhaps, the kitten, unlike the hare, would remain with her hume long after she was grown. Not a true replacement, but Peony judged that was actually for the best. Reaching Ridley’s door, she knocked. The knock drew the small blonde from her thoughts, eyes peeling from the page of her book to land on the door. Rarely was she surprised to be disturbed— fellow scholars often came to ask her to study, and while older mages were not common, this was a place for collaboration. Save for when she wasn’t present or sleeping, she hardly ever locked the door. On quiet feet she padded over, dress rustling behind as she tugged it open to reveal Peony, and — a kitten? She canted her head curiously, noting it didn’t look much like Quiz, before returning her gaze to her friend. An easy, affectionate smile passed over her lips. “Happy Faram’s Mass,” she greeted, opening the door the rest of the way. Peony smiled at the girl, entering the room when Ridley stepped back from the door. The kitten, utterly uncertain of this new place, clung to her shawl with tiny claws, looking around the small, tidy room with wide eyes. It would be a matter of days before she was wreaking havoc in here, Peony expected. “Happy Faram’s Mass,” she echoed. “I hope I am not interrupting?” The scholar shook her head, gently pressing the door shut. “Not at all. I have read this book before, but, ah,” her smile was a touch of shy, “I do enjoy the pictures in it.” Upon coming closer, she eyed the kitten once again, curiosity gnawing at her. It couldn’t be one of Quiz’s, could it? He had been a father mere months ago, but she supposed it was up to him, and not the female when to have new kittens. She nibbled at her lower lip, blinking upon forgetting herself and her manners. “Would you like some tea? The pot is still warm.” “Yes,” Peony said, “if you would be so kind. Perhaps while you pour, I might introduce you.” Detaching the kitten from her shawl, she held the ball of fluff out to the girl. “She has no name, but I am hoping you may be able to rectify that.” A small smile accompanied the next statement: “I know you miss Lysa, but I thought, perhaps, you would not be opposed to a companion.” Genuine surprise was an emotion that rarely caught Ridley off guard, as she could often keep her face in place, but this was— unexpected. She looked from kitten to councilor, hesitating before gingerly taking the white ball in her hands, cradling her most cautiously as it hooked its claws into her dress. Her gaze drifted to Peony once more. “For me? Truly?” she softly queried, more awed than excited for the moment. “If you would like to give her a home, yes,” Peony said. “Please do not feel obligated, but I do feel you two will suit each other.” The kitten was mild in temperament and affectionate -- seemingly perfect for the quiet scholar. Fortunately, by the gentle way Ridley was handling the feline, she thought she had been right in her assumption. Something warm fluttered in the small blonde’s chest as she carded fingers through that fur, brushing delicate spine. When she’d held a kitten last, she couldn’t remember. One of Quiz’s, surely, but never one of her own. The prospect of being able to give the sweet little thing a home had her peering up to offer a smile that wasn’t shy, but pleased, grateful. “I would like to, very much,” she returned, dropping her head to briefly nose the kitten’s neck, smile widening. “What shall I name her?” Peony returned the smile with a kind one of her own. “I suspect that is up to you,” she said. “Perhaps after a character in one of your books?” As Ridley locked eyes with the kitten, only for a moment, her smile softened. “Yes, perhaps I will. I will think on it today, and will let you know.” Shifting the small bundle in her hold, she turned to her friend once more, fondness reflecting in her gaze. “Thank you. I promise I will take good care of her.” “You are welcome,” Peony responded. “I will look forward to hearing what you decide -- and I do not doubt you will be good company for each other. Now, perhaps tea? I brought cookies.” For the next hour, at least, she would worry about little aside from the happiness of one young girl and her new feline companion. |