Who: Audrey Leradine & Lavitz fon Amell What: Catching up Where: The Coulombe Estate When: September 17 [backdated] Rating: R (mentions of suicide) Status: Complete
As per the Countess’ request, Audrey had slowly begun to shed out of her reclusive tendencies into something more appropriate. It was alright for her to feel alone or upset, but to allow it to control her life was not. The Estate was alive again. The windows were open, the curtains flowing in the breeze and Alys was more often spotted outside of her house either in her garden or even outside within the Nobles District. Still, she limited her socializations to only people she could tolerate. Audrey was still not well enough to completely re-enter high society.
So when her friend had contacted her, one of the maids had lead him into the patio where Audrey was currently enjoying the morning breeze along with some tea and pastries.
Thoughts of Audrey, and also of Juliette, had kept Lavitz preoccupied over the weeks as he considered their happiness, their well-being. They had kept his mood from slipping into dangerous lows, though he had sincerely wished there was something he could do for them. Forcing it on them wasn't in his nature; he hoped they'd come to him if they needed anything.
But today was not a day to wait, because he hadn't heard from Audrey in so long, and worry had gnawed at him since their last conversation. This time, he reached out to her first, wondering what he'd see when he got to her estate. Upon stepping onto the patio, regret slammed him in the gut. She seemed-- smaller, if possible. Weary.
The dragoon took up the seat next to her, saying nothing at first. Every day that drew closer to Nowe's death was another day he couldn't articulate his words, his feelings. Eventually, softly, he said: "Hey."
“It’s nice to see you,” she replied quietly, with a smile slowly growing on her lips. She had been ready to say something else when it had dawned upon her. “Oh, how rude of me for not offering first.” Her gaze shifted to the tea pot. “Would you like me to serve you some tea? You’re welcome to the pastries as well. How long since we last sat down and talked?”
Whatever words Lavitz had planned stilled in his throat. While he couldn't remember the last time they'd talked, he also couldn't remember when she'd last spoken to him so formally. Juliette was one thing with her politeness and formality, but Audrey had been Audrey to him for so long, not Alys.
He tried again. "I can't be sure. A while. And I'm alright for tea." His gaze roved over her face. "How've you been?"
Her hands slide across towards the teapot, serving him before placing it back down on the plate with a short sound. Reaching for her own cup, she took a sip lifting up the saucer with the cup as she did so. “I’ve been doing,” she trailed for a moment before returning back to him and setting the cup down, “as best as I could be. How about you?” A hand reached over to hold his, almost supportive.
Without needing to read between the lines, Lavitz knew. His mouth felt dry suddenly, but instead of reaching for the tea to resolve that, he turned her hand over in his, lacing their fingers without thinking about it first. "I'd say about the same," he admitted quietly, admiring the state of her wrist. Too thin.
“What are,” this had always been very fragile territory, but a repeat of what happened last year was something she didn’t want. “What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked, squeezing his hand. “Do you need company?” Audrey motioned to the empty house with her other hand. “I’m nothing but free if you’ll have me.”
He didn't know what he was doing. He only really knew what he wouldn't be doing-- visiting Nowe's grave. Seeing his family. Talking to either Kiernan or Mag. The thought of their last night out together stung as he remembered how angry he'd gotten, how he'd practically taken it out on them. What he'd said, what he hadn't said. What was done was done, and he couldn't take back his words or his actions. Only push the both of them away until he could figure out how to make ease the hurt.
It took a few moments to notice his grip had tightened, and guiltily, he loosened it. "I'm not doing anything," he confessed, not knowing how to follow that up with anything else.
There was something wrong. Unsure if she should pick at it or not, she let it slide until a further time he might seemed troubled. “Well,” she nodded, “I propose we do something! How about we take the dogs somewhere,” she offered. “I don’t remember when was the last time Mercutio saw his mother. I’m sure he’d be happy.” Though in truth she was sure the pup wouldn’t really care as long as he was out and free. “We can have a picnic.”
The suggestion gave Lavitz pause. Among the many things he would've expected, a picnic was low on the list-- but the more he thought about it, it didn't sound like much trouble. The dogs and Audrey, good food, a time away from their thoughts if they could manage it. No, it sounded like the best idea he'd heard in weeks.
"Where should we have it?" Out the words slipped, without consent. Really, that was as close to a yes as she'd get.
“Not here,” she used her other hand to reach for her teacup. “Too many people.” In truth, she was certain Lavitz had already heard all the rumors about Audrey—especially with that rat of a sister he had. “Let’s go to the Outlands. Surely there must be some nice spot out there, right?” Besides, it would do them both well to get out of the city, that she was certain. Putting her cup down again, a frown formed on her lips. She knew she had to tell him. It would be wrong to not divulge that sort of information—especially to him.
“I don’t want to alarm you, but,” Audrey breathed out trying to find a way to not make him fall out of his chair. “I tried to… end my life. I didn’t go through with it!” she was quick to add, looking at him then away. “I just thought you deserved to know.”
Lavitz fell silent, the admission weighing heavy. The deluge of mixed emotions — concern, regret, confusion — crashed over him without mercy, and he turned her hand in his grip again, unconsciously tracing his thumb along her life line. He remembered telling Mag almost one year ago, how she'd reacted so angrily, and he just— couldn't. How could he?
After enough time has elapsed, he spoke. "I'm glad you told me," he said, voice soft. "And that you didn't go through with it."
Audrey on smiled, holding his hand tighter. “Well, let’s not think about silly things. We have a picnic to plan! What kind of sandwiches would you like? Do you like iced teas?”
Questions that would apparently go unanswered danced around them, desperate to be asked. But Lavitz knew that anything that drove a person to suicide wasn't an easy conversation, and whenever she was ready to talk about it, they'd talk. As she'd owed him, he owed it to her to listen to her every word.
For now, they'd have to settle on more pleasant things. Nothing would be lost that way, only gained. His smile in return was brief, but there. "Usually sandwiches that aren't stacked four layers high, like some that I've had in the past. And I could go for iced tea." He readjusted their hands, so that they rested on his knee. "I hope you know that I can't cook or prepare food to save my life."
“Hah!” she laughed into the air. “You really think I’m cooking? No, I’ll ask some of the staff to prepare some. Faram knows I’ll send us to a white mage if I were to cook.”
"It can't be that hard to make a sandwich," Lavitz reasoned, doubting the words the moment they came out of his mouth. He paused. "Can it?"
Audrey glanced back at Lavitz, eyebrow raising with a bit of concern in her eyes. “So you’re saying you want to risk it?”
There was a pause, this time. He sucked in a breath. "I'll risk it if you will. Best case scenario, you give me food poisoning and I get to miss the Harvest Festival this year." It was a joke. Partially. Not really. "May the best sandwich win." A hand was held out for her to shake, to seal the deal.
Reaching to shake his hand, their fates were sealed.