"I'm so close to being yours, Won't you stay with me, Please...?" Who: Ari & Aspel What: Fighters are dumb and bleed a lot which makes little bards frustrated. Where: Theatre District/A Clinic/Ari’s flat When: Libra 7-8 Rating: PG-13-ish Status: Complete
A hole had been gashed in her side where a buckle for breastplate had been ripped loose leaving the armor on that side to shift away from her body when she moved in certain ways. It made carrying the person she’d picked up along the way long, painful, difficult, but even with bones in her right arm mostly crushed, Aspel had still managed to limp along. The pants she’d worn were torn where the material had peaked around her quickly strapped on was tattered, and she was fairly certain that something in her leg was broken, but it was hard to tell as many parts of her body mostly just felt… Well, there was either stabbing pain of an obscene scale, or she felt numb. Both of which she suspected were likely far from good. The breastplate had been bent and warped in unnatural ways - she probably had broken ribs as well - around her body. Really, it took all she could manage not to whimper as she managed to shoulder through the door. Had she dislocated her shoulder too? Or perhaps it was just all the cuts, gashes and bruises rearing their ugly heads.
Either way the civilian she’d slung over her shoulder was much worse for the wear, and with a hoarse voice she called out for a medic to take the person and treat them. Thankfully, even with the wounded that lingered, her call would not go unheard. A nurse rushed over, and Aspel placed the civilian down as directed. Instantly her heart leapt into her throat as she saw how soaked with blood the shirt of the person she’d been carrying was. They hadn’t appeared to have any particularly severe wounds, had they? Though, when the nurse looked at Aspel, she did seem to pale a bit, why would...
Oh.
That was her blood, wasn’t it?
In a few blazing seconds, there was a question to her - something about how she felt - which was waved off with an immediate, and passive ‘Fine, but they need help’ before she could even think about the words she was really saying even though her own head was swimming. Everything felt like it was trapped in some sort of clouded haze, and.... The smith moved to step back in attempts to assure she would not bother anyone as they came to move the civilian she’d brought in - which was a terrible mistake with how it made her stomach lurch - and with that the civilian was placed on a cot, and rushed into the back for treatment.
With that pressure finally away Aspel let out a low groan, and attempted to assure her stance remained firm even though she felt like the world was light, and spinning, and… Suddenly very cold. It was just a little lightheadedness… Nothing to get upset over, she’d just… Stand here for a moment, and… Let it pass. Though, with each second - every one of them feeling like nearly a decade - that dragged by, it made her that much more anxious. She attempted to clench her fists, but only one hand would obey - her right arm far too broken to be of any use with what she hoped wasn’t a glimpse of bone protruding from her forearm - and the murmuring of a spell started to form on her lips only to die.
Right. She’d used all her magick abilities helping those on the way and…
Oh Faram, the world just wouldn’t stop spinning.
Eyes slipped closed, and she felt her stance sway a bit.
Oh... that wasn’t good.
Someone’s arm came up to steady her, accompanied by a mutter in a familiar voice: “Every single time.” Perhaps someone else would have resigned herself to this by now, but Ari… well, she could only find some happiness in the fact that she’d recognized the bleeding woman about to topple headfirst into the counter and thus had had time to catch her.
Well, and the fact that instead of having to leave this clinic (her charge now safely delivered to become someone else’s problem), the person who was causing her the greatest anxiety had instead fallen (literally) into her lap.
Her expression was exasperated as she took in Aspel’s while face and bloody garments. “Please,” she said, “please, I’m going to give you the benefit of a doubt. You weren’t planning on going back out there like this, were you?”
“Hmm?” Eyes had remained closed, and Aspel swallowed, trying - hoping, praying really - to assure her stomach wouldn’t lurch again. She wasn’t sure she could keep herself from keeling over if it did. Slowly, after the other woman started talking again - only then - did Aspel realize it was Ari’s voice that was speaking to her, and slowly - as if dragging open in a daze from sleep - her eyes opened. Another swallow was taken in her slight daze, and brows furrowed.
“I can walk.” Which was probably one of the worst things she could have ever said in this situation, but… Aspel’s brain was malfunctioning even more than normal for her at this point. Especially, with the blood loss, and the fact that she was beginning to not feel the pain anymore. That must have meant the wounds were temporary, right….?
“You can walk to a cot,” Ari told her. To the white mage: “Please tell me there’s a cot.”
The woman gave Aspel a concerned look before saying, “We’re a bit overrun, but give me a quarter hour, perhaps just a bit longer, and I will ensure one of the physicians can come to your assistance. There’s a bench --”
“I know where,” Ari said. Certainly, she was interrupting, but not only was she worried about Aspel, she also realized the nurse was probably ready to run off to deal with other duties -- and indeed, the woman looked more grateful than irritated as she scampered off. “Come on,” Ari said to Aspel. “Change of plans, slightly: you can walk to a bench.”
“Certainly…” The word was firm in a tone of rebuttal, but… Her brain stopped there, losing whatever thought it was that she had had just second before. An attempt at looking down at Ari with a combination of disgruntledness and disapproving failed miserably as Aspel mostly looked wounded, broken, and, well… Pathetic.
“There is more to do.” The words were murmured passively, almost like a thought that needed follow up on even though she was likely too exhausted to do much of anything to really assist in the measure at all. As she was nudged along to the bench, the resistance was feeble and only momentary before she caved and began an awkward, pained limp towards the bench.
“And you can only do it if you can stand unaided,” Ari said, trying not to let her voice sound strained even as she attempted to support as much of Aspel’s weight as she could on the way to the bench, which was fortunately only a few steps away, set against the wall next to the open door, beside a window which showed no beasts.
For now.
“You know,” she said, trying to keep her tone conversational, somehow certain that berating Aspel right now would do neither of them any good, “I’ve become almost resigned to your heroics and subsequent broken everything, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry, seeing you like this. Let me help you down.” She attempted to do so once they reached the bench, doing what she could to ease the descent. At least the bench had a cushion on it, though it looked none too clean. She supposed more than one injured defender of the city had been sent to sit here tonight. “At least I didn’t have to go back out to look for you. If I have to see another one of those enormous plant things ever again, it will be too soon.” She still had her share of cuts and bruises from the altercation, too, though compared to Aspel she was practically ready to dance in the streets.
“I can.” Aspel attempted to insist. Which, well… She had carried a civilian, obviously she could stand on her own. Though, the fact that assistance standing was… Helpful… Was a different story, and…. Honestly - somewhere down deep inside of her - she wished she could just hide inside the clinic, inside some house with Ari, and Drake, and Mag, and Vivi, and never bother going outside to fight beasts again, but… That wasn’t what she was useful for, and if she denied whatever use she had, then what worth did she have?
“Far from heroic.” Aspel muttered, trying not to let the disdain for her own actions seep into her words, and she couldn’t help the grunt that was let out as she hit the seat of the bench. Now that she was finally sitting, the smith let out a sigh - a pained look attempted to be repressed as it streaked across her face regardless of her wishes - and tried to focus her eyes so that she could look over Ari.
“I am glad you are well.” Or… Well… At least as well as anyone could get right now.
“I do not think that word means what you think it means,” Ari said with a roll of her eyes. Aspel’s inability to clearly perceive her own actions as they were was something else to which she’d become accustomed by now. “Heroic, that is. As for well, I am that. A few bruises -- gone by tomorrow. I was in a bit of a situation but my… fire-happy friend helped me out. Nothing to worry about.”
Her hand came up to rest on Aspel’s cheek; after a moment, she leaned in and placed a light kiss on the smith’s rather grimy forehead. “I do wish you’d worry about yourself half as much as you worry about me.”
Ari was speaking, but… The focus it took to listen, and then the energy that she needed to expend to comprehend… Well. It was rather trying, all in all. Half a beat after the bard chided her for her understanding of words, a low ‘heh’ would emerge faintly. “I am glad.” Her voice slipped, starting to lower a bit as eyes threatened to close once again. Though… Even if her eyes didn’t want to stay open, her brain still managed to function well enough. At least, for now.
“I know not how.” And she couldn’t help the sorrowful smile that emerged with these words, and the feeling of Ari’s lips against her skin.
Ari sighed, “Think: ‘if Ari were in my place right now, would I be pleased with what she’s doing,’ and go from there? I wish I could provide better guidance, darling, but alas, I never had to re-learn self-preservation -- I’ve been quite focused on my own well-being since I was very young. It seems your guild tends to attract people who missed that childhood lesson, or who willfully discarded it later.” Infuriating, this shared characteristic.
And speaking of…
“I don’t suppose,” Ari ventured, “you saw Drake out there?” It had started late enough that perhaps they had both been at Bahamut Hall when it had begun and… well, he wasn’t quite as self-destructive as Aspel, but there were certainly occasions, and there had been malboros, of which vile creatures Drake seemed inordinately fond.
Ari’s words caused Aspel’s brow to furrow. That was… An interesting approach of sorts. Though, that sorrowful smile rose again, and thoughts that may have otherwise been kept at bay found their way out through her voice.
“Though you are worth more than I. A simple fact, I know.” And precisely how much sense that sentence made was another matter entirely since the flow of blood from the wound on her side - at the very least - had yet to stop. Then came the mention of Drake, and the smith’s face twisted up in a mixture of hurt feelings and insecurities that she couldn’t resist.
“I….” A beat as her brain tried to twist around the question, making full sense of it first. “Did not.”
“To you I am worth more.” It gave her heart a bit of a pang to think of it, though to Aspel, a stranger in the street was probably worth more, so perhaps it was not such a fine compliment. But from her… “To me,” she said softly, “you are worth no less than I. So think of that, the next time you try to wander into the fray when you can barely stand.”
And where was the doctor, anyway? Hadn’t it been long enough?
A sigh. “Once I’ve ensured you’re patched up, I’ll go look for him, then.” No one in the clinic had seen him -- and she’d asked. Someone like Drake was hard to forget. So she had to assume that meant that he wasn’t too badly hurt -- and not that he was dead in an alley.
Ajora, even with her eternal optimism, this city was getting to her.
“Much more.” Came a low, insecure confirmation. Even if Aspel wasn’t entirely sure what in Faram’s name that elusive more even supposedly was. Though, the softness in Ari’s voice, the…. Well… Aspel wasn’t sure what there was in it, but there was something that… “I… try to live…” Her gaze slipped away, volume dropping and a certain vulnerability slipped in. “For you.” Shifting the smith attempted to focus on moving the fingers of her right hand just to realize she wasn’t entirely sure she could.
With the next declaration from Ari, a low ‘Mm’ was given before quietly Aspel responded with. “As you wish.” A certain… Dismay in her voice, regardless of how much she tried to keep it out.
Do it for yourself, Ari didn’t say. She supposed that for now, having it be for her sake still accomplished the desired end. One could not be picky with the likes of Aspel Cassul.
So she simply sighed, patted Aspel’s hand lightly, and said, “I wish it wasn’t necessary, but, well, murderous plants. Someone needs to take care of you -- plural -- and I’ve apparently elected myself.” A pause before she added, “I do hope we’re still on for tonight, though my plans aside from dinner are likely to be put on hold for now. I can come back for you.” She thought a moment before offering, “Or, in the very unlikely event that they clear you, you could come with me once the doctor has finished.”
It wasn’t as though she didn’t want the company, or value protection, it was just…
Well, she had no idea if Aspel would even be permitted to leave here before nightfall, considering the state she was in. This level of mumbling and distraction went along with incredible pain, if she had to guess.
“Mm.” At the feel of Ari’s hand upon hers Aspel attempted to grasp at it to hold, even if only briefly as it would appear the nurse would finally find her way back to them, making comment about a doctor finally becoming available and - worriedly - gesturing to be followed. Aspel’s mouth opened, a glance back at Ari briefly earned before nodding at the woman and gave the bard a brief, and exhausted, smile.
“This will be short.” A squeeze was given to the bard’s leg with her good hand before Aspel stood - with a fair amount of difficulty - and followed the nurse off to the back to be patched up more - again - before heading back onto the field.
As she awoke in her own bed next to Aspel for the second afternoon in a row, Ari considered that really, the night prior could have gone much worse. By the time the clinic wait and treatment had concluded, the majority of the trouble had been mopped up, so she’d been spared watching Aspel undo the doctor’s work in another fight. Even better, Drake had finally responded to her increasingly worried messages, and though he’d been short with her and she had no doubt he was more hurt than he said, he’d also mentioned being with Merri, who thought a scratch was one step away from gangrene and amputation, so she had to assume he’d be badgered into taking care of himself. All this had meant that she’d had less trouble than anticipated talking Aspel into coming home with her. Again fortunately, the walk was not a long one, so even with clean-up in progress in the streets (Emillionites had gotten quite skilled at mopping up these sorts of messes, of necessity) and no hovercabs to be found, it had taken less than half an hour at a crawling pace.
About the only thing the bard had found particularly trying had been the stairs, but they’d managed to surmount those, too, eventually.
Bless having a supporting role -- she wasn’t called at all today, which was fortunate, as she felt rather achy and uncomfortable herself, despite the warmth of the bed and the company she had. She contemplated rising to get coffee, decided it was too much trouble. Though she had to be careful about it, she could arrange herself a bit closer to her bedmate and close her eyes again, deciding she was pleased to stay here until Aspel awoke. Though after a moment, she did clear her throat and start humming, soft and very low, until the aches in her bruises and cuts began to ease.
“Mmmm?” Came a low murmur of passive wakefulness. Really, sleep had been miserable, coming only in spurts and sections between the various bouts of pain caused by shifting in the wrong way, or simply the lingering aches that remained from everything the day before. Aspel was as patched up as the medics felt comfortable with after her considerable wounds - there had been murmurs of ‘How does anyone live through this?’ when she’d been treated the day before. Which had earned a laugh, and a comment about how she’d had worse in the past. This hadn’t eased the medics minds at all. Thank Faram Ari hadn’t been there. The other woman likely would have been even more displeased than everyone else that happened to be around her.
Aspel’s right arm was really only at half functionality at this point, and a grimace shot across her face as she attempted to move it, wanting to curl up with Ari more, but… Being hampered in the moment. Letting out a low grumble, and a heavy sigh, eyes opened slightly before Aspel shifted - very carefully - to allow her left hand to seek out any piece of the bard that it could find.
When Aspel’s hand brushed against her skin, Ari opened her eyes again, offering the grumbling woman a slight (and sleepy) smile. The melody came to its end -- she felt better, but she was uncertain if, with Aspel’s rather extreme injuries, the other woman would even have registered the very slight improvement to her own well-being -- and she said, “Good morning.”
She almost added something about ‘good’ being relative, but… well, they were alive and mostly whole and the windows hadn’t been smashed in again, so all things considered, this was a better start to the day than it could have been.
“Mmm.” With the shift, and being in contact with the bard again, Aspel attempted to settle in comfortably again, only to be rewarded with a spike of agony shooting through her body, and a grimace pulling tight across her face. Even though she attempted to restrain it, a slight whimper of pain still managed to slip out. The day before had been miserable, and she’d have to send a note of thanks to Cormac and Emily, or perhaps a gift basket of some sort but… Honestly, right now, all she wanted more than anything was to curl up with Ari and wait it out until all the pain went away.
After a few moments a low “Morning.” was managed, but eyes remained closed, and the smith continued to be still fearing another wracking of pain that may shoot through her body if she wasn’t careful when it came to moving about.
“Poor darling.” Often, these words were uttered as a mild tease, but at this moment, Ari truly meant them. She reached out to push Aspel’s hair away from her face, stroked her hand very lightly over the other woman’s cheek. And she’d thought she could still fight?
Was it any wonder that Ari occasionally accused her of suicidal tendencies?
“Do you need anything?” she offered after a few moments of companionable silence. “I can help with the pain a little, but I’m uncertain whether to offer a painkiller or actual healing.” It was entirely possible that the doctor had forbidden the latter.
The feel of Ari’s hand caused Aspel to relax a bit, and a low sigh was let out causing an ache surging through her chest at the heavy breath. This of course was frustrating all on its own. Why did injuries feel so much worse the day after the damage had been done? Pausing a moment at the question, the smith willed her brain to work, trying to think at all was a chore all of itself.
Clearing her throat, words seemed to form. “Water.” A beat. “Would be lovely, please.” Though, the rest of the offer earned another pause of consideration. What had the medics claimed the night before? Honestly, in the haze of violence and adrenaline, she could barely recall. “Painkillers may be best.” A pause. “For now.” Another beat. “I shall check in with the medics again later.”
Ari had to suppress a sigh -- she’d suspected that it was bad enough to make healing inadvisable, but the confirmation was still an unpleasant reminder of just how badly broken Aspel had gotten herself… again. She simply leaned in a moment to brush her lips against the other woman’s, however, then extricated herself from the pile of blankets, eschewing her robe in favor of getting to the kitchen and back faster. She returned not two minutes later with a tall glass of water in one hand and a small blue bottle in the other. She set the glass down, uncorking the bottle and offering it forward. “Sometimes, it pays to keep the things you hope you’ll never need again.”
The kiss was returned even if the shift Aspel did in order to return the kiss - unintentional as it was - earned the faintest wince. Ari exiting allowed the smith to release a held in sigh. What was she going to do with herself like this? There was no way to return to work in such condition, and poor Drake….. Drake…. A frown pulled at her lips. Though, the next thing she knew Ari was back, speaking and offering forth a bottle of some sort.
“Oh?” An eyebrow quirked as Aspel - very carefully in attempts to not egg on any of her other still somewhat fresh wounds - moved to take the bottle from the bard. “And this is?”
"Do you remember when I got shot?" She doubted Aspel would have forgotten it easily -- that whole experience had been rather memorable. "This is what I was given, big child that I am about pain. I can guarantee you'll barely feel anything if you down the whole bottle. The supply Aud brought home for me was rather larger than what I ended up needing, once I started helping the healing along." Patience had never been her strong suit.
A small, amused smile formed on her lips. "Don't you trust me to give you what you ask for, darling? It doesn't taste that bad."
There was a nod and a low 'Mm' given at the question but after the explanation of the situation was given all it earned in response was an "Ah." Of understanding. Though at the smile, and - what Aspel assumed to be - a tease the smith couldn't help but feel a little hurt.
"Of course I do." In fact the words might have even sounded a bit pouty. After all this time, and everything they'd been through might Ari sincerely question Aspel's ability to trust her?
“Well then, sweetheart, bottoms up,” Ari said, holding out the small bottle once again. “You’ll feel better after, I promise.” And possibly just a little bit loopy, but that would be rather adorable in its own right… and really, Aspel probably needed to stay in bed for most of the day anyway, so why not this bed?
“Of course.” And there was the briefest, faintest twinge of a thought that flickered through the back of her head of how easy it would be for Ari to poison her in this moment, and - honestly - that Aspel would let the other woman poison her without a second thought. Which…. Was rather disturbing all of its own. Reaching out the smith took up the bottle, and with a faint smile, downed the contents in one gulp before cringing slightly.
“As lovely as a potion.” There was an undoubtedly forced smile that followed before the smith cleared her throat. “About how long will it take to kick in?” A beat. “And are there any side effects of which I should be aware?” …. Well… Maybe these were questions she should have asked before downing the contents of the bottle but…. Oh well.
“It tastes slightly better than a potion,” Ari disagreed. Sweeter, anyway, though any attempt to make it taste like anything but medicine did fail spectacularly, as was the norm, really. “Give it ten, twenty minutes. You’ll get a nice floating sensation. No side effects particularly, aside from likely silliness, but,” a smile as she offered forward the glass of water to wash down the taste, “I think we could stand some silliness. I don’t have anywhere to be, so if you suddenly get the urge to discuss clouds or something of the sort, I’m certain I can accommodate. In any case, unlike the pills I have around for slightly dulling hangovers, this will actually make you feel better, so I thought it the best available option.”
“Not by much.” The sweetness made it just feel… sticky to the smith. A slight nod was given to the timeframe given though Aspel couldn’t help but feel a tiny shred of dread at the notion of ‘silliness’ Ari proclaimed. That sort of thing wasn’t particularly a…. forte for the smith, even in all her years. The glass of water was taken up with a sip taken thoughtlessly.
“Ah, well, then I suspect I will simply need to suck up any potentially wounded self pride and pray that any interesting stories that may occur simply stay between you and I, no?” There was a smile that followed, this one a little uncertain admittedly. Had Aspel ever acted like that around Ari? She.. Couldn’t really recall a specific time in her history with the other woman that something like that had happened where it wasn’t… Controlled in some way, but… Well, it seemed as though today was the day for different adventures of a sort, now wasn’t it?
“I won’t tease you,” Ari said. “Much as it pains me to make such a promise, this once, you’ll get a pass. And I wouldn’t mention it to anyone else, of course.” Having handed off the glass, she carefully got back into bed, trying her best not to jostle the mattress. She knew perhaps more than she would have liked about sharing a bed with someone who had serious injuries.
Her life, on occasion, still bewildered her, but it was what it was.
“I suppose,” she said, once she had pulled the blanket up for warmth once more, “that we are now due for a few weeks of idyllic peace and quiet. I wish I could predict these things. I might start planning trips around them. She paused. “Only then I’d have to talk you into going with me, and somehow, I feel like this wouldn’t work nearly as well as I thought it would, when I conceived of the idea.”
“Taking pity on me then?” Aspel attempted to razz the other woman gently as eyes roamed over the glass of water still in her hand. Considering her current state of… Injury… Paired with how parched she felt, it would make sense to drink the whole thing, but… The smith just wasn’t quite sure her stomach could hold up to that idea at this point, and, well, sitting up was getting rather exhausting.
“Ah.” A beat. “One can certainly hope.” Or at least, she undoubtedly did. Time to recover would be rather lovely about now. A low amused scoff slipped out at Ari’s notion of planning trips around the attacks, though an eyebrow quirked at the notion of the bard trying to drag Aspel off with her. “Oh?” There was a hint of amusement, with a much larger dose of curiosity lingering there. “I must admit a fear of trips with you after our history of outings not being particularly kind. Perhaps trouble simply follows me where I go, no?”
Ari wrinkled her nose in displeasure. “What an utterly depressing thought,” she said. “I suppose we oughtn't choose anywhere too remote. Or perhaps we ought to simply move around constantly, so that trouble has a hard time tracking us down. I’m certain I could find a solution. I’m not particularly fond of jumping rooftops with a possibly agoraphobic chorister who thinks she’s my apprentice to get away from carnivorous, magical plants. I’ll think on it, if you agree to at least consider going next time I get the whim. I’ve yet to work out the schedule of catastrophes, after all.”
“Ah.” A beat. “Unfortunate.” Was the only initial comment regarding the lack of remote options in their - potential - future lives…. Future lives… Right. Moving on. “I see no reason as to why consideration should not be at least an option.” And those words would have been accompanied by a shrug, and almost were, until a shooting - not quite as terribly as before - pain reminded her how ill advised it was to move her right arm. Though, there was a slight sense of floating starting to settle in. That must have been the potion which Ari had nearly guilted her with… Not that Aspel was opposed to it but…
“Would you imagine if that were how a vacation were to end up?” A beat. “Rooftop jumping.” Another beat. “What if you ended up on a roof so high you could step upon the clouds?” Another pause. “Where would you jump next?”
Oh dear.
To Ari’s credit, her smile widened only a little. “I have always hoped that I would eventually get high enough to fly,” she answered easily. “I suppose it’s a nice dream to think the clouds would serve as a springboard to launch me into the sky. It is likely fortunate that I have yet to encounter a place this high when not safely upon the deck of an airship. Though I have jumped out of one, actually,” she admitted, thinking back with only a twinge of sadness to the sorts of adventures Miles had taken her on (he had quite literally taken her to simultaneously the nicest and the most terrible places, sometimes in the span of the same day).
“I’d certainly enjoy a walk among the clouds, provided I knew I wasn’t going to fall through them. I may not be afraid of heights, but I do not relish the thought of meeting the ground at high velocity, either.”
“Mag likes to fly.” Aspel passively commented as she raised her left hand up, palm facing down, and made it - slightly rockingly - glide through the air. “Whoosh.” A smile pulled at her lips as her good hand tilted, starting to move back in the direction from whence it came. “Whoosh went Warwick’s wings.” A low, only slightly, repressed chuckle shook her frame a bit. Though, the notion of Ari falling earned a frown. “No falling for you. I said no.” There was a low wordless grumble as Aspel shifted, trying to put an arm around the bard and pull her close.
Ari attempted to facilitate the one-armed hug, though after a moment, she said, “Come on darling, lie back, I’ve a better idea.” Fortunately, Aspel seemed amenable to the suggestion, and so Ari could arrange herself once more along the other woman’s side without jostling her arm -- or hopefully any other injured part of her body, though there were quite a lot of those. In any case, she could only do her best.
“I suppose,” she said, “that if I ever took a walk in the clouds, I’d simply trust you to catch me and pull me up if I began to fall. It does take the worry out of the situation for me to know that you’d ensure such an adventure did not end in tragedy. Now I can simply enjoy imagining how pleasant it might be.”
“I said I would always catch you.” With the - somewhat mumbled - words, Aspel shifted, leaning to place a kiss on the top of Ari’s head. The words were gentle, yet clearly firm, a promise that the smith had clung to and appeared - for whatever reason - not to be letting go.
“So you did,” Ari agreed with a small smile. In lieu of any clear explanation of her feelings, Aspel had given her this -- and perhaps it was better that way, for now. After all, even discussing the subject turned Ari into alternately a bumbling idiot or an irrationally cranky one, neither of which were particularly flattering moods to be in. “I’ll continue holding you to that promise, don’t worry.”
But for today, she would take the role of caregiver upon herself. it did not come to her as naturally as it seemed to come to Aspel, but she could manage one way or another, even if the only falling she might stop Aspel from this afternoon was falling out of bed.
“For now, however, I think I’ll refrain from jumping off of anything,” she joked lightly. “I wouldn’t wish to spoil such a pleasantly restful day. I’m certain adventure can wait.”
“I pray so.” Was the only - rather easy - confirmation given to Ari’s holding her to that promise as well. In fact, for a moment, Aspel simply fell quiet, seemingly letting the conversation drop for the time being as she attempted to relax into the bed with Ari near. That was, of course, until a thought seemed to strike out of no where at all.
“Jumping should only occur in things which do not include the adventure of jumping to conclusions. Conclusions are often not as soft as clouds, blankets, or bards.” And Aspel seemed fairly assured of this statement, even punctuating it with slight nod as she finished speaking. “It is strange how many stories have conclusions, but that does not often align with life. Why are conclusions so clear in tales, and not in days?”
“Because,” Ari said thoughtfully, “stories, even tragedies, are condensed and idealized reflections of reality. If the story is any good, all the… fluff is gone. Detours are left out. That simplifies things. The conclusion is generally known long before the first words are penned, too. I suppose life would be clearer if it could be told like a story, but I have to assume, it wouldn’t be nearly as interesting.”
Aspel’s shoulder received a light kiss, and Ari said, “I think some of my most valuable -- and unexpected -- life experiences have come from detours. So I suppose living with murky conclusions isn’t all bad -- I wouldn’t want to know how it all ends, anyway. I’ll keep it a surprise.”
“Reality ought to take lessons.” There was a definite tone in that. “While I may not want to know the end, I would at least like to understand the present.” There was something begrudging underneath the words spoken, and her expression even turned a bit pouty, something that would have been kept at bay if the situation were presented in any other sort of light. Though the kiss on her shoulder did soften the expression some.
“I suspect you have a point much that of swords.”
As Aspel’s grasp on sense and her grammar deteriorated, Ari was hard pressed to keep her promise not to tease. But, after all, she had done this to the other woman, in a manner of speaking. hough the way that Aspel’s face had relaxed did indicate that the pain, at least, had faded along with the sense, so it was all really for the best.
“I am both soft and pointy,” she said. “Simultaneously, or perhaps alternately, depending on situation. I will say, though, that sometimes the middle doesn’t make sense until the end. Life and stories have that much in common.” She sighed. “If you had told me a few years ago that I’d be where I am now -- figuratively, not literally -- I’d have laughed, or possibly considered moving away. So perhaps it’s better that I never knew at all.”
“The end ought to know better than to confuse the middle. If it is going to point, or soft, that should tell you something of the nature of the beast. It ought not to be so terribly mixed, and mangled in confusing.” And perhaps her words slurred just the tiniest bit while multiple thoughts came out in one rather nonsensical burst. Though…
“Are you happy though?”
Funny, because this was a question Ari had spent a great deal of time examining lately. She had an answer, though, because of that: “If I weren’t, I would have changed something. I hold my own happiness to be of extremely high importance. So -- yes. Unexpected though it is, I am actually quite happy, these annoyingly frequent calamities notwithstanding.”
You’re a large part of that, she did not say. Really, there were quite a few things she never did find the place to say.
Though thinking along those lines a moment, she did steel her courage for one question, hoping that if it went terribly awry, Aspel simply… wouldn’t recall when the medicine wore off: “Are you?”
The initial answer earned a slight smile from the smith. “I am glad.” And really, she truly was. When Ari was happy, it just… Made things seem easier to handle, to deal with as a whole. It made the world feel… Just a bit… Lighter. However, the next question caused Aspel’s brows to furrow, before her face twisted up a bit.
“Confused.” A beat. “I seem always confused of late.” Though, that wasn’t what Ari had asked, now was it? That earned another slight pause. “I suspect if I were too unhappy, too scared, I would have found the wings to fly far before now. I always have been good at running.” And those words were a bit heavier than she really cared to be right now, but… “But you are here, as is Mag, and Vivi, and Drake.” Another beat. “So here I shall stay.”
It wasn’t quite the answer Ari wanted to hear, but at the same time, it was also more or less the one she had expected. Aspel and happiness did not seem to be on friendly terms most days. She supposed that ‘not too unhappy’ might be a rather positive measure for the other woman, which was frustrating in its own way, but not something she felt equipped to tackle just now.
One issue at a time seemed best.
“What is confusing, exactly?” she asked. “Most recently, that is.” Really, there could be any number of answers to this… but she had very little insight into Aspel’s thoughts, in the end, and she found she couldn’t properly guess, unless it had to do with her and her bungled confession, and weren’t they past that already? “You needn’t tell me if you prefer not to, of course.”
Aspel shifted, bringing her good hand and arm about in attempts to come in more contact with the bard. “You make me warm.” A beat. “And Mr. Liu.” A slight frown tugged at one corner of her mouth before falling away. Really, with how broken her train of thought, and words might seem, it was a miracle they’d gotten this far at all.
“I would hope that my warmth might contribute to you being more happy than not,” Ari mused. “Though I am uncertain how to make it less… confusing.” She was uncertain, actually, how it could be a source of confusion at all. “And Mister Liu, oh dear. That seems rather formal.” Was something wrong there? She had not pride previously, having considered it to be no concern of hers how they conducted their affairs with each other, but… “Has he managed to irritate you recently?”
“Mm, not your warmth. You make me warm.” Because of course this made perfect sense in Aspel’s current, rather odd, state of mind. Though, at the inquiry on Drake, Aspel couldn’t stop her face from dropping into a distraught sort of pout. “I thought he no longer wanted me.” There was even a bit of distress in her voice. “And now things are quiet queer with us two.” And there was a hint of whine now even. “I know not what to do.”
“But why -- oh.” Suddenly, Ari could imagine exactly why. The distinction between warmth and making Aspel warm forgotten, she seized on this new train of conversation instead, because at least here, she could understand exactly what was going on. Though then again… had Drake simply not told her? Ari knew it wasn’t her secret to share, but even so… “He was acting rather… ridiculous for a time,” she said at last. “I don’t think it was anyone’s problem but his. He’s been... better, hasn’t he?” Courtesy of many, many walks. “It wasn’t anything to do with you at all.”
“You have spoken with him about it?” she prompted. Drake couldn’t lie to save his life, so he would have had to tell her the truth or something like it. Unless he had made up a lie so stupid as to rouse Aspel’s anger to a point where she did not wish to speak with him at all…
“Mm.” Though there was still that dismayed pout present even with the confirmation of speaking with him. “Things are still queer. We spoke yesterday morning for the first time in…” When was the last time they spoke before then? Faram, she could hardly remember, everything had been so crazy and stressful. “A while.”
Ari was hard pressed not to sigh. Honestly, maybe she oughtn’t have left them alone after all! “Well, that seems awfully silly of both of you. A different kind of silly than conversations of walking upon clouds. What did he say?”
“He explained the babies.” A beat. “And his summon.” Surely if she knew at this point, Ari must know as well. After all, Drake and Ari had always been much closer than… Well… A lot of things Aspel might be able to name.
“That stupid cactus,” Ari said, relieved that she wouldn’t have to evade. “I would like to make some sort of highly distilled alcohol from that stupid cactus. Then I would drink it with great pleasure. I have realized recently that all in all, I am very lucky. At least I am not told how to conduct my personal affairs by an incessant matchmaker in my mind. Poor Drake.”
“Mm.” Though really, this didn’t much answer, or solve any of the issues Aspel was still having with him. Certainly their misunderstanding was in the open now, but… Where did they go from here after mutually avoiding each other for weeks? “I am certainly glad ye of great darkness and creep has never voiced thoughts over my sexual proclivities. Even if he does speak of much else.”
“Thank Ajora for small mercies,” Ari said with a shake of her head. Though that wasn’t really the topic, now was it? “But Drake. Aside from the odd behavior and the cactus, which was the cause of the odd behavior -- if you just talk to him, things are bound to be less confusing, aren’t they?” A pause. “You’ve always gotten along particularly well.” And what it said that she was counseling one lover about another hardly mattered, either.
“We did talk. Yesterday. Some.” Aspel’s brain tried to piece the whole mess together. Drake had avoided her for weeks, and then she’d been so upset that she’d taken to drinking more than normal almost nightly, even when Ari was about, and avoided him, and then there had been the trip with Mag, and now… This. “On the network in the morning.” There was still that pouty quality to her speech and features though. “I am uncertain of anything that might be or not. It has been a month of mess.”
“Well, I’ll just… wish you the best, I suppose. I do hope you manage to patch it up. I mean that, truly.” As much as she conducted her relationships with the two of them in quite different manners… the thought that they might suddenly stop getting along didn’t seem to sit well with her at all. “Everything seems to be a mess off and on, lately,” she added. “I think we’re meant to find a way to live through it. Or around it, I suppose.”
“I know not of around or through. All that seems to work in any manner of late has flown the coop and I know not how to catch it. I tried nets and letting go, but it continues to taunt me regardless of what I do.” And once again there Aspel went with the not making a lick of sense outwardly.
“That sounds like an unfortunate problem to have,” Ari said. She didn’t entirely understand the problem (perhaps she might ask sometime later, when Aspel had returned to herself, and perhaps she might get an explanation, but not now), but it was clear there was one. “You could try luring them back.” Whatever they were. “Or, perhaps, forget about them all and start with something new, though depending on what that would entail, I may not approve of my own advice.” She stroked her hand very lightly over Aspel’s skin under the blanket, trying to avoid anything like pain, but wanting the contact, suddenly. “If I can help you, I’d like to.”
“I wish to not be so very confused.” There was that pouting once again. “Nothing seems to make sense.” Aspel shifted, leaning into the touch as it seemed a comfort of sorts, and wanting whatever other sort of contact she could get. Ari’s last sentence caused the pout to fade, and eyes to slip closed. “I do like the warmth you make.” A beat, before starting to speak again. “Stay with me so it remains?” There was a lingering hesitence in the words, a certain insecurity there even if the desire behind the request was obviously quite sincere.
“I intend to stay.” Perhaps it was Aspel’s semi-coherent state, but Ari found herself capable of adding, “As long as you want me to. Possibly longer. You may have to pry me off. It’s your own fault, you know.” She had made her peace, more or less, but that did not mean that she didn’t feel ill-at-ease with it all sometimes. “Hopefully, that much makes sense to you, at least.”
Aspel’s good hand sought out whatever piece of Ari she could grab rather clumsily, and held on as tight as she found herself able to at the moment. “I may rather like an Ari barnacle for a long time. Longer than I see. Which I am rather dull, so perhaps it is not long, but I believe I can see far, and in that belief I see not you without me… But… I know not what glue has stuck us together?”
It was another almost-confession, and Ari found it suited her quite well enough. It did not matter if Aspel didn’t have the right words (Faram knew Ari did not), only that they had an understanding. “The very, very sticky sort,” Ari therefore replied with a small smile. “I for one am glad of it. And you’re bound to be around a long time, if I have to follow you about with my mandolin, keeping you from harm, but no matter how far you look, I don’t think what you see is likely to change. So I suppose that’s one thing that oughtn’t be confusing, at least, among all the other things which are.”
“That is good.” There was a slight yawn as Aspel shifted, getting more comfortable in the bed while starting to fade. “I would loathe to lose my barnacle.” Perhaps she would have been more nervous if she’d fully realized what she was saying. Faram, the words likely would have never left her lips if she had, but… That was indeed not the case, and in this instance, a warmth welled in her chest - as it often did when the bard was around - and Aspel began to drift off into sleep.