serefin "tranavia's greatest idiot" meleski (meleski) wrote in valloic, @ 2023-11-26 12:22:00
SEREFIN MELESKI
EVIE FRYE
WHERE The Frye Train WHEN This morning, November 26 WHAT Evie finally comes back to the train after not wanting to face what her Other Self had done during Fight Club, and Serefin gives her a Big Honesty Talk™ (AKA they have some growth.) STATUS Complete! WARNINGS Some vague mentions of violence, but relatively tame.
Serefin was making a game out of it: what could he do, and for how long, before he needed to ask someone for help. Even with magical healing, there was a little ache when he stretched his arm too far to reach a shelf or bent too far down to grab something off the floor. Lifting Graciela had been a chore he had not been anticipating. Holding her for a long period of time caused his joints unexpected stress. He had quickly passed her back to her parents to avoid any concerned looks from them or his boyfriend.
What he really should have done was listen to the doctor's orders and stop being excessive post-fight club. He had his knee blown out and a dislocated shoulder, on top of getting wailed on, all courtesy of Evie. In hindsight, he should have known better. After Kellach's fight with Jacob, and dark edge both the Frye twins had taken after the most recent strange bout in Vallo, Serefin made a mistake. But he had never been known for his overt intelligence in matters of emotion. Being on the receiving end of a particularly brutal beating from her had been a sobering moment.
But he knew that wasn't her, and Serefin didn't want to keep bringing it up or rubbing it in her face. Evie had been through enough in the last month. Blood and bone though, his whole body started to ache. And Serefin had to call it. He sat down on the nearest seat—a worn-in chaise that had come with the train and managed to never move spots during the various renovations—and immediately put his leg up. His fingers kneaded deep into his leg, as if he could massage the pain out.
After this, he was going to have to put in more hours of training. He might actually need to put more hours into training with Evie. If she'd let him. That was a possibility that hadn't occurred to him until this moment.
From behind him, Serefin heard the door close but not open. He should have learned by living with a group of assassins that he should be more alert and not keep his back to doors, but he turned casually in the chair, slinging his arm over the back to see Evie standing there.
He paused his ministrations, with a flourish of his hand in her direction. "I'm certain you thought you were alone, and if you would like to walk right by, I can be silent. Pretend I am not even here."
Evie had been treating all of this with kid gloves. She didn’t remember any of it, but had managed to piece together quite a bit between the event at the Underground and what others had told her.
She hated every moment of it. It was one thing to give Serefin a difficult time with teasing, but another entirely to be the sort of person that dislocated a shoulder after a fight was over. That was something they did to their enemies, not friends. Serefin was being his normal, sarcastic self and she both appreciated that and found it utterly maddening.
Evie wished desperately that he’d yell at her, she deserved that much.
It was probably obvious that she winced as she spotted him, he’d just looked over at her and there she was, feeling bad about entering a room with him in it. She’d spent the last night at the Waverider, the first time she’d gone there since Sara’s departure and it was because she was avoiding facing her friends. “It’s alright,” This was his home just as much as it had ever been hers. “Do you need anything? A cold pack?”
Serefin's casual perusal of Evie might have been strange if he weren't looking for something. A lifetime ago, Serefin was someone who had spent time watching people. Little gestures in their moods, a tell in a lie, something to extort from them in the name of his country and his people and war. He had stopped doing so after his first death, and felt it unnecessary after the subsequent ones. It was an effort in failure, not being able to tell when and where someone was going to kill him. In Vallo, he didn't have to worry about death at all.
But now looking at Evie, who had a side to her that had been taunted out under another lifetime, he wondered if he should have been looking at her differently. Despite his attempts though, Serefin couldn't. And that was why he was nursing an aching knee and sore shoulder. Evie, despite all his staring and sussing out, would never be a threat to him. Not in the way that their enemies, shared or otherwise, were.
He shook his head. "No, I'm quite alright here. The chaise is comfortable and as you know, I have a fondness for lying about when no one needs me for anything," Serefin said, gesturing at her. "Unless you need me for something? I am at your service, Dame Frye."
And then because he was someone who forgot about tact in many social situations, much to the court's chagrin, "You didn't stay here last night. Is this a one off time, or are you looking for other accommodations? I would hate to chase you off your own train." Serefin had not missed her wincing upon seeing him.
Evie wasn’t surprised he’d noticed she spent the night elsewhere, as it was just as likely Jacob had said something. But she did immediately feel a little bad about that, and inclined her head slightly in apology. “I’d rather you just rest.” She moved forward, to her target - the pile of mail that was on the front table across from the chaise lounge. It had been adding up while they had been indisposed, and she needed to tend to it before it got out of control.
It gave her the chance to turn her back to him, which was a slightly welcome respite, even if she felt that pang of guilt again. “I slept on the waverider. I wanted to give you some space, and it was quiet there. I also wanted to reassure myself that she hadn’t gained access while I was gone.”
Because they were technically two people. Different people, with completely different ideals. And the waverider managed to be Evie’s sacred place for her memory of Sara. “She didn’t.” Evie confirmed before Serefin could ask, and pulled out a knife to serve as her letter opener.
Oh, she was avoiding him. Even now with her back turned, Serefin was feeling a particular unsettling feeling wash over him. He never had someone avoid him before, and certainly not in the way Evie was for something another version of herself did. He let her talk, explaining where and why she was gone last night. And though relieved that the Waverider was not compromised, he didn't think that required staying overnight inside of it.
He made a little hm noise, and grew quiet, giving his knee and perfunctory rub. Serefin knew pressing Evie when she wasn't ready was only a recipe for disaster—but Serefin was his own sort of walking catastrophe, and had no qualms about stirring things up. Especially for the sake of his friendship with Evie.
"You cannot keep your back turned to me forever. I can still talk at you, and you're still going to hear all the things I have to say about what happened. And as much as I do love sweeping problems under the rug until they inevitably blow up on my face, this seems immediately reconcilable and I'd rather it not fester. As you know, I can be persistently annoying and fully intend to be about this." Serefin paused, in consideration, before he reached out to tug at Evie's sleeve.
"I know it wasn't you. So why are you taking the blame as though it was?"
Evie’s shoulders slumped. She hadn’t expected Serefin to reach out, to touch her, as light as it was. She’d expected he would want to avoid her, after what had happened, that perhaps he might flinch, and then Evie would back away and stay at more than arm’s length.
“You’ve never been the type to do anything anyone expects of you.” Evie said it out loud the moment she also internally realized it, with a little awe in her voice.
She still wasn’t sure she could look at him, because tears were starting to prick against the back of her eyes. “From what I’ve heard, she was everything I’m against. But she also was a path we could have easily taken, a ruthlessness we’ve had, with some, who we deemed deserved it. She was what we hunt, what we’ve been trained to hunt. But that mindset and idealization is one that the Assassins could so easily slip into, thinking it’s for the greater good.”
Finally, Evie glanced back at Serefin. “You, none of you, should be a casualty of the greater good. Or at risk of being injured by us.”
"I am, indeed, unpredictable, Dame Frye. It is part of my charm," Serefin said, as sat up more in his seat. If she had started to leave, Serefin was ready to chase her, but he was thankful when she stayed in place, even if they hadn't been facing one another. Serefin had felt that equally similar feeling of shame and confusion when he had grappled with a god. There was no way that he would allow Evie to fall into line of thought.
"Allow me to lay out my observations because at the risk of sounding quite presumptive, you might be biased in this situation." Serefin held up a finger to keep her from speaking, and that alone was a risk to tell Evie Frye what to do. But he had hoped, given their current situation, she might listen to him for once.
"I have known you and your lovely brother for nearly four years now. It is not a lifetime, no, but it is a long enough time to make my own examinations of your character. I have been privy to many, many bouts where the greater good was in mind. My own self included." Serefin made a little head gesture to as if to indicate the Velyos situation when she had been the one to plunge the knife into him for the greater good. And it had been.
"And you have been assassins that whole time we have known each other, and your twenty-odd years prior to that. All of which to say you had not given into that idealization then. You know where the metaphorical line lies. This other you did not. And knowing that makes you a far more superior human being than a possibility of you. A possibility you did not take. Because I am talking to you right now, who worries about crossing the line. Who worries about injuring her friends and family trying to do what is best."
He grabbed for her hand then, to squeeze it in comfort. "I cannot read auras like you and Jacob, but even without being able to, I know that yours is good. Not a Templar one in sight. And I would continue to risk it all for this Evie Frye."
Evie was usually very good at keeping her emotions in check. It was one of the first things her father had taught her and she’d practiced, because emotional women were subject to far more judgment than men.
She did not cry often. Or let her anger get the better of her. It was a weakness most days, to let herself feel that much. She’d done it recently on Jacob’s shoulder when Sara left, but she knew her brother had her back, always, and that she was safe there.
Evie felt safe here, now, in this moment. She didn’t know what to say to all of that without choking, but that was a marker of the tears gently streaming down her face as she turned towards Serefin. And what would she even say to all of that? Words that she didn’t even know she needed, but helped bring off the pressure weighing down her shoulders so easily. She tried to find something, anything, scrambled for words that she was typically so very good at, but still came up short.
“May I hug you?” She knew she probably could have just done that in this moment, but it seemed polite to ask first and not make any sudden movements. Evie wasn’t sure she could handle him flinching after a heartfelt moment.
For one brief, fleeting moment, Serefin thought that he overstepped. He was not normally one to make grand statements on people and their inherent personality traits, and especially not Evie's. But it felt wrong to let her stand there and assume she was somehow, underneath all the good she had done, a bad person. If anything, it was just a bad day—or days, really. And Serefin had plenty of those. He could even share.
But it was the tears on her face that caused him to immediately stand from his lounging. Serefin could be a rakish type, never sounding serious and always at the expense of himself, but this was no time for all his pontificating. He only muttered out a soft, "Dame Frye, I—" before she asked her question. His apology died on his lips. And without a smile, he nodded, solemnly. "I thought you would never ask."
He embraced her. There was no hesitation, no fear. Evie had become his friend in those few years—and blood and bone, he was thankful for it or it would have made his relationship with Jacob painfully awkward. And of course, most of them would be dead if she hadn't cared for his friendship. Serefin hooked his chin over her shoulder, and didn't let go.
"You are a tough one, Evie. But tough does not mean alone. I will be here to remind you, kindly and annoyingly. As though I am another sibling you did not intend to have but now you are stuck with."
Evie gave a little laugh that was half-choked, but she started getting a handle on the tears. They calmed, as did she, with arms wrapped around Serefin in the train. If Jacob had entered the compartment they were in, she had little doubt that he’d walk forward to wrap his arms around both of them to join in. And he would have been welcome.
For someone who didn’t particularly enjoy physical affection from just anyone, Evie didn’t let go easily, or quickly. She instead wrapped her arms around him and smoothed both open palms on his back. It was a warm, inviting hug, and she had desperately needed it. Somehow it rejuvenated her and Evie laughed again, but this one was less choked-up and more clear. “I am stuck with you, aren’t I? Speaking of,”
She pulled away, but kept a hand on his shoulder, just in case he needed a little leverage for his knee that she was certain she would be mindful of until the end of time. “When are you going to propose to my brother and actually become family?”
"Ah, your segue into the proposal conversation is one to be remarked upon, Dame Frye," Serefin said, with a grin. He would be lying if he said they had not discussed it. But it had been fleeting—a promise here, a mention there—nothing that felt like taking the steps forward in a meaningful way. Serefin had never felt the pressure of it, because Tranavia had always put the pressure on him instead. In Vallo, with Jacob, there wasn't an urgency before, and now the question had made him consider it again.
"Let it be known my lack of engagement to your brother does not indicate my lack of love for him. For now you will need to suffer through me acting like your family without any sort of legal and binding constraints. Some might consider that a boon, I consider it a challenge for how much I can get away with, with you." Serefin smiled, knowing that he tested limits with Evie constantly, and it was an empty threat. The worst he could do was prod her needlessly until she gave in or until she tried to take his fingers off. (Which he would ultimately deserve if it became that bad.)
He did let her go, and sat back down on the chaise. But he quickly put a hand up to keep her from worrying—it was partly his knee and partly because Serefin's default was encompassing the word leisurely in human form.
"I can stand, I just prefer not to. Do you ever lounge, Evie? Just laze about? As your future brother-in-law, I heavily suggest you do. For your health." He gestured with one hand for her to come closer and sit beside him. "You can even open your mail you have insisted on opening over here."
Evie pushed lightly on his good shoulder. “I’ll make sure you have a prenup, when it eventually does happen.” She was sure that whatever they decided, it would work for the pair of them, but only hoped that it worked better than her optimistic outlook on marriage had.
But she wasn’t going to bring that down upon the two of them. Whatever internal agony Evie still harbored - and likely would for a long time - no one else on the train deserved to have their happiness dashed with her recent bout of pessimism. They might all continue to remain here for decades to come. That was a better thought than being bitter that they would get to remain and Sara didn’t. Evie wouldn’t entertain that one for more than a flash, not when it involved her brother.
“This chaise was here before you were, it’s often used for lounging and reading. I do know how to relax.” Not that she did it often, but Evie was still good at settling in with a book and letting the hours waste away from her before she fell asleep.
But even with her sarcasm, she sat, mail in hand. “It’s mostly bills. Speaking of, remind me when we’re at the club to give Diego a bonus for last week’s antics.”
Serefin made a big production of agreeing with her, even if he thought only partially true. He didn't doubt that Evie knew how to relax, but it seemed like a private thing, something she didn't share with others. And Serefin had been determined that around him, it didn't need to be. They could co-exist, peacefully, in a space that was her home. It had been all part of his plan for Evie to not hold on to the last week. If she couldn't be comfortable around him, then they were going to have problems as he constantly haunted the places she was the most.
He inched over to give her space, and stretched his arms around the back and legs out in front. He was feeling better, less aches. Serefin assumed that it was because the uneasiness between him and Evie had somehow psychologically contributed. Now that it was healing, so were his lingering injuries. Or he could have been full of shit, but he liked the optimism.
"I could tell him you owe him, and see if he asks. I'd like to watch him verbally stumble over all the reasons he would never take it. And then you can add the money to his pay and he will get all flustered, you know with his fuck this and fuck that. Et cetera, et cetera," Serefin said, with a vague gesture to all the curse words.
"Does this mean you will be staying on the train this evening instead of the Waverider? We could all be together for dinner. I insist."
She still didn’t look relaxed, but at least she was sitting, if that counted for anything. But she wasn’t the type to have gotten close before all of-- this, either, when she could leave the cozying to Jacob. They were much more the types to lounge all over each other than she would ever be.
“I’ve no doubt he’ll argue and fuss, but I do run all of the payroll, so I have my means. Worst case scenario is I give it to Lila.” Or add it to the savings they’d already begun squirreling away for Graciela’s future.
A glimmer came to her eye, the same one that had been missing for well over a week now. “Or I’ll remind him distribution of wealth is very much an Assassin trait while hoarding money for one’s own power and gain is Templar-like. That might do it.” At the very least it’d probably bring out that flustered look Serefin was going for. “I’ll bring it up over dinner, once I’ve had two glasses of wine.” That was, at the very least, solid confirmation that she wasn’t going anywhere for the time being.
Serefin had hoped Evie wouldn't turn him down for dinner. And better yet, they were plotting against Diego for his own benefit, which had always been a favorite pastime of his. It felt like things were slowly edging back to normal.
"Wine we can do, easily," Serefin said, as he leaned on Evie's shoulder. He smiled, pleased and conspiratorial. As if she didn't know what he was about to ask. "Can I interest you in a Tranavian red?"