[ While he pours the wine, she makes him a plate. Slices of grilled meat and spiced meatballs on a skewer, chunks of charred vegetables, beans stewed in a rich tomato sauce, greens and rice, tangy cheese. She exchanges it for the wine, and then settles in beside him with her own, shoulder to shoulder. ]
I'm glad. I've always liked it. It's large enough to feel lost in, but relatively clean and quiet for a city of its size. And this has been home for a long time.
[ She's quiet a moment, eating, and then after a sip of wine pauses, head cocked. There's nothing there but the rain on the windows. ]
Isn't it nice not to hear anyone rowing nextdoor or coming up the hall to ask questions?
[The hand with his wine glass is attached to the arm that he puts around her shoulder, all very fluid and without spilling a drop. They're a natural fit, sat like this. The plate of food he safely transfers to the space just beside him for now. As hungry as he'd said--as hungry as he is--this is preferable, for the moment.]
I find the sound of rowing comforting. Like a lullaby. Don't tell me you don't feel the same about endless questions. 'Scoutmaster, scoutmaster, what do we do next?
[He bears the nudge with good grace--tips his head back as he grins, so he avoids her eyes.]
Oh, what. You won't give me sympathy? Really? Not in my hour of need?
[If there is a little fear at the thought--that he will be somewhere long enough that people will be expecting things of him--well, it's a small feeling. Barely anything to be noticed.]
[ Bold of him to assume Riftwatch members will wait for experience before demanding answers. She squints at the ceiling and makes a considering noise. ] I suppose I could commiserate.
[ She rests her head back against his arm and tilts it to smile up at him. After a moment, catching the tiniest sense of something, she reaches up to brush knuckles against his chin, thumb scuffing softly through his beard. ] Tired?
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Sounds perfect. It's a good middle ground, this. Between Kirkwall and home. A city, but different enough. I like it.
[He hands her the first glass, then sets to pouring himself the second.]
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I'm glad. I've always liked it. It's large enough to feel lost in, but relatively clean and quiet for a city of its size. And this has been home for a long time.
[ She's quiet a moment, eating, and then after a sip of wine pauses, head cocked. There's nothing there but the rain on the windows. ]
Isn't it nice not to hear anyone rowing nextdoor or coming up the hall to ask questions?
no subject
I find the sound of rowing comforting. Like a lullaby. Don't tell me you don't feel the same about endless questions. 'Scoutmaster, scoutmaster, what do we do next?
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Be careful, one day you might get the same, Vice-Admiral. And then where will you look for sympathy?
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Oh, what. You won't give me sympathy? Really? Not in my hour of need?
[If there is a little fear at the thought--that he will be somewhere long enough that people will be expecting things of him--well, it's a small feeling. Barely anything to be noticed.]
no subject
[ She rests her head back against his arm and tilts it to smile up at him. After a moment, catching the tiniest sense of something, she reaches up to brush knuckles against his chin, thumb scuffing softly through his beard. ] Tired?