[He repeats it with amusement, genuinely pleased at the thought.]
Barely more'n a baby. What name does she know you by, so I don't spoil things?
[He trails his fingers over the spines of the books as he walks along the shelf, admiring them--and the knick-nacks, one after another, ending with the knife. This he picks up, carefully, looking it over.]
[ Another day she might debate the notion that she was anywhere near so young at eighteen, but today she just watches him with a small, crooked smile, before returning to unpacking dishes. The food is steaming hot and the smell of meat and spices mingles with the wood smoke from the fire as she uncovers bowls and platters. ]
Isabel. I thought keeping the same first sound would make it easier. Come eat.
[He looks down the flat of the dagger at her, first--then raises it to salute with, a brief touch at his temple.]
At your invitation, Isabel.
[And he flourishes, then, elegant, and bows--sets the knife back where it was (nearly where it was, a little off, maybe, but not on purpose) and comes over to the food.]
Smells amazing. Can I have a kiss, first? As a blessing on the food?
[ She smiles at the salute and doesn't notice (or at least doesn't care) about the minute misplacement of the knife. Close enough. She does step around the counter to meet him. ]
Of course. I should have done that first. [ She slides hands up his chest to catch at his collar and pushes up onto her toes to kiss him. Once a firm press of lips and then again, slower and sweeter and arms curling around his neck. She draws it out, a minute, two, and then sets back down on her heels and draws away with a faint air of reluctance. ] Better?
[He'd slipped his arms around her as soon as she'd stepped in close, and he leaves them where they are, not quite interested in releasing her just yet. Even if the food does smell good.]
I like this. Can we live here? Still keep our positions, and all, I'm not about to abandon it all yet--but this instead of an office? Think of it.
[ She has no objection to that, resting hands on his chest and leaning back against the counter, near enough that it's just a shift of her weight not a pull away from his arms. ]
I wish. If this were Kirkwall we might manage it. But we can come back. It's an easier trip than the cottage. [ She rubs the heels of her palms into his clavicle and smiles at the floor before looking up through her lashes. ] I'm glad you like it. I've thought about bringing you here for a long time.
Mmm. [It's an agreeable hum. Darras loosens his arms around her just a little, so that she can lean comfortably back.] Now, I could agree to that. If not full-time living.
[He leans forward so he can kiss her, quick, one more time.]
I'm glad you did bring me. I like it. Seeing it. It's like seeing you, in a way. The cottage is yours as well and all, by now, but this is different than that.
I know. [ She smiles as she smooths his collar unnecessarily. ] That's why you're the only person I've ever brought here.
[ She leans up to steal one more kiss, then slips away to collect plates and cutlery. ] I told Mrs. Lalakis what you said you wanted and it smells like she understood. Let's eat by the fire?
[He turns to consider the food, uncovering dishes or opening packages or whatever he has to do to get a better smell of the food. And then he'll carry over at least some of it, following after her.]
It smells better'n anything I've smelled in weeks. I'm grateful to Mrs. Lalakis for her understanding.
She's a very good cook. And kind enough to lend me her dishes.
[ Yseult collects a few of the bowls and platters--more colorfully painted than Yseult's own simple matching stoneware--and carries them over to the low table in front of the couch, markedly warmer than the far side of the room where the real table sits by the windows. She sets them down and returns to collect a bottle of wine and two glasses before taking a seat. ]
You'll have to come back when the weather's better. It's lovely most of the year. We can eat on her terrace and then have drinks on my roof.
[ 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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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-11-18 03:19 am (UTC)[He repeats it with amusement, genuinely pleased at the thought.]
Barely more'n a baby. What name does she know you by, so I don't spoil things?
[He trails his fingers over the spines of the books as he walks along the shelf, admiring them--and the knick-nacks, one after another, ending with the knife. This he picks up, carefully, looking it over.]
no subject
Date: 2020-11-18 04:42 pm (UTC)Isabel. I thought keeping the same first sound would make it easier. Come eat.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 01:21 am (UTC)At your invitation, Isabel.
[And he flourishes, then, elegant, and bows--sets the knife back where it was (nearly where it was, a little off, maybe, but not on purpose) and comes over to the food.]
Smells amazing. Can I have a kiss, first? As a blessing on the food?
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 01:36 am (UTC)Of course. I should have done that first. [ She slides hands up his chest to catch at his collar and pushes up onto her toes to kiss him. Once a firm press of lips and then again, slower and sweeter and arms curling around his neck. She draws it out, a minute, two, and then sets back down on her heels and draws away with a faint air of reluctance. ] Better?
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 02:02 am (UTC)[He'd slipped his arms around her as soon as she'd stepped in close, and he leaves them where they are, not quite interested in releasing her just yet. Even if the food does smell good.]
I like this. Can we live here? Still keep our positions, and all, I'm not about to abandon it all yet--but this instead of an office? Think of it.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 02:19 am (UTC)I wish. If this were Kirkwall we might manage it. But we can come back. It's an easier trip than the cottage. [ She rubs the heels of her palms into his clavicle and smiles at the floor before looking up through her lashes. ] I'm glad you like it. I've thought about bringing you here for a long time.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 02:57 am (UTC)[He leans forward so he can kiss her, quick, one more time.]
I'm glad you did bring me. I like it. Seeing it. It's like seeing you, in a way. The cottage is yours as well and all, by now, but this is different than that.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 03:22 am (UTC)[ She leans up to steal one more kiss, then slips away to collect plates and cutlery. ] I told Mrs. Lalakis what you said you wanted and it smells like she understood. Let's eat by the fire?
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 03:43 am (UTC)It smells better'n anything I've smelled in weeks. I'm grateful to Mrs. Lalakis for her understanding.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-19 04:39 am (UTC)[ Yseult collects a few of the bowls and platters--more colorfully painted than Yseult's own simple matching stoneware--and carries them over to the low table in front of the couch, markedly warmer than the far side of the room where the real table sits by the windows. She sets them down and returns to collect a bottle of wine and two glasses before taking a seat. ]
You'll have to come back when the weather's better. It's lovely most of the year. We can eat on her terrace and then have drinks on my roof.
no subject
Date: 2020-11-20 04:25 am (UTC)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.]
no subject
Date: 2020-11-24 04:53 am (UTC)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
Date: 2020-11-25 12:58 am (UTC)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?
no subject
Date: 2020-11-25 01:53 am (UTC)Be careful, one day you might get the same, Vice-Admiral. And then where will you look for sympathy?
no subject
Date: 2020-11-26 01:29 am (UTC)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
Date: 2020-11-27 08:02 pm (UTC)[ 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?