Talus Kahar's House - Living Room - Crown's Refuge
- Built mostly by his own hands, this is the first structure built by the exiled Emperor of Fastheld, Talus Kahar XIV, as a project to learn self-sufficiency among the denizens of the Wildlands.
- The main living room area is rather spacious, with room for a couch and several chairs. An L-shaped wooden counter divides this area from the kitchen and dining area. A door leads to his bedchamber.
Vhramis has taken a seat at the table, the man once again engaged in seperating a small pile of berries according to color and ripeness with a knife. Seems he's been busy.
"Oh, cry to the stars for mercy if you wish," mocks the voice of Rowena Mikin as the door gets shouldered open by yours truly and she strides inside holding a mud-sodden kitten at arms' length. The matted, blackened little beast roars with the high pitch of fury, bellowing forth a "meeeew" of alarm. This plea for justice brings only a 'tch' in response from the duchess as she spirits the kitten through the living room to pause alongside the busied Vhramis to inquire "Have we a bucket of water?"
Ah. The pair return. It's not the first time Vhramis has encountered the duo, and most likely not the last. Thus, as he looks towards Rowena, his expression is not as surprised as it would have been under the circumstances. "In the corner, yes," he responds, gesturing. He gives the kitten a once over. "You do have the best luck with animals, don't you?"
Squawker, as most recently named by his mistress for his raspy, incessent serenades, pats most viciously at Rowena's knuckles with needle-sharp claws in attempts to free himself from the iron grip. "Should I have expected anything less, knowing the nature of the man who hand-selected this creature?" She retorts wisely before bearing her own fangs in a mimicked 'hiss' to the feisty feline.
Squawker falls silent for a brief moment to contemplate the origin of this peculiar sound. He raises one deliberate paw and stamps a muddy print onto her pursed lips, leaving the appendage to rest there while turning away his green eyes from hers and looking instead to Vhramis. And then, the kitten serenade resumes.
A quiet snort of amusement is directed towards the cat from the ranger. "Perhaps it was chosen to give you a challenge? He may have wished for you to not become bored," he suggests, reaching out a finger to scratch behind the tiny pointed ear.
"There are a great many more pleasant things to keep one's self occupied with than chasing clumsy kittens through rain-spattered puddles of discarded ash." Rowena sighs and twists her head 'round to rub the print away to her shoulder. She carries the fuzzy culprit away to the corner, using her teeth to tug up her sleeves to the elbow. "Most of which I admittedly left behind in Fastheld."
*Sploosh*
The sound of dipped cat is preambled by a long-winded whine of defeat. Squawker shakes his head irritably as he's held in to the chin by his nape while the other offending hand massages the dirt free. "I suspect this will become nigh impossible a year from now. By then, you shall have become a fattened, indoor house cat, I suppose, so perhaps you'll not find your way into such messes."
Vhramis watches the bath in progress, and while it's somewhat amusing to the man to watch the cat looking so miserable, any enjoyment he may have taken from the sight is pushed aside at the healer's words. "Er...pardon? I'm going to have to take care of it?"
"And why would there be need for that?" Rowena scrunches a brow in confusion over her shoulder while she switches hands and rolls the kitten over onto his back, dripping belly exposed so she may pick at the matted clumps. Another pathetic mewl is given. "I *do* have a few domiciles in which to stay in Fastheld, you know." Chuckling softly, she dunks the cat a final time, courteous enough to pinch his little nose shut before submersion.
With a frown, Vhramis lifts a finger to rub at the inside of his ear. "Pardon. I misheard you. It happens sometimes." The ranger smiles a bit sheepishly and looks back down to the table, lowering the knife and pushing out a small clump of purplish berries away from the mass. "Try some of these, when you're done washing your friend," he offers.
A tiny sneeze signals the end of the kitten's torment. Lifting him free of the water, Rowena crosses the floor to her satchel. A trail of drips is left behind while the cat cleaner searches for a rag to bundle her victim in. "Where did you find them?" She asks with a glance. Her hands swaddle the kitten in cotton before she gently rubs the wet away.
"By the area your expedition boat docked in," Vhramis explains, nodding his head in the general direction. Despite the fact that the walls are in the way. "There's a bush a small ways in where they grow. Of note is the fact that that one doesn't try to eat you, nor is it's fruit poisonous. In fact, it's actually quite pleasant."
"A carnivorous bush?" Rowena smirks beneath her breath and shakes her head to the concept. "Does one hunt them as one would a bear, then?" Squawker wiggles his head free to stare with bewilderment at the rest of the room, eyes wide, fur wildly on end. Rowena folds the cloth over and resumes her task, paying special care to dry the fuz beneath his 'arms'. When he's finally had enough, the kitten springs free, prances into the bedroom, and parks himself in the floor's center to finish drying with his tongue what he hadn't given the duchess a chance to reach. "Have it your way, then." She murmurs and rises to fetch the soiled bucket.
"I just avoid that bush," Vhramis answers dryly, shaking his head. Just what they all need. Another creature out to eat them. At least it doesn't move. The cat is watched as it runs to his bedroom, the man shaking his head. He does a lot of that lately. "If you shed fur on my bed, I'm putting you out into the cold," he threatens the feline.
"Do that and I'll task you with cleaning him." Rowena threatens the ranger in a mimicked tone. The sharp look in her eye and muddied smudge on her *silk* gown suggests that she's not in jest, however. Bucket in hand, she tromps towards the door, snatching a berry as she goes.
"I'd probably just cut the dirty fur off," Vhramis mutters, shaking his head. "Though I suppose a shaved cat wouldn't be very happy. And by extention, neither would the rest of us. Where is Serath, anyway? Shouldn't it be his turn to look after Squeaker? Stalker?" The man pauses. "What was his name again?"
"Which one ?" Rowena smiles a smile painted with berry juice, holding the door open with a foot while leaning precariously outward to pour the water to the side of the entrance. "He goes by many, of late. When he lives a vocal day, I call him as Squawker. The nights he slinks with stealth into my bedding with intentions of placing a cold nose to my feet, he be Shadow's breath, though I'll find it wise to leave that name to be called only in this land." Giving the bucket a final shake, she retracts back indoors and leaves it to sit next to the door in reminder that more water is to be fetched. "I've not yet decided on a permanent naming." The door closes tightly by guidance of her hand and she licks her teeth clean before reaching for another ripened snack and joins Vhramis at the table.
"He's only really been Serath to me," Vhramis answers after a moment of thought, looking to Rowena with an almost blank face. "As far as I can remember, anyway. Though I've not known him for a very long time, I suppose. Though, still, he asks I don't call him 'Your Majesty'." The blank look fades as he scoops up a berry as well. "Quite amusing, really. Several years ago I never imagined I'd be on speaking terms with a Prince of Fastheld."
Rowena's face, on the other hand, remains quite blank. And blanched. Berry poised against her lower lip, she blinks once as a show of life while her brain revises what it is she had said and what the reply had been. No, no...No the error had not been on her part. Color returns in the form of rose to her ears and she looks aside for a moment while her brain accidentally stumbles upon an envisioned version of what it was he must have thought her to have said.
And Vhramis blinks in response, eyes fixing on Rowena when they were perhaps focused slightly behind her just a moment ago. He considers the look he's getting quietly, before reaching up a hesitant hand to wipe at his face. "...What?"
Contain yourself, Lady of the Flame, sobered liege of West Bluff...Unfortunately, Rowena's mental chide fails to contain a tiny giggle of response. A giggle that's muffled by the bursting of a berry between her teeth while she stares into the tabletop. The girlish sound prompts another one to follow, and another, until it strengthens to a close-lipped laugh. Her teeth clench in vain to keep the berry juice sealed in while she struggles to relax her throat into a condition better fit to swallow. The reappearance of the culprit mental image makes this task entirely too difficult, however, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to aid in the endeavor while her face burrows into her other arm upon the table.
Vhramis tilts his head slightly, looking just as curious as the cat that Rowena had just held. "I had that effect on Serath as well," he notes, shaking his head with a bit of a 'why me' expression. Obviously, the entire world has gone crazy, except for him. The man pops the berry in his mouth and goes back to his sorting, allowing the Lady to laugh herself out.
"He..." Rowena swallows at last, smacking her palm onto the table to emphasize her success in that. "C-can you imagine the ss.." Squinty-eyed and crimson now that the laughter had been so violently restrained within, the peaceful little duchess holds her head in her hands and releases the boistrous sound that had been wanting to emerge. "With missing teeth, and to explain how..." Clearly whatever it was this 'crazy' woman had managed to get into her head is quite hysterical, but it's evident to her that Vhramis is equally as clueless to her reaction as she to his.
"I fancy that would be worse than calling him a scoundrel stablehand." She concludes after another series of snickers and pants, corset put to the test by the heaving breath. "Oh dear.." Leaning back, she folds her hands over her eyes and puts her energy into calming her breaths. "Perhaps your ears need a finer cleaning than Squawker's."
A finger is lifted to one of his ears again, and it's given a vigorous rub, checking for blockage. "I still don't quite see what's amusing," he admits, blinking at her, though there's a small, clueless smile on his face. "I was just talking about Serath."
"And I, about the *cat*." Rowena states, lowering her hands from her face. "At least until your response indicated you thought I was giving such names to Serath, for then my mind fled elsewhere, and...and well so it's returned." Insert berry now. Plugging up her rambling jaw with a third, Rowena stands from the table and aimlessly drifts across the room to the fire. Chewing thoughtfully, she stretches her arms tiredly and then sets her fingers to work with picking apart the pinned braids and curls. "To answer a long-forgotten question of yours, No. I know not where he's gone to."
"The cat?" Vhramis blinks, looking over to the open door to his bedroom, where the kitten still sits. "Oh. Well...the cat is somewhat different than Serath." He looks back to Rowena and shrugs. "And...I'm sure /Serath/ will show up sooner or later."
"Different in fewer ways than one would suspect..." Rowena mutters, mustering another smile and holds one of the pins between her teeth. Of course if /Serath/ were to ever deposit a dead rodent upon her pillow, soft chides would manifest swiftly into angry shouts. "Without a doubt. These habitual vanishings are no new revelations to me." Sadly. Plucking the pin from its temporary hold, Rowena joins it with its newly freed mate inside her satchel. Fully sobered now, her expression has returned to its former placidity.
"When he returns, he'll be sure to bring with him some grand revelation. Or discovery. Or glowing metal," Vhramis muses, tapping the tabletop with a finger. "We were planning on returning to Fastheld before you all arrived."
A soft snort is Rowena's reply as she pulls forth a comb in the pins' place and works it carefully through the knots in her hair. "For months I agonized that I had waited too long to find the truth for myself...witnessed his nightly visits to my dreams so that I may be forced to watch as his flesh was rendered from bone, sinew snapped and marrow suckled through fangs of wildlings damned...Each night his death came in a different form, each night I watched unable to aid as I was bound by the rulings of the Council..." Voice hollow, she looks to Vhramis with glassy eyes. "And they wondered why I refused to sleep."
The brush snags, drawing a wince from her expression. She forces the comb along, a few hairs ripping free as result. "But at last opportunity came for me to venture this far. And now I am to find that I need have only waited just a few days longer?" A smiles wanes upon her lips. "Imagine the tragedy if I had succumbed to the Chancellor's insistence, to everyone's proddings, to forget and to wed another. They were convinced I'd make a worthy Empress, and when His Majesty demanded a list of all unwed women from the houses from which to choose, they hounded after me to include my own name. It was an Imperial mandate, after all....so I did." She sighs, turning her head to the other side and continues her routine.
"I am grateful that I was not forced to betray one brother's love to stand at another's side."
Vhramis frowns faintly at that for some reason, the man lifting a hand to rub at his face. "The Emperor...gets what he wants," he states, matter of factly. He stares down at the berries, his interest apparently lost. If Talus had married Rowena... "I'm glad things worked out for the best," he adds, looking over to her.
Numbly staring into the flames, Rowena nods. The comb seems to retrace its steps on its own accord. "As am I. It was my preference to find him in life so I need not venture into death. Now if he ever acts to slay me a third time, he may inadvertently succeed." Swallowing, she puts the comb down and closes her eyes. The tiny tiptoe of feline footsteps is accompanied by an inquisitive mew and thrumming purr as the kitten finishes his grooming and rubs against her seated hip. Hands which had not long ago roughly hauled the troublemaker in from his play now tenderly scoop him up and cuddle him to her breast. He purrs his contentment, burrowing his face into the silk neckline and sucking with infantile habit on the material.
"Do you ever plan on returning to Fastheld?" Vhramis asks her, looking dully about the room. "It may seem like a silly question...but time seems to pass differently out here. You may find that, what you had intended as a short stay, quickly turns into something much longer."
"Of course I do." Rowena answers firmly, scritching at the kitten's ears and chin. "I cannot leave all that I am sworn to in that land. The Council, the Hall of Healing in the Tribunal, the reconstruction of Light's Reach, my kin, the few that remain..." Pausing, she glances behind to ensure that nothing obstructs her path, then lays back to stare up at the ceiling. "And what of dear Umbrus and Reliable, the runs I had promised them to Mikin wood. And I could not possibly leave Zareef. Nor can I leave the Chancellor, His Majesty, all of Fastheld with the belief that they were correct in having faith in Serath's death and inability to return. I certainly intend to disprove their suspicions of my madness and to prove that I was right. That you were right."
Vhramis chuckles softly at that, nodding his head. "I never imagined I'd be gone as long as I have. I wonder sometimes...if I'll ever see it again. Though there's not all that much for me there. I doubt I'd be overly welcomed, anyway. I have the stink of the Shadow on me."
"I have some wonderful scents of lavender and rose to mask that if you'd be so daring." Rowena jests quietly, arching a brow to him from the floor. "What more awaits you here than within the walls of safer haven? The need to protect this newly sprung township, perhaps, but last I heard, the entire purpose behind our expedition to this place was to assess what is needed and to consider sending more aid. Surely you can return to visit the land of your birth, if even only for a time."
"I'm a figurehead," Vhramis explains to her, gesturing about the room. "The people here look to me and respect me because..." His voice fades and he glances to Rowena, his mouth clamping closed. He shakes his head slightly. "They need me here."
"Noble words, my friend." Rowena murmurs melodically, studying his turned profile with wizened eyes. "Of a noble heart. But perhaps one day..." There's the soft sound of rustling silk and cotton as she climbs to her feet, bare toes treading with near silence over the floor boards. The kitten's purring comes into earshot as she comes to hover over his shoulder, and a pair of satin hands delivers the bundle of warmth to his chest. "You will find what it is /you/ need."
The feel of the kitten being pressed to his chest causes the man to look down and take in arms, tickling at the furry back with a finger. He tilts his head to peer upwards to the woman standing behind him. "You know of me?" he asks, voice hushed, perhaps in response to something she said. "No...you don't. Nobody does. Well...that's not true. People here do, though I don't believe they speak of it." He shakes his head and looks back down to the kitten.
Soulful eyes return his curious squint with the steady depth of one who knows many things. "You have risked your life's strength for the man whose life I prize more greatly than my own. And now you dedicate the same to people that so few would dare to love. It is this, Vhramis, that I know. What more need be spoken?" She whispers.
Bracing her left hand upon the table, she places the right lightly over his forehead and presses her lips to the barrier in a gesture of sisterly love. Rising without another word, she leaves the kitten in his embrace and moves on. As her hand draws away from the table to her side, it might be noted that there is one less berry left in the pile.
A haunting note lingers where those jaded eyes had been, born from a melodic hum deep within her throat. The tune is carried on into the bedroom, fading behind the gentle thud of a door.
You pick up Forage
The gesture brings a faint reddening to Vhramis' face, and the man seems to be at a loss for how to respond. So he doesn't, instead opting to look back down to his berry stock while he strokes the held kitten slowly. "Rest well, Rowena," he offers, safely using her name with her out of hearing range.
Return to Season 4 (2006)