#antiqua write

[antiqua-lugar]

working on my gale/caradoc slice of life thingy (too tired for dorian/wyll), having a lot of fun writing astarion experiencing what I would call friendship jealousy? like those people are HIS friends, and they are his first true friends, and fine he didn't like caradoc (or gale) much at the start but now that's one of HIS best friends, THEY saved the world together, and fine lae'zel clearly comes first but then HE is the closest one to them, thank you very much! and then he runs into caradoc's best friend from before the tadpole and no, he is not jealous, what does he have to jealous of, of a... ...of a dark gnome paladin.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Redcore

[teeth-draws]

He’s trying to be cool about it but he shouldn’t have opened that and you should probably get out of there…

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 10

It's heeeeere! Final(!!!) chapter of my @shepherds-of-haven 1920s fic. Ty to Lena for her amazing characters and the Summer AU event in 2021 that kicked this off, and to @emeraldgreaves for being my obscure info diver when I didn't have time to replay large chunks of the game looking for details <333 ---

The walk to Whitestone Couriers was blessedly uneventful. Xaeryn neither needed nor wanted more excitement today. Tonight. Even more fortunate than the quiet walk, Mr. Syndran was just emerging from the building as she reached it.

He paused with one hand on the door, leaving it half-open. "Miss Shrike. Should I take your arrival at this hour to mean what I think?"

She tapped the blanker box tucked under her. "I found it, safe and sound."

"Excellent!" Mr. Syndran wasn't the type to be described as beaming, but he certainly looked pleased as he pushed the door open. "Though I do have to wonder why your first instinct was to bring it here at this hour."

"I gambled on your or Ms. Aerin working late," Xaeryn explained as she followed him to his office. "With how long it's taken to track this darb down, I thought you might want it secured as quickly as possible." I didn't want to risk holding on to it any longer than I have to, God only knows what baloney might happen. Jarkyth did get away...

"You aren't wrong there." He leaned his walking stick against the edge of the desk and gave her a keen look. "Miss Shrike, you look nearly dead on your feet, sit down."

"You aren't wrong there," she said wryly, dropping into the chair he indicated without protest. Which was a mistake; she could feel exhaustion dragging at her as the adrenaline finally faded. Hopefully she'd make it back to her feet. "It's been a long day."

"Then I'll try not to make it that much longer." Mr. Syndran set down his keys and turned to open the safe. "But I would be interested in hearing at least high points of your success."

What made it take so long to find, in other words, she thought running a hand over her hair. "It was stolen by the king of Elinden, who fancies himself the rightful owner and planned to use it as proof of his connection to the land as he established a stronghold in the Jalis desert." Xaeryn handed over the case with the Torch and leaned forward, steepling her fingers. "He also seemed to buy all the... mythology surrounding it; believe it offered luck and protection."

"Hmm," Mr. Syndran sniffed. "Superstition..." He opened the case and nodded in satisfaction seeing the Torch within. The case itself caught his attention, and he examined it for a moment, as if he could tell there was something special about it.

"Belief is a powerful thing," Xaeryn shrugged. "Whether it's truth or folly." She rubbed the back of her neck, still sore from tussling with Heron. She was going to be very stiff come morning. Hate to think how that would've gone with him at full strength. "They'd found a place to hole up in Ashtown--"

"Of course," he snorted as he set the case in the safe and spun the lock.

"--using an abandoned warehouse," Xaeryn continued, stifling a yawn. "But we were able to follow some of King Kaza's people, find and retrieve the Torch" --and Red-- "and catch... most of them."

He tensed. "We?"

"Free agents and the Shepherds," she clarified with a wave of one hand. "Not the buttons; I remember my contract."

Mr. Syndran pursed his lips and returned to the desk, sitting in his chair. "You say most were apprehended...?"

"Unfortunately, the... financier slipped away while we were subduing the king and his brunos," she said carefully. She didn't want to go blabbing everywhere the Western Hierophant was involved. "He stood to gain valuable trade contracts from helping pull this off, but decided to cut his losses when things started turning against their success."

"Hmm, a pity. But you recovered the artefact, as contracted, and caught most of those responsible." He opened a drawer, withdrew his checkbook, and filled one out to pass to her. "The rest of your base fee." He watched her stifle another yawn as she took it. "I presume you would like some rest and time to collect receipts before we settle the reimbursement of incurred expenses?"

"You presume correctly." She had most things documented together already, but she did want sleep. She confirmed the amount, shifted to tuck the payment in her handbag--

--and was abruptly(rudely) reminded her handbag was still laying in one of the warehouse hallways. Damn it all, she didn't want to go back there. Not tonight. She just wanted to sleep. "And I presume you'll want that in the books as a separate expense from my fee, in case any questions are raised?"

"You presume correctly." He folded his hands an studied her. "I do have some meetings tomorrow, and will now also have to arrange returning Solimer's Torch to the Hall... Does eight thirty work for you?"

I'll make it work. She wanted this done with before she and Red talked, mainly to minimize the risk of being interrupted. But given how tired he'd looked, she was probably safe until eight thirty. "Yes, that'll be fine. Now, if you'll excuse me...?" She pushed to her feet.

"Of course, Miss Shrike." Mr. Syndran rose as well and bowed his gratitude. "I thank you for a job well done, and release you to go get some sleep."

"Thank you. See you tomorrow." Unfortunately, there was one more thing to do before she could sleep. Some of the things in her handbag were too vital to leave laying in a warehouse all night. Xaeryn sighed as she exited the building and retraced her steps to Ashtown.

---

She didn't find her handbag, which was highly annoying, despite looking both where she dropped it and in the surrounding area. She even peeked in a couple of the rooms to make sure it hadn't been kicked off somewhere in all the bustle. Still no luck, which left her with hoping one of the Shepherds or Briony or someone had found it and planned to return it. She was too tired to tear the whole warehouse apart, no matter how annoying it might be to replace some of the contents.

Fortunately her keys still hung around her neck, so Xaeryn was able to get in her place.

To find she had a visitor--seated behind her desk. With his feet up.

"Hey, sunshine," Chase Trinaeste grinned.

Xaeryn was too tired to do anything but stare at him and wait for an explanation, one brow arching.

His grin widened. "Oh, apologies; Miss Shrike."

"Chase. What can I do for you?"

He straightened in her chair. "Heard you just closed your big case. Made quite the ruckus, actually."

"I imagine it did." Xaeryn crossed her arms. That was fast. "Doesn't explain why you're here."

"Just settling accounts," Chase said, still grinning.

She'd figured as much. Couldn't this wait for morning? "I remember our arrangement," she said around a yawn. "One favor, as you did help, but I ultimately found what I was after though other avenues."

"Smart dame," he chuckled.

"I appreciate your help regardless," Xaeryn clarified. "Whatever your motives for giving it."

"Very smart dame." Chase pushed to his feet and headed back to the window, still open from his entrance. "Just make sure you keep remembering, Miss Shrike. Thieves Guild will, and we'll collect someday."

"Oh, I've no doubt of that."

He grinned at her deadpan comment and gave a dramatic bow before he vanished out the window.

Xaeryn pushed it closed and double checked the lock. It's always something with this job... she mused, heading for her bedroom. Too tired to even bother with nightclothes, she kicked off her shoes and flopped across the bed. out before she could even wrap the blanket around her with dim thoughts of not moving until she absolutely had to.

---

The internal clock that was gift and curse in equal measure woke her at eight, fortunately less sore than anticipated. Just enough time to freshen up, change, and maybe eat a little breakfast before Mr. Syndran showed up. Something simple like toast and jam. He would understand if she was still drinking her khav when he arrived, surely.

In high spirits from her success--among other things--she decided to wear the dress she'd eschewed the day before; golden yellow with red and navy embroidery. No need for trips into Ashtown or blending in or foot chases today. And if the dress happened to look fantastic on her, well. A gal was allowed to feel good about herself, especially after a success like last night.

Xaeryn dressed, then freshened up her hair and makeup while the breakfast was toasting. She had time to eat while tallying expenses, but was indeed only halfway through her khav when Mr. Syndran's familiar knock came against the door.

He entered when she called to him, inclining his head as he closed the door behind him. "Good morning, Miss Shrike."

"And to you, Mr. Syndran. I'm just about done with the expenses if you want to look it over."

"You've figured me well," he approaching to sit in one of the chairs facing her desk.

"It's just good business sense to verify," Xaeryn returned with a smile. She took the plate into the kitchen while he studied the ledger lines for this case.

He was frowning at one particular line when she returned. "Contract TG? Could I get some details on this expense, Miss Shrike?"

Xaeryn sighed and braced herself. She'd expected him to zero in on that; there weren't many expenses claimable for this, and that one was more than twice all the others. "Once my evidence pointed toward Ashtown, I... arranged to have Thieves Guild look out for anything hinky. It's their haunt, I figured they would note things I--or anyone else--might miss."

Mr. Syndran's expression flattened. "That strikes me as an unnecessary measure, Miss Shrike, and I don't see how it is our responsibility to finance you outsourcing yours."

"I understand there's... fraught history between Merchants and Thieves Guilds," Xaeryn said with a tight smile. Doesn't mean I'll let you weasel out of paying something I'm owed. "But they gave me information that led to the warehouse where I recovered the Torch. Without their help and knowledge, Mr. Syndran, I would still be looking. And you would be approaching the point of needing to contact the proper authorities, thus damaging your guild's reputation as you sought to avoid," she pointed out. "I'm only asking for partial reimbursement; I recognize the choice to use them was my own."

She didn't mention the pleasure Chase had derived from knowing this exact scenario would arise. It wouldn't improve Mr. Syndran's mood or her odds of getting paid back.

His lips thinned. "Oh, very well. Is this the full amount, or the percentage you're claiming for reimbursement?"

"Full amount. I'm willing to take fifty percent, cover half of it myself."

He nodded, still looking displeased with the fact, and continued through the expenditures. He didn't bat an eye at the 'asst. bribes' or standard fuel reimbursement for the drives to Capra. However much she'd enjoyed bumping gums with Red, those were case-related trips, and there was law on the books far as rate went for reimbursing that.

It did surprise her when he raised less fuss over her including partial reimbursement for her gala dress than he had the Thieves Guild contract. But then, she'd attached a receipt for that and it was clear she'd both bought the least expensive dress she could get away with for such an event, and wasn't asking for all the money back. She was keeping the dress, and if she ever attended anything that fancy again, could re-wear it. And it had gotten a bit mussed when that bruno came after her, she couldn't have returned it if she wanted to.

"You know, I went to the Hall before here," Mr. Syndran commented as he confirmed her arithmetic and wrote the check. "Curator Acquell was most effusive in her thanks for the return of the missing artefact."

"Glad to hear it." Xaeryn tucked the check in a drawer thanks to the absence of her handbag, then smiled when he lingered, hands folded atop his walking stick. "Did you want some more details of the recovery, Mr. Syndran? Or do your other meetings beckon?"

"They do, but I have some time to hear more specifics of last night's events." He gestured for her to go on.

"Alright, then." She settled in her chair and began with Red's abduction, through her scrying and trailing King Kaza. It was tricky to balance explaining Briony and Darius' involvement without being too detailed. They had been instrumental, but she didn't know how comfortable they'd be with her oversharing. Mr. Syndran listened to all the details with rapt attention, and Xaeryn had a suspicion he gleaned from the words far more than she actually said.

He rose at the end, satisfied expression still sour at the edges over the Thieves Guild involvement. "A thrilling chain of events, Miss Shrike, and one I am most grateful resulted in your success. You did a fine job in this case, and I will keep you in mind should I ever require similar skills in the future."

"Glad to hear it made a good impression." She rose to shake his hand. "You were definitely one of my better clients, one I wouldn't mind working for again should the need arise."

"High praise from one with your reputation," Mr. Syndran chuckled. He shook her hand then bowed. "Farewell, Miss Shrike."

Xaeryn returned the bow. "Farewell, Mr. Syndran."

She walked him to the door, inclined her head in a final farewell, and waited until he'd started down the hall to close the door and return to her desk.

Her khav had gotten cold while she was recounting the night's events. She pursed her lips but decided there was little enough left to be no great loss and set it aside. Now to decide if a nap or some other method would be best for filling some of her time until Red came by. Given she'd--potentially--lost another notepad, there wasn't much she could do for case wrap-up. Maybe a nap was the best option...

She was startled awake by enthusiastic knocking on her door. Apparently the deliberation had been taken out of her hands.

"You can come in," she called, rubbing her eyes and stretching until now-sore spots complained.

The door banged open and a familiar pink-haired figure grinned at her. "I'm glad you were here!"

"Where else did you imagine I would be?" Xaeryn asked drolly as she stood and circled the desk.

"I dunno, the museum or your client's office or something." Briony shrugged. "Glad I didn't hafta chase you down; I have somethin' of yours." She thrust out her hand, clasped around Xaeryn's missing, somewhat scuffed, handbag. "Hope everything's there, though I did take out my little ahfuri," she laughed. "Hope that's alright."

"Of course, and thank you so much." Xaeryn couldn't help a smile as she took the handbag. "I realized I lost it after I left, went back to look--"

"Oh, I'm sorry I took it so you wasted the time, then." Briony's expression screwed into something remorseful and she tugged her ponytail.

"No, no, I'm glad it was with someone trustworthy, rather than just laying there." She poked through to confirm none of the important things were missing.

"That's what I was figuring," Briony said with a relieved laugh. "Wouldn't want some goon findin' it when I could keep it safe. And I know where your office is so I could bring it back."

Driving license, PI license, dagger, notepad. All here. "Thank you, again." Xaeryn set the handbag on her desk. "So, what plans do you and Darius have now that King Kaza is arrested and no longer in possession of Solimer's Torch?"

Briony grinned fiercely. "Still a wonderful string of words to hear, even if I was there when it happened." She wrinkled her nose. "And Jarkyth breezed."

"That's how it plays out sometimes. And you were a key part of making it happen as well as it did," Xaeryn corrected.

"Yeah, you're a gem," Briony waved off the praise. "We'll hafta go back to Elinden, fan this in to somethin' worth deposing that muti as king. Then sort out succession." She grimaced. "Might be headin' for another civil war, which isn't great, but even if it comes to that, hopefully we'll end up with someone better in charge. But..." She hesitated, bit her lip. "I was talkin' to the Shepherds, y'know, last night, and it sounds like they do good work. Lots of adventure. Stoppin' people like Jarkyth and Kaza. I dunno, maybe once Elinden's settled I'll be back." She smirked. "Hael, I'll even bring D with me if he wants and behaves himself."

Xaeryn chuckled. "Is that even something he's interested in?"

"Dunno, we'll have to talk about it." Briony shrugged and twirled her ponytail. "But Elinden's our home, and we've been fightin' for it a while now, need to get that sorted b'fore we consider anything else."

"Very true." Xaeryn leaned against the edge of the desk. "Are you staying in Haven a while or heading straight back?"

"We have to stay a couple more days to give some more details about what we know of the theft. They'll prob'ly want to chin with you about it, too, by the way."

She nodded, assuming from context 'they' meant the Shepherds. As long as it didn't interfere with her talking to Red, she'd be happy to tell them anything that would help. "Understandable."

Briony bounced a little on her toes. "I should be going. The hotel concierge gave me a whole list of places to go for sightseein', and if I have to stay here a few more days, I wanna see as many as possible."

Xaeryn couldn't help a chuckle at the other woman's enthusiasm. "Make sure you enjoy the ones you get to see, rather than rushing through."

Briony nodded, making her ponytail bounce. "I know. Hey, since you live here--" She tugged a piece of paper from her pocket, smoothed it on Xaeryn's desk "--any of these more must-see than others? It's such a big city," she laughed, "and I wanna make sure I see all the pretty stuff."

Xaeryn examined the list; preprinted on paper with a monogram from one of Haven's nicer hotels at the top. A few things had been crossed off already. "Well, if you're looking for pretty, you have to see Whitestone Cathedral. Even if you aren't religious, the architecture and stained glass windows are quite a sight." She marked a few others she thought would be good choices, from what she knew of Briony, to prioritize. "There you are."

"Thank you!" Briony picked up the list, folded it neatly this time, and gave Xaeryn a quick but ferocious hug. "And thanks again for helping with... everything."

"Of course," Xaeryn mumbled, caught off-guard by the hug. She didn't react fast enough to return it, but Briony didn't seem to notice. "I hope you have fun."

"I plan to!" Briony said brightly. She fluttered her fingers in a wave as she started for the door. "See you around, Xaeryn."

She nodded. It wouldn't surprise her if she did. "Tell Darius goodbye for me, hmm?"

"Sure," Briony grinned, and was gone with an enthusiastic slam of Xaeryn's door.

Xaeryn blew out a breath and rubbed the back of her neck. How does she have so much energy when it sounds like she was up even later than I was?

One of life's mysteries. She took advantage of being on her feet to tidy her kitchen from preparing breakfast. Her stomach growled, so she grabbed an apple to snack on as she headed back to her desk. She dug her notepad out of the handbag, spilling some of the other contents, but didn't mind the mess. She should probably swap handbags and clean this one with the state it was in. Right now she wanted to add a few final notes for this case while they were fresh in her mind.

Xaeryn glanced at the clock as she bit into the apple, surprised to see how much of the morning she'd napped away before Briony's arrival No wonder I had a crick in my neck. She bobbled the pencil she'd picked up back and forth and wondered if Red was still sleeping. Part of her hoped so. Yesterday had to have been even more of an ordeal for him than it had been for her.

The other part of her desperately, selfishly wanted to talk to him. Both as further assurance he really was alright and because there were thing she--they--needed to get in the open, had needed in the open since the gala at the very least.

"Nothing happened."

"Did you want it to?"

She shook off Pan's haunting question and bit into the apple again as she turned her attention to scribbling down closing notes. Her discovery of the Torch being thoret. Confirmation of who was involved with the theft. The Shepherds' role in the conclusion. She'd just finished notes and apple both when there was a flurried knock at the door.

Oh, One-God-- Her heart had dropped to her toes and she was halfway to her feet before she reined in her emotions. That knock was too light to be him.

Still, curiosity and manners had her crossing the room to open the door, and she blinked in surprise. "Miss Acquell?"

The museum curator beamed up at her from under the rim of a beige cloche hat with a pink flower embellishment, not appearing to notice her slip back to formality. "Sorry if I'm disturbing you, Miss Shrike, I know I had Mr. Syndran convey my gratitude, but I just had to come thank you in person for recovering Solimer's Torch."

Xaeryn smiled and stepped out of the doorway to let her enter the office. "You're very welcome. I imagine it's gratifying to have a completed collection now?"

"Oh, yes." Miss Acquell clasped her hands together ass if to keep them still. "We had to do some rearranging to work it into the exhibit, and I have Justyn trying to get hold of Ms. Aescar to let her know, but it's just berries having it back, such a weight off my shoulders." Her face colored. "Sorry for babbling, I'm just so grateful to have it back."

"You don't have to apologize for being happy. I'm glad I could be a help," Xaeryn said. "Did Mr. Syndran relay that the Torch is thoret and shouldn't be displayed too close to any magical artefacts? I know the museum uses shielded cases, but-"

"Oh, no, he didn't." Miss Acquell was frowning now.

Xaeryn paused, racking her brain. "Now that I think about it, I don't believe I told him that part, not last night at least. I was very tired and it may have slipped my mind. I do apologize for that." Hopefully the revelation wouldn't make too much extra work for the staff.

"Oh, it's alright." Miss Acquell waved off her apology in turn. "It's good to have it back, whatever we have to do to display it, we'll accommodate." She smiled again. "You are, of course, welcome to come see the exhibit any time."

"Since I'm finished with the case, I should have time to do that. I'd love to see it in all its glory, and under more leisurely circumstances than the gala." She'd been working that night, technically, even if she and Red had taken time to look around while they were there.

"We'd be happy to see you." Miss Acquell fidgeted with the sleeve of her jacket, picking at one curve of the lace trim. "I should get back, I just wanted to come say thank you; it didn't feel like enough to have someone pass it along."

"Well, you're very welcome, again," Xaeryn said with a chuckle. "I'm glad I could help." She held out a hand to shake.

Miss Acquell only hesitated a moment before taking it in a loose grip for a single shake. She rocked on the balls of her feet and bit her lip, hands once again clasped as if to still them. "Well, I'll see you around then, Miss Shrike."

"Sounds keen." She shifted to follow as the curator edged toward the half-open door. "Goodbye, Shery-"

Even as she spoke, there was a faint--but familiar--rushing sound and Red was standing in the hallway outside her office, one hand out to brace against the wall. He smiled sheepishly upon seeing Miss Acquell's startled expression. "Sorry! Shery, right? Good to see you again."

"A-And you," she managed. "But I was just leaving." She bobbed a curtsy to them both and scurried away.

"I hope I didn't scare her..." Red muttered. "I didn't think you'd have company."

"I have been dizzyingly popular this morning," Xaeryn said with a soft laugh, trying to ignore the way her heart had lodged in her throat. She'd had a plan for this, and it was completely flown away. "Did you really Travel just to cover half a city's distance, Liefred?"

He shrugged and ran his fingers through his hair. "It seemed faster than getting lost in Ashtown. That district is a maze. Why waste the time?"

She just shook her head with a fond smile as she led the way back into the office, trying to study him without being too obvious about it. There was no evidence of injuries beyond the minor ones she'd noted last night; scrapes, the split lip--which had scabbed over but was likely to reopening if he kept bothering it. Just over the couple minutes since his arrival, he'd scraped his teeth over it and sucked it in, probably to worry the scab with his tongue. Aside from not being good for the healing process, it was intensely distracting for her.

Even worse when Red caught her staring. He cleared his throat and leaned against her desk. "Exactly how early were you up that you had time to be dizzyingly popular, Xaer?"

"Around eight," she said, picking a hangnail. "Mr. Syndran needed an early appointment to finish settling accounts for it to fit with his schedule."

"Mm, yes, have to make sure you're rewarded for being a brilliant snooper," Red teased, his smile warm, half-distracted as he tried to read her notes sideways.

It was adorable watching him twist his head to decipher the shorthand, she she let him continue. His clothes were borrowed, she noted, and from someone not quite his height. The trousers were only about an inch shorter than proper, but even with the shirtsleeves rolled up, she could tell they would stop well short of his wrists, and it was tight in the shoulders as he leaned over her desk.

"I am surprised to see you before noo-" Xaeryn started to tease, before a glance at the clock showed it was, in fact, nearly noon.

He huffed a laugh, still reading. "You know I don't need a lot of sleep, Xaer."

"I know you can function on not a lot of sleep," she corrected. "But I figured between getting abducted and however late you you were up talking to the Shepherds, you would, perhaps, listen to your body for once. More the fool I, apparently."

"I only woke up five minutes before coming here, Ryn," he countered fondly. "Plenty of sleep. And I can always get more once I'm back at Solhadur--" He cut himself off, brows arching. "Thoret?" Looked up at her. "Solimer's Torch is composed of thoret?!"

Xaeryn nodded. "The original stone, at least. Obviously the decorative binding is different, but the stone itself is either thoret or some other rock heavily shot with it." She flexed her fingers. "Quite a fun discovery to make when I picked it up bare-handed."

Red winced in sympathy, bit his lip, winced again when the gesture caught the edge of the scab. "That does explain some things..."

"Mm. Why I couldn't scry on it, for one, or anything near it. Why you weren't able to escape the same way you just dropped in here..."

"Yes to all that, it also felt odd in that building; like the crawling edge of nausea, but I was thinking more historically."

Of course you were.

"Far as records show, the Solimer tribe almost never had Mages, so the Torch wouldn't have affected them in any special way. They tended to do their own thing and steer clear of other tribes, but the times they did come into conflict, single combat between chosen champions was the method of the time, and I'd bet the other tribes were more abundant in Mages, so if they, say, sent one as their champion..."

"... the Torch would act as an anti-magic ward," Xaeryn finished, "making it seem Solimer's champions were protected."

"I'd bet half my library, assuming that premise is correct, the tribe that defeated them sent a non-Mage champion for a fight." Red dragged his fingers through his hair and sat on the corner of the desk, despite two perfectly good chairs nearby. "And then it disappears for stretches because tribes would want to hold it for the victory it symbolized, but if there were enough Mages , they would feel the oddness and want it kept pack away... Too bad there's no way to prove it; it would pull in some real keen funding for more research if it's solid..."

"And, alternately, I could get my hands on half your library," Xaeryn needled, biting back a smile as she leaned against the desk next to him.

He gave a faux-hurt gasp. "Detective Shrike, you think I'm wrong?"

"Oh, probably not. You are almost as smart as I am," she teased back, "but your library's the bee's knees, and I'd love to get my hands on as much of it as I could fit in here."

"Mm, well, in absence of a way to prove me wrong," he said lightly, gaze surveying her mostly-full bookshelves rather than look at her, "you'll just have to come visit Solhadur to take advantage."

If I drive all the way to Capra, it's not the library I'll want to take advantage of. She cleared her throat. "I suppose I will, once my schedule's calm enough to take that kind of time."

"Oh, yes, your dizzying popularity," Red teased. He knew her preference for solitude. "You mentioned Mr. Syndran, and I saw Shery, who else...?"

"Before you? Just Briony, the pink-haired woman--"

"I remember." He nodded.

"I dropped my handbag at the warehouse when one of Kaza's mugs grabbed me, she was returning it."

Red flicked a glance toward the handbag and its contents. "I was wondering why it was strewn across your desk... Sorry I didn't realize you'd lost it, Ryn, or I would've looked--"

She waved off the apology. "I got it back and that's the important thing. You were understandably distracted." A self-deprecating chuckle. "I'm just happy I didn't lose two notepads in the course of one case."

"Oh!" Red started, pushing off the desk. "That reminds me... One thing I did find in there….” the words trailed off as he dug in his pocket. “I forgot to give it to you with all the chaos.” He pulled out her original notepad, the bluish-grey cover slightly worse for wear from its own adventure, and offered it to her.

Xaeryn gasped in delight as she took it. Kaza had hinted at having it, but she hadn’t thought to look with everything going on. “I can’t believe you found this! I thought it was gone forever.” She smiled and pivoted to wrap him in a tight hug. “Thank you, Liefred.”

Something flickered in Red's eyes before he hugged her back, fiercely, hands lingering, as if remembering yesterday, then withdrew. “I... wanted to ask you about something, Xaer.”

“Mm,” she prompted, still smiling, as she tucked the reclaimed notepad in her desk.

“I wasn't going to bring it up, but... You call Pan Pan because that’s his nickname. You called the museum curator Shery, I presume because she asked you to?” He tipped his head in a gesture toward where he’d just seen said curator and waited for her slight nod of confirmation. “So if you’ll take that step toward familiarity with them, why am I always Liefred when we’ve known each other for ages and I’ve told you, several times, you can call me Red?”

Her throat closed up and heart stuttered in her chest. There wasn’t any judgment in his tone, just curiosity, and maybe a little hurt. She’d been half-wondering if he’d picked up on that enough to bring it up again, and now she had her answer. There were several ways she, in turn, could answer his very good, very pertinent, question. Two of them were deflections. They would let her preserve friendly, professional distance. Remove the risk of gambling it all.

She didn’t want to give either of those. She wanted to tell the truth. The whole truth. 

We did say we wanted to talk about this.

Deep breath, Xaeryn.

“I told you,” Xaeryn said softly, “after the gala.” She swallowed hard, heart pounding. “It might be selfish, but the formality’s a level of check on myself so I don’t slip and do something dreadfully improper.” 

Red worried the scab on his lip with his thumb, considering. “What makes you so sure it would be improper?” he asked just as softly.

She laughed, a tight, breathless sound, and decided there had been enough hints dropped for the plunge to be worth it. “It’s fairly improper to kiss someone out of the blue without their permission, Liefred.”

She didn’t miss the way his breath caught, or how hard he swallowed before he reached for her hand, slowly, gently, as if trying not to spook a skittish ahfuri. “And… if you had their permission? Would it be proper then?”

Oh, One-God above, she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t. Her heart was pounding fit to crack her ribs. Her hand slipped into his like it belonged there.

“Do I?” she asked hoarsely, barely audible, gaze locked with his.

Red nodded and she was kissing him before any potential verbal confirmation had a chance to follow.

And he was kissing her back. At least until the cut on his lip reopened and he was forced to pull back. “Dammit,” he grumbled under his breath.

“It’s alright.” Xaeryn kissed his cheek, the giggle that escaped her only an inkling of the joy that bubbled in her chest. “I’ve waited this long, another sennight or two for you to heal won’t kill me.”

Red arched a brow, smile tugging at the side of his mouth furthest from the cut. “Is it egotistical of me to ask how long you’ve been wanting to do that?”

“Not at all,” she said with a laugh, watching him feel the cut and scowl at the blood on his fingers when he pulled them away. “Only if you promise you won’t laugh at me for being pathetic.” When he nodded agreement, she took a deep breath, flashed a sheepish smile, and confessed. “Since about when I was sixteen.”

Red burst out laughing.

Xaeryn huffed and moved to whack his arm. “You said you wouldn’t-”

“I’m not laughing at-ow-you, Xaer,” he assured her, catching her wrist with one hand while the heel of the other pressed against his split lip. “I’m laughing at me.”

She let her hand fall and shot him a curious look. “Why?”

Red raked the now-free hand through his hair, huffed another quiet laugh, and smiled at her with such wry amusement it almost made her laugh. “Because I’ve been at least half in love with you since sixteen and like an idiot didn’t say anything b’cause I didn’t think you felt the same-”

She kissed him again, split lip or no, she couldn’t help it.

“Ow,” he mumbled–or something like it–but he was smiling and he didn’t stop. His hand curved the back of her neck and hers curled into the collar of his shirt.

She could taste the metallic tang of blood from his lip until they parted with matching breathless laughs.

"So much for waiting another sennight or two," Red teased, lightly bumping his forehead to hers.

Xaeryn rolled her eyes, still holding him close by the shirt collar. "That was for fortification. Now I'll survive, I think."

He chuckled, thumb rubbing her cheek. "Fair enough. So, what now?"

She opened her mouth to reply, this was hardly familiar ground for her, but his stomach beat her to it, rumbling loudly. She arched a brow. "Food, apparently. Did you eat before coming over?"

"I didn't know where the Shepherds' dining hall was," he said with a sheepish shrug. "And you were more important."

Xaeryn shook her head and lightly smacked the back of his. "Honestly, Red--" she sighed in fond exasperation, grinning despite herself at the warmth of his words. "Fortunately for you, there's a fabulous café nearby, and I'm in the mood to treat for lunch."

Red smiled, warm and wide, eyes crinkling at the corners. "That is good luck."

"The only question is whether I should go order food to bring back and we can chin a bit here, or go cause a scandal eating there with you so underdressed--" she cut herself off, abruptly stepping around him to pick up the jacket tossed over one of the chairs by her bookshelf. His jacket, slightly rumpled from spending the night haphazardly tossed aside, but it would fit, and the deep grey charcoal color would complement the lighter grey of his borrowed trousers.

Red arched a brow, his eyes twinkling. "Should I be curious why you have my clothes, Ryn?"

"It was for scrying, Liefred," she said archly. "Trying to find you. Pan said I could--" Xaeryn stiffened. "Did you let him know you're alright? Because it completely slipped my mind with--"

"Yes," Red cut across her worry with a smile. "Last thing before I collapsed into bed." He laughed and ran a hand down his face. "I think I'm in for an earful when I get back to Solhadur, so however leisurely you want to make this lunch is keen with me."

Xaeryn smiled fondly as she gathered her handbag's content back into it. She'd worry about swapping it later. "I think you're in for a Panrachus-shaped shadow the next couple months," she corrected, biting back giddy butterflies as she looped her arm through his. "He was real worried with not much he could do to help, wondering if he'd stayed up to help you would it have prevented your abduction."

A shadow passed over his face as they stepped out the door. "I don't think it would've."

Knowing Heron had been involved, it wasn't hard to read the implication in his tone. "Which is what I told him." She paused to lock the door. "But you know how it is when you care about someone; something bad happens and you cant help wondering if you could've changed it."

Red nodded, giving her a warm smile. "I know." His stomach rumbled again.

Xaeryn chuckled and gave his arm a squeeze. "Let's get some food in you."

"That'd be the bee's knees."

---

It wasn't a far walk to find themselves swept up in the lunchtime bustle of her favorite café. The place was so full, the two of them wound up at a table tucked in the corner that didn't have nearly enough room for their legs. Xaeryn almost suggested taking the food back to her place, but she was still giddy over this being a date with Red and could bring herself to. It would be memorable, and the corner was a little quieter than the main lunchroom.

Red polished off two sandwiches and a large bowl of soup, barely slowing through the process. Xaeryn found her abbreviated breakfast had left her with more of an appetite than usual, though she still didn't equal him.

"I think, perhaps, food should have been a higher priority," she commented lightly. "Flattered as I am you rated me so important."

"I wasn't terribly hungry when I woke up," Red confessed, sucking a stray drop of soup off his thumb. "I considered breakfast, decided I didn't need it, didn't care to hunt down the dining hall, and was too antsy by half to talk to you."

"We were... rather overdue for that conversation, weren't we?" Xaeryn said, sliding her hand across the table to cover his.

"A bit," Red nodded. He sucked on his split lip a moment. "Xaer, about after the gala..."

"Oh, I would've kissed you, proper or no, had Pan not walked in when he did." A bit reckless a confession after all her worries about propriety, but she was too giddy to care.

He chuckled. "Good to know we're on the same page." A pause. "And you've... since sixteen? You're always so forthright, I'm both surprised and impressed you kept that under wraps so long."

"Well, you know..." She sighed, her heart fluttering as she rubbed her thumb over his hand. "I didn't want to risk messing up our friendship. I'm well aware I can be prickly and hard to get to know. You were one of the few who made it past the brambles and seemed to enjoy my company as much as I enjoy yours--"

"I do enjoy your company," Red interrupted.

"That's my point; I don't, and didn't, have many friends like that." She squeezed his hand. "The last thing I wanted to do was poison that by adding awkwardness of unreciprocated feelings. I was happy enough just having you as my friend."

"Even watching me date my way through the student body?" he asked wryly.

"Liefred, you're smart, handsome, charming, and kind." She shrugged. "I would have been offended on your behalf had any of them turned you down. But your turn--why did you say anything?"

"Because you're forthright, Ryn." Red turned his hand under hers and gave it a squeeze. "I may've thought about it a couple times, but... You've never held back from saying things that are important, or that you think I need to hear. I figured the reason you weren't saying anything is there was nothing to say on the matter. So I kept hoping if I told myself that enough times it would sink in and the feelings would fade, but they never did."

A pang of guilt surged in her chest. If she'd just made herself push the words past the lump that formed in her throat every time she tried...

"Xaeryn." He squeezed her hand harder, clearly sensing the turn of her thoughts. "Me resigning myself to that is not your fault. It was my choice not to say anything just as much as it was yours." He smiled, sheepish and boyish all in one. "Pair of brilliant idiots, we."

Xaeryn laughed, because he was right. Solhadur's best and brightest and couldn't even parse they were in love with each other. "Did..." She traced the rim of her glass. "Did any of those 'dating your way through the student body' have... potential?" She might hate herself for asking, but her curiosity demanded satisfaction. How close did I come to losing you to my own cowardice?

"Most were just fun, and we both knew it going in," Red said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There were a couple that might've gotten serious if... well, carrying a torch for my best friend was only one of the reasons nothing came of them in the end."

She nodded thoughtfully and glanced around the café. It was still full and they were done. "We should head back, free up a table."

He gave a distracted-sounding hum of agreement and pushed to his feet as she left a generous tip on the table. "Thanks for lunch."

"Of course." Xaeryn twined her arm through his and headed for the door. It wasn't until they were out on the street she spoke again, her shoulder pressed close to his. "D'you know how many times I almost asked you to come with me when I left?" A quiet laugh. "At least a dozen. But I always lost my nerve."

"That would have been fun," he said softly. "But it worked out."

"That it did," she smiled. All of it.

They moseyed back to her office, bumped gums some more, before Red looked at the clock and groaned.

"I should probably get back to Solhadur," he said leaning in to kiss her forehead, "before Pan thinks I got abducted again."

"You shouldn't joke..." Xaeryn protested half-heartedly, even as butterflies filled her chest at the casual affection. "But I suppose I should let you go home. You probably want to sleep more? Clothes that actually fit?"

"Yes to both." Red muffled a yawn and looked sheepish about it. "Feel free to visit whenever you like, Xaer, For me or the books."

She had a sneaking suspicion he'd be teasing about that for a while. She didn't care. "I'll do that." She kissed his cheek. "So much you'll get sick of me."

"Never happen," he said warmly, pulling her into a hug. "I like you too much," he whispered, resting his forehead to hers.

Xaeryn hugged him back. "Good," she said with a smile. "I like you too much, too." It was an effort to fight down the urge to kiss him again before she eased back. "I'll see you soon, Liefred."

"I'm not going to get you to stop that, am I?" he murmured, eyes dancing with laughter, as he squeezed her hands one last time before letting go. "I'll be seeing you, Xaeryn."

Red pulled the door closed behind him as he left, and she dropped into her chair, smiling wider than she ever had in her life.

There was always a rush at successfully completing a case, but none prior compared to this one. Xaeryn recalled that first meeting, the one she'd thought would be with Tevanti, and let out a small laugh. Of all the lovely surprises, indeed.

She had another success to add to her professional record, but more importantly, she had Red Antiqua back in her life. For good this time, and closer than ever.

Wish I could be there to see Pan's reaction, she mused, and got up to make herself some tea in celebration of a job well done on two fronts.

[kris-mage-fics]

Red 5+1 - Part 2 for finish your fics friday! love a five things fic :) - em

Red didn’t miss the subtle shift that passed over Kyrah’s face. Were he to hazard a guess, he’d say she was holding back from apologizing or disagreeing with him again. Instead, she nodded as she reached for her mug of vytas, cradling it in her hands before taking a sip. “Alright. So what happened in class today?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Truthfully, I wasn’t paying much attention because I was worried about you.” Her mouth opened then closed. After a breath she tried again. “So tell me what you do remember. Or at least what Wenefreda served for lunch today.”

for finish your fics friday Red finds out exactly when Kyrahlise's birthday is, and that she's from Vale, in this part. Which has him a bit panicked a couple of times. Because not much can prepare a person to handle learning that one of your best friends is the only survivor of an entire community disappearing, on said friend's birthday. Hell, a lot of adults wouldn't know what to do in that situation, and he's 15 in this part. She's trying to move past the emotional ordeal of telling him here, and not doing a great job. It's more than five sentences, but I got on a mini roll! Tbh, I'm glad you asked about this one, because I'm actually pretty close to finishing the first draft. Well, of this part anyways. I don't actually know if it will stay a five things fic or not. It may get broken up into individual fics that I put into a collection. The problem is, every time I write Red and Kyrah together it always runs away from me, lol!

[kadoodles-on-ao3]

I have just remembered I said I'd post those doodles lol

As you can see I was on my FFXIV-crossover kick at the time! Lizard Melia and Bunny Shulk, their true forms revealed...

I still have trouble drawing non-simplified stuff (like with actual eyes and noses and facial structure and all) but I rather like how this Melia turned out! :)

She's the most fun to draw for me, I love all the different shapes/arcs that make up her wings and bonnet and hair!!

There is also a bonus Bunny Shulk drawn by my boyfriend :)

[emeraldgreaves]

hmmm I will ask you about take your daughter to work day <3

send me a fic title so i’ll have to add five sentences and ramble about it

“What’s your name, kid?” [says Trouble.] I’m your age, she thinks, but the commander’s eyes feel like a long-range sniper sight from across the yard. Eyes in the back of his head doesn’t even begin to cover Blade Bronwyn. “Gwen,” she says. It’s not an uncommon name, and it’s not like there’s traces of her elsewhere. She tries to project inexperience as she unwraps her hands, aims for the right kind of first-week-new-recruit jumpy, not you-will-teach-me-to-shoot-one-day jumpy. Trouble claps familiarly her on the shoulder. “Welcome to the shepherds. We’re all cracked here.”

in which gwen gets separated from sarissa, and a couple of familiar faces show up. broader discussion of this AU here!

i say i’m not much of a kidfic person and then i chart out the rough extended family dynamic of aunts and uncles for all of the assorted kids. trouble being gwen’s favorite uncle/unofficial mentor is kind of my nod to gwen inheriting a lot of the qualities that made him and moira get along so well. my other favorite activity in this au is Putting Blade Through It. his paranoia is going to be an asset here, but not in the way he expects LMAO

[reverienne]

WHAT FORM OF LOVE DO YOU EMBODY?

I saw @lavampira taking this lovely quiz for their OCs a while ago and couldn’t resist the temptation of doing the same for mine!

JULIANDER STRZYGOMSKI, Chasemancer, ShoH:

love as tenderness [ love as gentleness after a lifetime of cruelty ]

when ocean vuong said "sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined" and when pablo neruda said "like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar" and when anais mitchell wrote "all i've ever known is how to hold my own, and now i wanna hold you, too”

BOGUMIŁA NIEPOŁOMSKA, Redmancer, ShoH:

love as a choice [ love is beautiful because it's built deliberately ]

when casey mcquinston wrote "that's the choice. i love him, with all that, because of all that, on purpose. i love him on purpose" and when jenny slate tweeted "i just want someone to grab my little face and scream on purpose, on purpose i am going to care about you" and when jodi picoult wrote "after fifteen years, love isn't just a feeling. it's a choice" and when the good place said "if soulmates do exist, they're not found they're made"

(specific answers below the cut)

JULIANDER STRZYGOMSKI:

a golden sunrise, promising a clear, warm day ahead

love can’t be defined by color

I had been lost to you, sunlight / And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight / Oh, your love is sunlight / Oh, your love is sunlight ("Sunlight")

The Creation of Adam by Michelango

"I'll take care of you / It's rotten work / Not if it's me. Not if it's you" (Anne Carson, Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides)

constantly. there is nothing worse than wavering affection. let love be steadfast, let it bleed into and command everything we say and do

a gentle hand cupping my cheek, telling me everything will be all right

in the hands

i witness you do something that paints the world scarlet. i take you into the bathroom and wash the blood from your hair

you say, show me love. i offer you my hands, open

like they are an oasis and you have stumbled upon them in a vast, barren desert. you kiss them like you're afraid they're a mirage, like they'll disappear if you stop

BOGUMIŁA NIEPOŁOMSKA:

a safe place, whether it’s a person or a building

the hue of gold, pure and lustrous

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around / And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice / Imagine being loved by me ("Talk")

torn between Birdman by Frank Franzetta and Intimacy by Angelica Alzona

"I’m tired, can’t think of anything and want only to lay my face in your lap, feel your hand on my head and remain like that through all eternity" (Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena)

softly. the burning passion of lust only lasts for so long, but the steady, gentle affection of genuine love endures forever

an anchor mooring me to shore in a stormy, churning sea

in the eyes

i take the same path. even though a million of them exist, i always take the one that leads to you.

there's a lot of messed up stuff happening, sure, and a lot of stuff i regret. but this? us? i wouldn't trade us for anything, not for the whole world

like you want them to remember each touch, each movement, each word. like you have never been in this moment before, and you never will be again

[consulaaris]

love in the little things 

shepherds of haven (@shepherds-of-haven​). red antiqua / f!MC (rhiannon vasi). ~1.3k words. 

.

Every time Rhiannon thinks she’s got her life under control, something comes back to bite her. Change has always felt a bit like a threat— she finds herself uncomfortable, out of her depth. She likes things to be predictable and people to be kept at an arm’s distance. 

Red… is a complication. 

She can’t bring herself to say it’s a bad thing, though, having her old friend around these past weeks. Even when he inadvertently storms through the walls she’s spent a decade building like they’re made of paper— and when every moment she spends with the other mage reminds her of why she’d fallen for him all those years ago. 

He'd asked her to meet this morning on their shared day off, so here Rhia finds herself standing wrapped in a warm cloak in the courtyard of the Shepherds’ compound, gray eyes blinking blearily at being drawn from her bed so early. 

(If it were anyone else, she’d have told them to chew on rocks. ) 

It’s fairly empty of other Shepherds so far. Mist clings to the top of the tower, and the quiet, cloudy start to the day has Rhia feeling especially drowsy. She’s half entertaining the potential of leaving Red a note and retreating to the warmth of her blankets when she sees him enter the courtyard and instantly perks up. His height and shock of scarlet hair make him easy to pick out, and though she’d grumble if asked, Rhia can’t deny that her heart flutters at the way his handsome face lights up when he notices her waiting. 

“I got these for you!” Red calls out in lieu of a greeting as he jogs over, and he’s a little out of breath as he hands a little paper bag to her, holding it like some precious thing. 

After an instant of surprised hesitation Rhia takes it, curiously unfolding the top and peering inside. Within lay two fresh strawberry pastries, their fruity, buttery scent wafting upwards from the bag. Her mouth opens in a perfect “o”, because she recognizes these treats, from her favorite little bakery halfway across Haven— the one she seldom goes to, because it’s so far away, and often everything but plain bread is sold out not long after sunrise.  

She’s still trying to calculate just how damned early Red must’ve woken up for this when she hears him shifting in front of her.

“If you don’t like them, I can get a different flavor.” Red rubs the back of his neck, laughing. Though his posture is relaxed, he’s buzzing with an energy Rhia can’t quite put her finger on. “And they might not be warm anymore, since it took me a while to get back here—” 

“No!” Rhia blurts out, before realizing she’d interrupted him, and her face flushes “No, no, I— they— these are my favorites. They’re perfect.” 

She knows full well she’s rambling now, but the broad smile on Red’s face is enough to light up a room and she can’t quite bring herself to care. 

“I remembered how much you loved strawberry pastries at the Circle, and figured you still might.” 

All of the air flees her lungs in an instant, leaving Rhia feeling a bit like she’d been tossed into a freezing lake. For all she’s done to try and convince herself that she hadn’t mattered, that her childhood friends were better off without her and that she’d be a long-forgotten memory, he… Red had remembered. Such a small detail, but she feels the truth, the genuine affection behind the gesture. That had to count for something. 

Her breath, catching in her throat, feels like the sting of an affection that lurks so deep and raw within her, Rhia thinks she might burst from it.

(A pain, too, in equal measure.)

It takes a split second to collect her composure, but even so for a moment all she can muster is a quiet, emotional, “Thank you.” 

And then she does something very, very stupid. 

Rhia impulsively throws her arms around Red, pulling him tight in a hug just like he’d done with her the day they’d reunited. And when his arms wrap around her in turn, warm and comforting, she tries not to think too hard about how right it feels. Tries not to think of how Red’s all-too-familiar scent of juniper and ink reminds her of the things she’s never going to be able to have. Most of all she tries, desperately, to convince herself that none of this pity— that he’s not mourning the person she used to be, doing this because he feels he must (because Red would, he would, and as selfish as Rhia knows she is, she can’t bear the thought). 

But perhaps she is still the same, in some ways. Maybe even the ones that matter. 

The bag of little pastries still gripped in her hand can attest to that.

When she pulls away, face flushed crimson, Rhia pushes back a few strands of dark hair that had escaped from her braid. Finds herself staring at the ground, at rough cobblestone that’s suddenly far more interesting than the pair of pretty green eyes focused right on her— though she’s unable to refrain from peeking up at Red through her lashes. 

“I’ll take that as a sign you like my surprise,” Red says, lightly, but he can’t keep the dazzling grin from his face, nor the slight flush from his tanned cheeks. There’s a softness in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners— a tender expression that makes her chest ache with the force of it. 

“This is how you used to look at me,” she wants to say. But Rhia’s a coward and always has been, so she keeps her mouth shut. 

Instead she raises an eyebrow at him imperiously, trying to pretend like she hadn’t just bared her heart for him to see. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Even after all these years, he can read her well enough to know she’s teasing. Red laughs, brushing his fingers lightly against her arm, and not for the first time Rhiannon wishes that he weren’t so easy to love. 

Instead of saying anything further she opens the paper bag, mouth watering at the sight of the pastries, and plucks one out— before tilting it towards towards Red in silent offering. 

Red merely laughs, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “No, they’re both for you. My treat.” 

Rhia purses her lips. “It’d be no fun to eat them alone.” 

“You’ve never shared your pastries,” he says mildly.

“I do with you.” 

A pause. 

Red’s eyes widen slightly. 

The silence lingers a moment, something both tense and soft between them. It says too much and not enough all at once, but it’s as honest as she can bring herself to be in the moment. 

It’s Red who breaks the quiet, as his lips curve into a gentle smile. “If you insist.” 

He agrees to take the remaining treat only on the condition that she take the first taste of her own— and that, she has no qualms about.

Rhia’s burning cheeks slowly fade as they chat and nibble on their breakfast, walking the streets of Haven near the compound. The conversation between them flows as naturally as it ever had, and if there’s a few topics she avoids, Red doesn’t seem to mind. They’ve got years of catching up to do, to learn each other all over again; but it’s easier, the second time, to fall back into familiar patterns and inside jokes. Still, something in her begs for more, more, and no matter how much Rhia thinks she can’t bear to hurt him the way she’s hurt everyone else she’s loved, she can’t quite stamp down that flicker of hope.

But her heart is full; and with the taste of the berries and powdered sugar sweet on their tongues, laughing together about the crumbs coating Red’s face, Rhia accepts that this has to be enough. 

[kiryll-antiqua]

Envoy

There was a package for him in the usual place at the usual time where Kiryll expected to recieve gifts a certain someone insisted on giving him. He expected them to cease with Varis's passing, but they kept coming at their appointed time.

The gifts were almost always practical or perishable things that Kiryll seemed to express some passing interest in. They would end up in his hands, discreetly packaged, without fail, every two months, despite his own insistence that it was unneeded.

"Let me do this, if you will not allow me to have your enemies slain for you."

Currency given out only to those who participated in the games at the Wolves Den, which he himself was once too timid to join, a fresh loaf of bread, still warm, from the most expensive bakery in town, a dip pen handle made of inlaid mother of pearl, depicting a beautiful white bird with long tail feathers, all things that were untraceable and easy to dismiss as innocuous and not out of place.

Surely there was some envoy still watching him. He had never caught the deliverer of the packages, partially out of lack of curiosity and partially not wanting to learn if it was someone he knew already. But Varis was dead and the Empire with it, so this should have stopped.

Two months was enough of the passage of time that it was easy to forget, and Kiryll was becoming more and more fed up with Ul'dah the longer he stayed there, but he wanted to know who it was who was still sending him things.

It was very easy to think that one in this city truly cared for him except his mother. People had certainly been apt to use him when they discovered he was kind despite looking too Garlean to be trustworthy. Even as a Warrior of Light, he felt like he could sense certain people's derision without even having a conversation with him, but his journey and meeting friends who treated him well had reduced his misanthropic worldview. Still, Ul'dah had lost its charm, and telling himself no one cared for him made it easy for him to think about leaving.

He stood up as if it were Starlight Eve, waiting for this mysterious courier in the hallway to his apartment. Despite his presence, the courier approached.

The envoy ended up indeed being someone he knew, a scrappy miqote girl who called herself Grizabella, who had "adopted" him despite being at least ten years his junior.

"Griz, no."

"Kiryll, I..."

"Why?"

"Look, I know this looks terribly suspicious, but if it's anything, I did replace the original courier after knocking them out for stalking you. I agreed to take up package delivery after I saw them lift your mood."

Kiryll was trying to break the habit of crying at the drop of a hat these days, but as usual, his tears couldn't be contained. "I would rather this stop. I've been thinking about leaving anyway."

"I guess I gotta tell the guy, then."

Kiryll folded his arms and straightened up. "And just who is this guy, Griz?"

"Another go between. There's loike, four or five that rotate for security purposes or sommat."

Kiryll sighed. "Of course." It made all the sense in the world for Varis to have gone overboard with his contingencies.

Grizabella tried to change the subject by lifting the package up for him to look at, and he reluctantly took it. It was a teacup in the style he had dimly remembered his grandmother owning in his early childhood. It wasn’t anything that had belonged to her, but close enough in style that it still evoked a sense of nostalgia. "Ohh! This one's right pretty, it is!"

"These things are always beautiful in their own way. I think I should rather whatever infrastructure is behind this to start giving to the poor instead. I obviously won't be giving up any of them, but when I move, they'll just be stolen off my doorstep anyway." The teacup was bright red and made of some kind of translucent ceramic or crystal, painted with gold filigree in abstract vines and flowers that reminded him of certain decorative motifs he had also seen in the fairytale books his aunt had read him and his sister about Ivalice.

Varis had also loved the tale of the Vagrant, and had probably been read to from a much fancier copy of the tale in the palace. Kiryll shook his head to keep himself from dissociating in front of Grizabella, though.

"So, if you want fings to be donated to the poor, I can arrange it. Mostly what I end up getting are instructions and money to purchase fings, 'cept in cases like this one where it's an import."

"I would be much happier if we could use that to make sure the orphanage is well stocked with donated goods in a sustainable way. That's what I tend to try to do with all of my feelings about him. Try to turn it around and cleanse it until its good intent is actually usable."

"Kiryll, I know the Empire was bad and he was bad, too, but. You don't 'ave to spend all of your time trying to fix or clean fings or transform them until they seem acceptable. It's clear that he really seemed to 'ave feelings for you, tyrant or no, paragon to 'is own people, but unable to stop thinking about you." She stopped, realizing she had probably said too much. If she had just played it cool, it would have escaped Kiryll's notice.

"And how do you know that, Griz?"

"I ain't ever met 'im meself, but wiv working with the other couriers, they 'ad the complaint."

Kiryll let himself smirk. "Loyal Imperial spies sworn to secrecy, leaking the scandal wasn't worth the price they knew they'd pay, perhaps."

"Ain't no stakes in it now, so I dunno what's what anymore, but I took a part in it because you stopped smilin', and I couldn't fink of any other way to do it than remain giving you the gifts he intended to send you. There’s a bit of a backlog, wiv local provisioning requests interwoven. A lot of thought went into this."

Kiryll scratched his head nervously. "Of course there is..."

"Would you like to get biscuits? I don't know if I should just leave you 'ere alone after all this."

Kiryll nodded. During the last string of adventuring with the Scions, he had learned how important a measure of rest was. "There are several places still open at this hour. I can treat us. I'm good for it."

"I know you are! 'At's why I keep you around!"

Kiryll placed the teacup on his counter, grabbed a coat and locked his door.

[murdermeadow]

and it's up! hope you all enjoy

[antiqua-lugar]

Gale: I've missed them. I've missed this.

2. We still have each other. That's all I ever need.

Gale: I'm not sure I'll ever get over my good fortune in that respect. You are the happiness I never dreamed I could deserve.

Apparently you only get this line if Tara is busy around camp when you talk to Gale. To really hammer home how Gale really wasn't happy even before the Orb and thought he would never deserve *check notes* ...the happiness of someone loving him as a person.

...anyway if you pick option 4, he admits he would like to write down a book on all that happened! Perhaps with some embellishments! Yay!

[eccebitch]

another day thinking about cicero against my will

[yeli-renrong]

Before the development of modern scientific nomenclature, natural philosophers used logograms to represent the concepts of their trade. These logograms constituted a library of symbols that could be repurposed, as for example by Linnaeus, who used ♄ for woody plants, ♃ for herbaceous perennials, ♂ for biennials, and ☉︎ for annual plants, or extended by derivation, as with the alchemical symbols 🜆 for aqua regia and 🜅 for aqua fortis, straightforwardly derived by ligature from the logogram 🜄 aqua and the Latin letters R and F. (Here cf. the derivation of the Linear B ideogram 𐂓 from the syllabic characters 𐀏𐀡.) While in some cases these characters had clear derivations, in others they were functionally unanalyzable, as with the symbol for lead, ♄, originally a ligature of the first two characters in the Greek name of Saturn, Κρόνος.

(source)

They also had different meanings in different contexts: Linnaeus used ♂ (elsewhere meaning 'iron' or 'Mars') for both biennials (an arbitrary extension) and male plants, and ♀ (elsewhere meaning 'copper' or 'Venus') for female plants.

Some of these symbols are still used today: the symbols for 'male' and 'female' are widely understood, and new astronomical symbols have been created for Earth and the minor planets. However, in some German alchemical manuscripts, the practice of logographic writing combined with the practice (also found in many English manuscripts) of writing Latin in antiqua as vs. the usual blackletter combined to produce a triscriptal system, almost like Japanese:

In German, verbs loaned from Latin often take the infinitive suffix -ieren; note the words 'calcini𝔯𝔢𝔱' and 'ſepari𝔯𝔢𝔱', with Antiqua stems and blackletter endings.

[typefacetournament]

ROUND 5

Propaganda under the cut.

Libre Baskerville: "Libre Baskerville is a pleasing font to read. The uniform letters still maintain their style, with added curves when needed, with the serif as a finishing touch.", "close enough to times new roman to fool any nitpicky English teacher, but a few pixels bigger to pad out the length of your essays. and it rules", "my boner"

Book Antiqua: "When writing anything that needs some frills (and doesn’t have to be a specific font), this is my go to. I prefer the weight to TNR, and the serifs are honestly really pretty. Discovered it while looking for a more pleasing alternative to TNR and have been using it since"

[moraxsthrone]

✦ title — respite

✦ pairing — zhongli x reader, morax x reader

✦ wc — 700+

✦ notes — just finished historia antiqua: act II and was moved to tears to write this.

✦ synopsis — a beautiful partnership with morax that ended hundreds of years ago in tragedy. you meet again at the end of his life. or is it the beginning?

✦ song — all that matters ; justin bieber (just fucking listen, okay?)

“you may live forever, doomed to a lonely existence…yet even this is temporary. when you reach the end of time, those people, those past and future relationships predetermined by fate…they will be waiting for you.” - azhdaha, to zhongli (i think i got the last line right. i accidentally hit the space bar ingame before i finished typing the quote ahaha oops.)

you had children together…the memories of having lost all of you still rips his heart asunder. he loved you all fiercely. but it’s been so long now, he can hardly remember your face; he’s all but forgotten those of your children. but he remembers your voices. the laughter of his younglings as they played, running in circles around his legs, filling his heart with the swell of love. 

he can still hear your veracious heartbeat against his ear as he lay his head on your bare chest after making passionate love to you; the sensation of your naked bodies lying together, skin on skin, sweaty and spent...he can’t remember it anymore. but he can still hear your sweet voice whispering next to his ear,

“morax, i love you endlessly.”

when his time on earth finally comes to an end, he makes his way along the path of the afterlife. his way is trimmed with gold and crystals of such fine quality that even he, the old god of geo, cannot fathom. as he lumbers along, he hears the distant sound of laughter. his heartbeat quickens; he hadn’t conjured that angelic sound in lifetimes, but he knows it when he hears it. 

as he continues along the path, several figures emerge ahead. one is taller than the others, and surrounded in light. the smaller bodies playfully circle the hem of its flowing ankle-length dress, tiny chuckles surrounding what, by all rights, appear in zhongli’s eyes to be a goddess. as he draws nearer, he recognizes your voices but his mind dares not allow his heart to be so presumptuous or hopeful. 

“morax…”

“zhongli, hm?”

he smiles.

“funeral parlor consultant?”

his knowing smile widens at being found out, a chuckle threatening to escape.

“you faked your own death so you could retire in peace…but forgot to set aside a retirement fund?”

“it seems you’ve been keeping an eye on me.”

your laughter puts his old broken heart back together. “indeed! you’ve always had the most idiosyncratic sense of humor and forgotten the minutest of details. perhaps if you had been the dendro archon, you could better see the forest for the trees.”

morax would make a fool of himself a million years over to be the source of your joy. his heart blooms at the sight of your smile - more beautiful than the most meticulous painting; more moving than the most lifelike sculpt of the finest artists; the sound of your laughter more celestial than any song ever performed in all of teyvat, including that of the drunken, insufferable bard that, for reasons he will never comprehend, his old friend barbatos chose to inhabit as his vessel. 

“so…that means you saw-”

“everything.”

he averts his eyes as the reel of his most recent past plays in his mind. had you also seen him with his subsequent lovers?

as though having read his mind, you close the gap between you, bringing a hand - glowing an ethereal light blue - to his face. “it’s okay, my love,” you assure him. “i’ve only ever wanted for your happiness. i never expected to be the last love in your long life.”

his amber eyes find familiarity in your gaze, a sense of home in your touch. “but you'll always be the best,” he says, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist, your scent there reminding him of home as well.

you smile lovingly as you eliminate what little space remained between your ethereal bodies. the cherubic voices of his young children now dance around the bare feet of both their bearers. with your attention drawn to them and their obvious love and affection for their father, you ask him, finally, 

“will you be staying with us, morax?”

“yes.” he cups your delicate jaw in his golden hand. “there is nowhere else i would rather be, my love,” he mutters, the warmth of his breath dusting your face before he reclaims your lips, relinquishing the entirety of his past - his rise, his reign, his ruin - to his final resting place, with you.

zhongli m.list

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