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LadyAnnaLee
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Oh good question. The Sols are generally seen as unapproachable outside of formal audience with them. They tend to be kind of aloof, and if they’re out in public (which is rare) the Taja make it difficult to get near them.
But if it was Darin? Don’t know. Maybe they might give small bits of stones like carnelian or onyx or some other semi precious stone bit, possibly with a simple carving on it (really simple).
But if it was Darin? Don’t know. Maybe they might give small bits of stones like carnelian or onyx or some other semi precious stone bit, possibly with a simple carving on it (really simple).
The sky darkened and clouds swirled overhead. The change was sudden, and sailors who were about to embark abruptly shook their heads and moored their boats once more. They could not be paid any money to go out under conditions as ominous and mysterious as these. Istaerih was in a mood, they said, and it would not do to test her. For once, the marketplace fell eerily quiet as all its patrons stopped and looked up towards the palace, many wondering what kind of ill omen this foretold. And yet a roving band of children, often found together roaming the streets and beaches while their parents worked, looked up with awe and wonder. Somehow, they knew. The eldest and tallest of the group stopped, put a hand on the shoulder of the boy nearest her age and said with a soft gasp, "Astra-Sol..."
Ajoran was breathless. What began as a soft but noticeable change in the wind picked up quickly to a swirling torrent that flung his ponytail skyward and snapped the fabric of his uri. Just beyond the circle of Darin's storm, a few swirling, indistinct figures appeared from the vast dust before them. They came first as tiny whirlwinds of sand and dust, and then the particles began to take shape, forming the suggestions of rippling hair framing faces with bright, sunlit eyes. The Azurei called them 'architects', or itis'ri, for it was said that they were the spirits of the wind, and that they shifted the landscape of the Dust Sea to their whims and fancies. The figures seemed to bow to Darin, and then faded away. Ajoran had always believed in the legitimacy of the itis'ri as more than just a legend but truth be told, he'd never seen one for himself. Nor had he seen firsthand Darin's power. Ridahne had mentioned it, of course, but the description did no justice to the real thing.
Tears still wetting her face, Ridahne snarled gleefully, hatefully, reveling in the absolute erasure of the woman who had done so much evil, so much damage to Azurei, to Astra, and to her. She could feel the wind and the stone and the lightning. Not like Darin could, and she could never command them, but she felt their presence as a faint tickle in the back of her mind, a suggestion of not being alone. Strange things happened to her senses whenever Darin did things like this. Whether it was a dream, or a vision of what Darin was doing a few seconds before it actually happened, or some extra sensing of the world, Ridahne's connection to the seed meant that grand gestures like these touched her too, in a way. Ridahne stood, feeling, and perhaps even indulgently imagining that the lightning strike was her wrath, the wind was her grief, and the stones her resolve. It made her feel like her impotent rage actually had some bite, like she could still strike out against the woman who had so wronged her.
What was her name, again?
The storm eased, slipping back into normal tranquility as the pillar of fused stone crackled a little as it cooled. Ridahne wiped her face clean, but her mouth was hanging open. What was her name? Khal...Kha..no. Did it start with an S? Ridahne could no longer remember. Shocked, but also immeasurably and darkly pleased, she turned to Ajoran. "Ajoran! The woman who is buried here...what was her name?"
He blinked. "You know that..."
"Just answer the question. You know her name, yes?"
"Obviously...It's..." He'd started out with confidence, and then it was as if the breath was stolen from his lungs. His shoulders drooped a little as he frowned in concentration. "Her name was...ah...oh..."
Ridahne shouted in triumph and threw her arms around Darin. She squeezed her hard for a moment, then drew back enough to press her forehead to Darin's while she cupped the human's face between each of her hands. It was a deeply sincere and intimate gesture, especially in public, but Ridahne meant it. "Thank you. Ai! Thank you! This is a gift! I'm free, I feel free! Stars above, it's like I'm breathing for the first time!" Her voice hitched in a small sob. "Consider this my wedding gift. It is the best thing I could ask for, what you've done. Thank you!"
Behind them, standing in the doorway to the palace, were two elegantly robed figures: Hanasa-Sol, Khaltira's replacement, and Amaiera-Sol, the Sota-Sol. They'd come to see the commotion, and now looked at Darin with silent expressions of understanding. Amaiera-Sol nodded once, as if in approval, and then she and Hanasa-Sol disappeared back inside.
Ridahne sniffled, still shaking with adrenaline from joy and rage and anger and grief. "Well um," she couldn't help a little laugh. "What do you want to do? Climb trees for coconuts?"
Ajoran was breathless. What began as a soft but noticeable change in the wind picked up quickly to a swirling torrent that flung his ponytail skyward and snapped the fabric of his uri. Just beyond the circle of Darin's storm, a few swirling, indistinct figures appeared from the vast dust before them. They came first as tiny whirlwinds of sand and dust, and then the particles began to take shape, forming the suggestions of rippling hair framing faces with bright, sunlit eyes. The Azurei called them 'architects', or itis'ri, for it was said that they were the spirits of the wind, and that they shifted the landscape of the Dust Sea to their whims and fancies. The figures seemed to bow to Darin, and then faded away. Ajoran had always believed in the legitimacy of the itis'ri as more than just a legend but truth be told, he'd never seen one for himself. Nor had he seen firsthand Darin's power. Ridahne had mentioned it, of course, but the description did no justice to the real thing.
Tears still wetting her face, Ridahne snarled gleefully, hatefully, reveling in the absolute erasure of the woman who had done so much evil, so much damage to Azurei, to Astra, and to her. She could feel the wind and the stone and the lightning. Not like Darin could, and she could never command them, but she felt their presence as a faint tickle in the back of her mind, a suggestion of not being alone. Strange things happened to her senses whenever Darin did things like this. Whether it was a dream, or a vision of what Darin was doing a few seconds before it actually happened, or some extra sensing of the world, Ridahne's connection to the seed meant that grand gestures like these touched her too, in a way. Ridahne stood, feeling, and perhaps even indulgently imagining that the lightning strike was her wrath, the wind was her grief, and the stones her resolve. It made her feel like her impotent rage actually had some bite, like she could still strike out against the woman who had so wronged her.
What was her name, again?
The storm eased, slipping back into normal tranquility as the pillar of fused stone crackled a little as it cooled. Ridahne wiped her face clean, but her mouth was hanging open. What was her name? Khal...Kha..no. Did it start with an S? Ridahne could no longer remember. Shocked, but also immeasurably and darkly pleased, she turned to Ajoran. "Ajoran! The woman who is buried here...what was her name?"
He blinked. "You know that..."
"Just answer the question. You know her name, yes?"
"Obviously...It's..." He'd started out with confidence, and then it was as if the breath was stolen from his lungs. His shoulders drooped a little as he frowned in concentration. "Her name was...ah...oh..."
Ridahne shouted in triumph and threw her arms around Darin. She squeezed her hard for a moment, then drew back enough to press her forehead to Darin's while she cupped the human's face between each of her hands. It was a deeply sincere and intimate gesture, especially in public, but Ridahne meant it. "Thank you. Ai! Thank you! This is a gift! I'm free, I feel free! Stars above, it's like I'm breathing for the first time!" Her voice hitched in a small sob. "Consider this my wedding gift. It is the best thing I could ask for, what you've done. Thank you!"
Behind them, standing in the doorway to the palace, were two elegantly robed figures: Hanasa-Sol, Khaltira's replacement, and Amaiera-Sol, the Sota-Sol. They'd come to see the commotion, and now looked at Darin with silent expressions of understanding. Amaiera-Sol nodded once, as if in approval, and then she and Hanasa-Sol disappeared back inside.
Ridahne sniffled, still shaking with adrenaline from joy and rage and anger and grief. "Well um," she couldn't help a little laugh. "What do you want to do? Climb trees for coconuts?"
"It's funny," Ridahne mused between bites. "I used to hate fish. Not that I thought it was gross--I grew up on it. It's just that it was most of what we ate, being fishermen and all. I got so sick of it that when I first came to the palace, I almost never ate fish because there were other options available to me. And now that I've been so far away from the sea for so long, it's been a while since I've had good fish. Never ever thought I'd miss it, but I do."
Ajoran studied Darin. "So you do not live near the sea, then? Was this the first time you've seen it, coming down here?" Ajoran was from the mountains on the edge of Azurei, so not especially close to the coast. But he'd been to the sea even as a boy. And though he couldn't see it every day like Ridahne had, he could not imagine what it would be like to know he could not make the effort to see it with relative accessibility.
Ridahne smirked as Darin told of her dislike of sleeping alone. "Honestly, it was good fun to go back to the barracks. And they put up with me relatively well. But I wasn't entirely welcome either. We were probably going to sleep in the rooms they provided us tonight, but don't feel like you have to stay away." Ridahne never said it outright, but it was odd for her to sleep away from Darin, too. She knew sometimes Darin liked to sleep with the horses, as they were as much her family as Ridahne was. But she put out the offer anyway.
At last they finished their breakfast, and wordlessly Ridahne got up and began to head towards the gardens. The time had come. But when Ridahne reached the doorway, Ajoran stopped her. She looked questioningly back at her fiancé, and he could see some of the anxiety roiling around behind her eyes. "She's not there, Isfahan," he said gently.
"Not in the burial grounds?" The idea seemed ludicrous. Where else would she be?
"No. Come, I'll show you."
Ajoran led the way, diverting from the doorway that led out to the gardens and headed to the back of the palace, through a hallway frequented by various servants, and out a small, unadorned doorway. Outside the door were stacks of firewood, barrels, crates, and other containers for storage of various goods or materials. Beyond the brick-paved patio was the same dry, scrubby landscape that seemed to be most of this region of Azurei. Not quite the Dust Sea, and not quite honest soil. And a few paces off lay a white, lopsided stone that might once have been a brick of the palace itself long ago. It was starkly out of place among the red-brown dirt, and Ridahne did not have to be told to know it was all that served for a grave marker. No name was painted or chiseled onto the stone. No title, no offerings of wilted flowers, no smear of black tattoo ink across the face of the stone.
Ridahne bristled immediately. She'd been relatively calm up until that point, and now that it had come to the actual moment, she wasn't sure what to do or how to feel. Ajoran's thick fingers found Ridahne's palm and touched it lightly, as if to offer only the suggestion of a hand-hold. Ridahne's slim fingers coiled around his, and her other hand reached out to grab Darin's. Her grip was hard. Cold. Vicelike. Yet she didn't take any more steps forward--not yet--and Ajoran did not lead her further. Ridahne was quiet. And yet, as she stood there, eyes fixed to the white stone as if she thought she could vaporize it with only her gaze, Ajoran could feel an intensity rise up in Ridahne. It was a slow, soft thing at first, and then he could feel it like the heat radiating from a forge. And like fire, it was uncomfortable to be so close to, or it would have been if it had been anyone else standing with her. But these were her people, and they both knew by now the virulence of Ridahne's ire once it was stirred.
Like a cork bursting out of a bottle under too much pressure, Ridahne shot forward suddenly with a low growl in her throat and descended on the patch of unadorned dirt with all the viciousness of a demon from some dark underworld. She kicked at the dirt, sending curtains of red dust flying with each strike. She released a scream, an animal howl into the quickly-warming dawn and then spat, picking up rocks and hurling them away with startling force. And then came the curses. Some were rather universal, and some version of them existed in every corner and every tongue of Astra. Others seemed rather specifically Azurian, and referenced some cultural concept or another. Ridahne cursed in Azurian, in Orosi, in Eluri, in the speech of the humans, and what little siren curses she knew. She wished that Khaltira's face would decay first (a particularly nasty sentiment in Azurei), she called upon the animals of the wild to come and exhume what was left of her body to gnaw the bones. She cried out to the Keeper, beseeching them to see the truth of the evil soul in its care and deal with her accordingly. She vowed that her name would be forgotten, and her legacy would be dust. And most of all, she cursed the woman for ultimately being the reason Ridahne lost her friend and working partner, Takhun. In very rapid Azurian, she kept shouting, "YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME. YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!" Again and again until at last she drew in a breath to scream again, but the air caught in her lungs and came out instead as a gasping sob.
Ajoran had stood back, letting Ridahne do what she needed to do on her own. But when he heard that sudden change, he went to her and wrapped his arms around her firmly. She sagged into him, and he was practically holding her upright. She'd spoken her piece, and unsurprisingly, she felt no bittersweet gratitude towards the traitorous woman for causing the chain of events that led her to Darin. The Sota-Sol got that pass. Darin might never love the matriarch, but Ridahne knew her and knew her heart was just. Her actions could be forgiven for their eventual good outcome. But not Khaltira. No matter what good this path had brought her to, Khaltira's actions caused Ridahne to murder people she would rather have left alive. And that left a dark, bloody stain on her soul that no amount of good deeds would ever wash away, and that could not be forgiven.
Ajoran studied Darin. "So you do not live near the sea, then? Was this the first time you've seen it, coming down here?" Ajoran was from the mountains on the edge of Azurei, so not especially close to the coast. But he'd been to the sea even as a boy. And though he couldn't see it every day like Ridahne had, he could not imagine what it would be like to know he could not make the effort to see it with relative accessibility.
Ridahne smirked as Darin told of her dislike of sleeping alone. "Honestly, it was good fun to go back to the barracks. And they put up with me relatively well. But I wasn't entirely welcome either. We were probably going to sleep in the rooms they provided us tonight, but don't feel like you have to stay away." Ridahne never said it outright, but it was odd for her to sleep away from Darin, too. She knew sometimes Darin liked to sleep with the horses, as they were as much her family as Ridahne was. But she put out the offer anyway.
At last they finished their breakfast, and wordlessly Ridahne got up and began to head towards the gardens. The time had come. But when Ridahne reached the doorway, Ajoran stopped her. She looked questioningly back at her fiancé, and he could see some of the anxiety roiling around behind her eyes. "She's not there, Isfahan," he said gently.
"Not in the burial grounds?" The idea seemed ludicrous. Where else would she be?
"No. Come, I'll show you."
Ajoran led the way, diverting from the doorway that led out to the gardens and headed to the back of the palace, through a hallway frequented by various servants, and out a small, unadorned doorway. Outside the door were stacks of firewood, barrels, crates, and other containers for storage of various goods or materials. Beyond the brick-paved patio was the same dry, scrubby landscape that seemed to be most of this region of Azurei. Not quite the Dust Sea, and not quite honest soil. And a few paces off lay a white, lopsided stone that might once have been a brick of the palace itself long ago. It was starkly out of place among the red-brown dirt, and Ridahne did not have to be told to know it was all that served for a grave marker. No name was painted or chiseled onto the stone. No title, no offerings of wilted flowers, no smear of black tattoo ink across the face of the stone.
Ridahne bristled immediately. She'd been relatively calm up until that point, and now that it had come to the actual moment, she wasn't sure what to do or how to feel. Ajoran's thick fingers found Ridahne's palm and touched it lightly, as if to offer only the suggestion of a hand-hold. Ridahne's slim fingers coiled around his, and her other hand reached out to grab Darin's. Her grip was hard. Cold. Vicelike. Yet she didn't take any more steps forward--not yet--and Ajoran did not lead her further. Ridahne was quiet. And yet, as she stood there, eyes fixed to the white stone as if she thought she could vaporize it with only her gaze, Ajoran could feel an intensity rise up in Ridahne. It was a slow, soft thing at first, and then he could feel it like the heat radiating from a forge. And like fire, it was uncomfortable to be so close to, or it would have been if it had been anyone else standing with her. But these were her people, and they both knew by now the virulence of Ridahne's ire once it was stirred.
Like a cork bursting out of a bottle under too much pressure, Ridahne shot forward suddenly with a low growl in her throat and descended on the patch of unadorned dirt with all the viciousness of a demon from some dark underworld. She kicked at the dirt, sending curtains of red dust flying with each strike. She released a scream, an animal howl into the quickly-warming dawn and then spat, picking up rocks and hurling them away with startling force. And then came the curses. Some were rather universal, and some version of them existed in every corner and every tongue of Astra. Others seemed rather specifically Azurian, and referenced some cultural concept or another. Ridahne cursed in Azurian, in Orosi, in Eluri, in the speech of the humans, and what little siren curses she knew. She wished that Khaltira's face would decay first (a particularly nasty sentiment in Azurei), she called upon the animals of the wild to come and exhume what was left of her body to gnaw the bones. She cried out to the Keeper, beseeching them to see the truth of the evil soul in its care and deal with her accordingly. She vowed that her name would be forgotten, and her legacy would be dust. And most of all, she cursed the woman for ultimately being the reason Ridahne lost her friend and working partner, Takhun. In very rapid Azurian, she kept shouting, "YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME. YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!" Again and again until at last she drew in a breath to scream again, but the air caught in her lungs and came out instead as a gasping sob.
Ajoran had stood back, letting Ridahne do what she needed to do on her own. But when he heard that sudden change, he went to her and wrapped his arms around her firmly. She sagged into him, and he was practically holding her upright. She'd spoken her piece, and unsurprisingly, she felt no bittersweet gratitude towards the traitorous woman for causing the chain of events that led her to Darin. The Sota-Sol got that pass. Darin might never love the matriarch, but Ridahne knew her and knew her heart was just. Her actions could be forgiven for their eventual good outcome. But not Khaltira. No matter what good this path had brought her to, Khaltira's actions caused Ridahne to murder people she would rather have left alive. And that left a dark, bloody stain on her soul that no amount of good deeds would ever wash away, and that could not be forgiven.
Ridahne meant to stay up late and carouse with her peers, but her body had not forgotten the fact that she'd been traveling all day to get there. She fell asleep in a padded chair beside Ajoran, who eventually woke her so they could move to a proper bed. He always thought the beds were a bit too hard and distinctly remembered that Ridahne had once felt the same. But he knew the road must have changed her definition of 'hard', because she had no complaints now, and slept as though she'd been given a cloud to lie on. She did wake once in the middle of the night when a pair of taja came in from their shift. She jolted upright with a soft cry of, "Darin!" and managed to get her knife about halfway out of its sheath before she calmed down and realized they weren't bandits or worse. She wasn't used to sleeping away from Darin and it worried her a bit to be so far from her, but she reminded herself that the palace in Tasen was one of the safest strongholds in Astra, and the Red Hand's arm would have grown long indeed to try and reach her there.
She and Ajoran woke at sunrise, took a moment to groom themselves and make themselves look presentable, and then headed out to the mess hall for some breakfast. They found Darin already eating and joined her. Ajoran lacked the shoulder sash and silver collar that lay over his chest that he'd worn the day before, though the silk sash around his waist that secured his dark blue uri was still a milky ivory. Ridahne had on the same blood red half-shirt and gray, beaded uri as she had the night before. The pair of them seemed almost regal now that they'd both bathed, had fresh clothes, and rested. Ridahne still wore the harness that held her two blades behind her back, however, and it kept her looking as dangerous as ever.
"Hope it's not too spicy...I tried to work you up to the usual level," Ridahne chuckled between bites. She'd been nervous about seeing Khaltira the night before, but now she seemed calm, cool, and resolute. She knew what to do, though the wasn't sure still how things would happen when the moment came. But it needed doing. So it would be done.
She and Ajoran woke at sunrise, took a moment to groom themselves and make themselves look presentable, and then headed out to the mess hall for some breakfast. They found Darin already eating and joined her. Ajoran lacked the shoulder sash and silver collar that lay over his chest that he'd worn the day before, though the silk sash around his waist that secured his dark blue uri was still a milky ivory. Ridahne had on the same blood red half-shirt and gray, beaded uri as she had the night before. The pair of them seemed almost regal now that they'd both bathed, had fresh clothes, and rested. Ridahne still wore the harness that held her two blades behind her back, however, and it kept her looking as dangerous as ever.
"Hope it's not too spicy...I tried to work you up to the usual level," Ridahne chuckled between bites. She'd been nervous about seeing Khaltira the night before, but now she seemed calm, cool, and resolute. She knew what to do, though the wasn't sure still how things would happen when the moment came. But it needed doing. So it would be done.
It really did feel good to get all that off her chest, and Ridahne imagined it was the same for Darin, too. And so it was with some measure of peace that Ridahne was able to listen to Darin's continued playing. And for a moment she was able to forget all that had gone on that day, all the fears and anxieties and apologies and admissions and the anger, and for now she was able to focus on the fact that she was sitting on the tallest building in Tasen--in Azurei, probably--looking at the moon softly illuminating her beautiful homeland with her adopted sister and her future husband at her side. Thinking of the moment that way, she could have burst.
So Ridahne stood suddenly in the middle of Darin's song and dragged Ajoran up with her. "Come! I will show you how they dance in the human lands! Dance with me!"
Ajoran laughed. "But I don't know how!"
Ridahne put one cool hand on his cheek, and he shivered, melting into her touch. "Guess you'd best improvise, then..." Ridahne smiled wolfishly and threw her hands in the air as her feet worked to the rhythm of Darin's song. It was not a perfect rendition of human dance, and any seasoned veteran would have wondered at her unique take on it. But it was altogether different to Ajoran, who watched her for a moment as if gathering the beat in his soul before moving with her in a more Azurei style, though it worked in harmony with Ridahne's dance. He couldn't help but admire her and the way the extra fabric pinned at her shoulder swished around her as she spun, and the way her dark and now very silky post-bath curls bobbed and swayed. And how light her feet were! She was a tempest, a firestorm, a hurricane, and yet she was his to hold, if not to contain. How wonderful that this storm of a woman had chosen him. Of that, he would forever be in awe.
The song ended and the two of them laughed as they panted for air. "Thank you, Darin, that was wonderful," Ridahne said, practically glowing. "Go and enjoy your bath, it's well earned. We'll find you in the morning."
"Aye, I'll keep an eye on her for you," Ajoran promised.
They stayed up there for some time after Darin left, watching the moon rise higher into the sky as they spent more time catching up. But soon the chill of desert night set in, and the two left for the barracks. It was just as Ridahne remembered it. There was a large common room, and beyond it was a small, humble washing area with small clay basins for washing feet, hands, or faces that separated the common room from the sleeping quarters. There were many uniformed and un-uniformed people milling about the common room, most with some kind of drink in hand, lounging in long sofas, playing cards around tables, or cleaning and sharpening weapons of varying types. The room went horribly quiet as Ridahne entered. There was likely a mix of emotions in the room, but everyone was evidently still processing them, because no one moved as the former pariah marched in like she owned the place, grabbed a little tin cup, filled it with a clear juniper and citrus liquor from a glass decanter, and pounded the whole thing back in one swallow. She poured another, but this one she sipped slowly and savoringly. Ajoran stood behind her in support but ultimately let her handle this.
Ridahne shrugged at them nonchalantly. "What are you looking at?"
Some of them seemed to realize, as if for the first time, that they were staring and slowly went back to their games or conversations. A few others still stared at her, though their expressions ranged from bewilderment to obvious distaste. Someone finally spoke up. "Takhun's murderer." The man who said it held his own cup with white knuckles.
"If you knew what I knew, you'd have done it too."
"I wouldn't betray my partner. Never. Takhun was my friend, I knew him. You killed my friend, Torzinei."
She looked unblinkingly back at him. "And you think he wasn't mine? I loved Takhun. I trusted him with my life. But I wasn't going to let him take an innocent mother's life."
"He wouldn't--"
"He would have if I let him. He'd geared up to go without me to kill a woman who did nothing wrong, after we both saw that Khaltira lied to us. I saved lives that night. I regret nothing." That was both true and untrue, as Ridahne wouldn't have taken back her actions, but she regretted needing to do them in the first place, especially to Takhun. This was too much for the other eija, and he crossed the distance between them with one fist primed and ready to throw. Just before he could bring it up to strike at Ridahne, a pair of hands clamped around his wrist and held him back.
"Wouldn't recommend that, Venatten." Salei looked to Ridahne. "Good to see you again. Though you lied to me about your apprentice..."
Ridahne shrugged with a smirk. "It was necessary."
Salei smiled too. "That it was." She turned her attention back on Venatten. "If you knew what she'd sacrificed to keep your sorry hide safe, you wouldn't be so bitter. I watched her come nearly to death so that the Seed Bearer of Astra could live to plant your future. The Red Hand fell by her sword and her blood. Can you say as much, Venatten?" When he could not, the elf growled and stomped away. He might have challenged her, but Ajoran was with her, and he knew he couldn't take them both. Salei sighed, then addressed the room. "Anyone else got a problem? The Sols have vouched for her, and I will too. Come, tell me I'm wrong..." When no one answered her challenge, she relaxed a little. It wasn't that nobody in the room had a problem with Ridahne--several did. But evidently they all decided their beef wasn't worth fighting over, or at least not for the moment. Ridahne couldn't blame them for that, as she did kill one of their own. How could they not be upset with her?
Generally though, many accepted the version of events Ridahne presented to them, and trusted the judgment of the Sols and their current pardoning of the traitor, though several had many questions to ask before they were satisfied. Before long though, she and Ajoran were invited into a card game, which devolved into contests of arm wrestling, knife throwing, reflex, and other games. It felt good to be among her colleagues again, though it was different now. That was alright by her. She was different now, anyway. It also felt good to sink into a real bed at the end of the night, and to have Ajoran by her side made it all the better.
So Ridahne stood suddenly in the middle of Darin's song and dragged Ajoran up with her. "Come! I will show you how they dance in the human lands! Dance with me!"
Ajoran laughed. "But I don't know how!"
Ridahne put one cool hand on his cheek, and he shivered, melting into her touch. "Guess you'd best improvise, then..." Ridahne smiled wolfishly and threw her hands in the air as her feet worked to the rhythm of Darin's song. It was not a perfect rendition of human dance, and any seasoned veteran would have wondered at her unique take on it. But it was altogether different to Ajoran, who watched her for a moment as if gathering the beat in his soul before moving with her in a more Azurei style, though it worked in harmony with Ridahne's dance. He couldn't help but admire her and the way the extra fabric pinned at her shoulder swished around her as she spun, and the way her dark and now very silky post-bath curls bobbed and swayed. And how light her feet were! She was a tempest, a firestorm, a hurricane, and yet she was his to hold, if not to contain. How wonderful that this storm of a woman had chosen him. Of that, he would forever be in awe.
The song ended and the two of them laughed as they panted for air. "Thank you, Darin, that was wonderful," Ridahne said, practically glowing. "Go and enjoy your bath, it's well earned. We'll find you in the morning."
"Aye, I'll keep an eye on her for you," Ajoran promised.
They stayed up there for some time after Darin left, watching the moon rise higher into the sky as they spent more time catching up. But soon the chill of desert night set in, and the two left for the barracks. It was just as Ridahne remembered it. There was a large common room, and beyond it was a small, humble washing area with small clay basins for washing feet, hands, or faces that separated the common room from the sleeping quarters. There were many uniformed and un-uniformed people milling about the common room, most with some kind of drink in hand, lounging in long sofas, playing cards around tables, or cleaning and sharpening weapons of varying types. The room went horribly quiet as Ridahne entered. There was likely a mix of emotions in the room, but everyone was evidently still processing them, because no one moved as the former pariah marched in like she owned the place, grabbed a little tin cup, filled it with a clear juniper and citrus liquor from a glass decanter, and pounded the whole thing back in one swallow. She poured another, but this one she sipped slowly and savoringly. Ajoran stood behind her in support but ultimately let her handle this.
Ridahne shrugged at them nonchalantly. "What are you looking at?"
Some of them seemed to realize, as if for the first time, that they were staring and slowly went back to their games or conversations. A few others still stared at her, though their expressions ranged from bewilderment to obvious distaste. Someone finally spoke up. "Takhun's murderer." The man who said it held his own cup with white knuckles.
"If you knew what I knew, you'd have done it too."
"I wouldn't betray my partner. Never. Takhun was my friend, I knew him. You killed my friend, Torzinei."
She looked unblinkingly back at him. "And you think he wasn't mine? I loved Takhun. I trusted him with my life. But I wasn't going to let him take an innocent mother's life."
"He wouldn't--"
"He would have if I let him. He'd geared up to go without me to kill a woman who did nothing wrong, after we both saw that Khaltira lied to us. I saved lives that night. I regret nothing." That was both true and untrue, as Ridahne wouldn't have taken back her actions, but she regretted needing to do them in the first place, especially to Takhun. This was too much for the other eija, and he crossed the distance between them with one fist primed and ready to throw. Just before he could bring it up to strike at Ridahne, a pair of hands clamped around his wrist and held him back.
"Wouldn't recommend that, Venatten." Salei looked to Ridahne. "Good to see you again. Though you lied to me about your apprentice..."
Ridahne shrugged with a smirk. "It was necessary."
Salei smiled too. "That it was." She turned her attention back on Venatten. "If you knew what she'd sacrificed to keep your sorry hide safe, you wouldn't be so bitter. I watched her come nearly to death so that the Seed Bearer of Astra could live to plant your future. The Red Hand fell by her sword and her blood. Can you say as much, Venatten?" When he could not, the elf growled and stomped away. He might have challenged her, but Ajoran was with her, and he knew he couldn't take them both. Salei sighed, then addressed the room. "Anyone else got a problem? The Sols have vouched for her, and I will too. Come, tell me I'm wrong..." When no one answered her challenge, she relaxed a little. It wasn't that nobody in the room had a problem with Ridahne--several did. But evidently they all decided their beef wasn't worth fighting over, or at least not for the moment. Ridahne couldn't blame them for that, as she did kill one of their own. How could they not be upset with her?
Generally though, many accepted the version of events Ridahne presented to them, and trusted the judgment of the Sols and their current pardoning of the traitor, though several had many questions to ask before they were satisfied. Before long though, she and Ajoran were invited into a card game, which devolved into contests of arm wrestling, knife throwing, reflex, and other games. It felt good to be among her colleagues again, though it was different now. That was alright by her. She was different now, anyway. It also felt good to sink into a real bed at the end of the night, and to have Ajoran by her side made it all the better.
Hey mate, sorry I've been a bit absent. Been sort of a weird week. I'll be straight with you, I've got a lot on my plate at the moment and I'm not sure I can keep up with our RP.
Ridahne listened wordlessly until Darin finished, and then for a moment afterwards too. She knew the feeling of homesickness, though Ridahne had always held out the hope and eventually the knowledge she would see her beloved home again. Darin didn't exactly have that guarantee to look forward to, though secretly Ridahne was determined to find a way to bring her home one way or another, even if only for a moment.
"I'm sorry you're homesick. I know the feeling. I wish I knew what to tell you to make it better, but I'm not sure that I do. Except, I guess, to do what you're doing and bring pieces of home with you to bring out when you need them. And anyway, I like hearing you play."
"Yeah, I've never heard anything like it before, it's good," Ajoran added, his voice soft and unobtrusive. Ridahne loved that he knew when to step in, and when to step back. He had to know that skill in order to love a storm of a woman like her.
Ridahne sighed. "I also wish I could tell you why I'm so...I don't know...emotional? I mean I can tell you what happened but I don't feel like that explains why I feel like I do. Maybe because it's a lot of things. The Sota-Sol just asked to speak with me privately--just the two of us. We went to the gardens and the last time I was there I...I betrayed Takhun and I don't know that I was ready to face that. But she apologized--like really really apologized for what happened, all of it. And I thought I was ready for that, and had dealt with that but I guess I haven't, not all the way, not really. And I'm honored because I've never in my life seen a Sol so...candid. With anyone. She really was sincere, and she listened to the things I had to say, really listened. And honestly it was a good conversation, it was great. I feel like as much as I dreaded it, it needed to happen and should have happened. And I do feel better knowing my Sota-Sol does not hate me--that fear has been hanging over my head for a while. But I guess I'm mad? Yeah, alright, I am mad. Actually, I'm really angry and a little bitter but I shouldn't be, there's part of me, the logical part, that knows and understands how and why things happened as they did, and is even a little grateful that it ended up like this, because I'm here--you're here. But then another part feels like I did during the lonely months where I searched for you, Darin, and had no hope of ever finding you. Bitter, angry, resentful, guilty and yet wholly justified and resolute in my choices..." She had to catch her breath, she'd been speaking fast. It was a good thing Darin had learned Azurian through the Tree and not slow study, or she might not have been able to follow the native's speed.
Ridahne's face twisted into a tortured expression. "Coming home has been everything I had ever hoped for and ever wanted, and then some. More than I ever could have asked for. So why am I so angry? I shouldn't be, and I don't want to be, but...well..." she threw her hands in the air and let them slap down on her thighs like two birds that had been shot from the air. "There's not anything to do about it, either. Please don't worry yourself about it," she begged earnestly. "It's not like anything needs to be changed or solved, it's just...I have feelings I didn't realize I still had. And I need to deal with those somehow."
"I'm sorry you're homesick. I know the feeling. I wish I knew what to tell you to make it better, but I'm not sure that I do. Except, I guess, to do what you're doing and bring pieces of home with you to bring out when you need them. And anyway, I like hearing you play."
"Yeah, I've never heard anything like it before, it's good," Ajoran added, his voice soft and unobtrusive. Ridahne loved that he knew when to step in, and when to step back. He had to know that skill in order to love a storm of a woman like her.
Ridahne sighed. "I also wish I could tell you why I'm so...I don't know...emotional? I mean I can tell you what happened but I don't feel like that explains why I feel like I do. Maybe because it's a lot of things. The Sota-Sol just asked to speak with me privately--just the two of us. We went to the gardens and the last time I was there I...I betrayed Takhun and I don't know that I was ready to face that. But she apologized--like really really apologized for what happened, all of it. And I thought I was ready for that, and had dealt with that but I guess I haven't, not all the way, not really. And I'm honored because I've never in my life seen a Sol so...candid. With anyone. She really was sincere, and she listened to the things I had to say, really listened. And honestly it was a good conversation, it was great. I feel like as much as I dreaded it, it needed to happen and should have happened. And I do feel better knowing my Sota-Sol does not hate me--that fear has been hanging over my head for a while. But I guess I'm mad? Yeah, alright, I am mad. Actually, I'm really angry and a little bitter but I shouldn't be, there's part of me, the logical part, that knows and understands how and why things happened as they did, and is even a little grateful that it ended up like this, because I'm here--you're here. But then another part feels like I did during the lonely months where I searched for you, Darin, and had no hope of ever finding you. Bitter, angry, resentful, guilty and yet wholly justified and resolute in my choices..." She had to catch her breath, she'd been speaking fast. It was a good thing Darin had learned Azurian through the Tree and not slow study, or she might not have been able to follow the native's speed.
Ridahne's face twisted into a tortured expression. "Coming home has been everything I had ever hoped for and ever wanted, and then some. More than I ever could have asked for. So why am I so angry? I shouldn't be, and I don't want to be, but...well..." she threw her hands in the air and let them slap down on her thighs like two birds that had been shot from the air. "There's not anything to do about it, either. Please don't worry yourself about it," she begged earnestly. "It's not like anything needs to be changed or solved, it's just...I have feelings I didn't realize I still had. And I need to deal with those somehow."
Rohaan let his eyes drift closed as he inventoried his bumps, bruises, and scrapes. The escape had been easy enough, though his knuckles were bruised from punching out two men. It was his capture that really did the damage though. Rohaan always went down fighting, and not going quietly always came with its consequences. "I didn't know you spoke other languages," he said, his tone soft and tired. "Is English your first language? It's not mine," he dropped casually, though Alexa had never heard him speak anything other than English. He did have a faint remnant of an unidentified accent, though.
Alexa handed him something and he sort of blindly took it, only belatedly opening his eyes to see what it was. As soon as he identified the gun, he held it between his pinched fingers like it was a piece of rotting garbage, or a dangerous snake. "Ugh," he grunted, his distaste obvious. "Might have to find a good place to melt this down tomorrow. A thing this sinister doesn't deserve to exist in this world." For being a man of violence, he had surprisingly strong feelings towards guns in general, but especially specialized ones like this pistol. Rohaan had been shot once, and the evidence was an ugly, shiny scar that marred the plane of his left thigh. He was lucky it didn't hit anything more vital than some muscles, though on especially cold days, he occasionally had a bit of a stiff gait. He thought they were merciless weapons that gave undeserving people undeserved power. He might be living in an empty husk of a building, but he wouldn't put that in someone's hands for any money. Rohaan tossed it beside his shoes on the floor and melted back into the couch. At least Alexa had gotten what they'd come there for, though he was still convinced the whole thing was a setup anyway. If it was, they'd sell that tech to whoever was the biggest threat to the law and watch the fools who set them up burn. That was Rohaan's plan anyway.
It wasn't long before sleep took him. He never even got the chance to lay down, he just fell asleep where he sat semi-upright on the couch, head lolled back against the back cushions. His dreams were hazy and surreal, though not particularly memorable except that they were a bit disorienting. It was even more disorienting to be ripped from them back into the waking world by Alexa's call of his name. "Hnngh?" He sat up, though he swayed a little. There were evidently men searching her apartment. Some distant part of him had some knowledge of the protections Alexa put over the places she lived, and marveled at the fact they'd made it in. "Wait, what? Ugh, that sounds like a you problem," he said, though he was already rubbing his face and trying to bring himself to be awake enough to put on his boots. "Do you know who?" He was so, so tired and was now slightly less warm since he was no longer melded with the couch cushions and all he wanted was to go back to bed but he offered, "you want me to go check it out? Don't think they'd notice a bird in the window."
Alexa handed him something and he sort of blindly took it, only belatedly opening his eyes to see what it was. As soon as he identified the gun, he held it between his pinched fingers like it was a piece of rotting garbage, or a dangerous snake. "Ugh," he grunted, his distaste obvious. "Might have to find a good place to melt this down tomorrow. A thing this sinister doesn't deserve to exist in this world." For being a man of violence, he had surprisingly strong feelings towards guns in general, but especially specialized ones like this pistol. Rohaan had been shot once, and the evidence was an ugly, shiny scar that marred the plane of his left thigh. He was lucky it didn't hit anything more vital than some muscles, though on especially cold days, he occasionally had a bit of a stiff gait. He thought they were merciless weapons that gave undeserving people undeserved power. He might be living in an empty husk of a building, but he wouldn't put that in someone's hands for any money. Rohaan tossed it beside his shoes on the floor and melted back into the couch. At least Alexa had gotten what they'd come there for, though he was still convinced the whole thing was a setup anyway. If it was, they'd sell that tech to whoever was the biggest threat to the law and watch the fools who set them up burn. That was Rohaan's plan anyway.
It wasn't long before sleep took him. He never even got the chance to lay down, he just fell asleep where he sat semi-upright on the couch, head lolled back against the back cushions. His dreams were hazy and surreal, though not particularly memorable except that they were a bit disorienting. It was even more disorienting to be ripped from them back into the waking world by Alexa's call of his name. "Hnngh?" He sat up, though he swayed a little. There were evidently men searching her apartment. Some distant part of him had some knowledge of the protections Alexa put over the places she lived, and marveled at the fact they'd made it in. "Wait, what? Ugh, that sounds like a you problem," he said, though he was already rubbing his face and trying to bring himself to be awake enough to put on his boots. "Do you know who?" He was so, so tired and was now slightly less warm since he was no longer melded with the couch cushions and all he wanted was to go back to bed but he offered, "you want me to go check it out? Don't think they'd notice a bird in the window."
((I like that idea! Rohaan is not the sort to have had much of a home base so it will be fun for him to have one. And anyway, we can still travel around as we please, too. I like the idea of him being the enforcer, but also part of the weird underbelly ecosystem in the neighborhood.))
"Oh, what, my place ain't good enough for you?" Rohaan teased, elbowing her in the arm a bit as he chuckled. "You're too fancy for the likes of me. You and your nice grand hotels. Well, I'm just a humble street rat, but this place is ah...well...alright so it's not grand. Used to be, maybe, but not anymore. I will say, I do keep it mostly clean. And you don't even have to worry about the bugs, I ate most of them." He said this with a beaming grin, though he did not openly clarify that this was a joke. It was, but it entertained him to keep people guessing about what exactly his limits were. And it wasn't like it was a completely crazy thing to say, or at least not for him. Rohaan had eaten a multitude of things in animal forms that he would never dare touch in his own shape. Usually out of desperation when he was younger. Before Berlin found him. And one of the persistent rumors that circulated about him was that he had a penchant for eating people. Rohaan never confirmed nor denied the claims. Let them guess.
Rohaan let her keep his leather jacket on as they shimmied down the fire escape ladders and blended into the streets like they had never taken flight as dragon and rider, and like they had been walking mundanely for miles. The area wasn't exactly upscale, and it was the sort of neighborhood a girl wouldn't go into after dark. Or even some men. But if anyone had evil intentions that night, one look at Rohaan was all the warning they needed to steer clear. Even when he was not shifting, or when it was too dark to see his inhuman eyes, he just had the look of a man who knew how to handle himself. They were unbothered as they made their way to a well-lit pizza shop with a few quiet patrons seated at overly shellacked wooden tables and a teenage boy behind the counter. As they entered, he took an unconscious step back.
"Jazvir! He's back!" The lad called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Rohaan.
"Oh is he!" Came an indignant woman's voice. A short Indian woman with a ponytail and black glasses stomped out from the back, pointing an accusatory finger at Rohaan. "You!"
"Jaz...good to see you..." He flashed one of his trademark grins.
"Last time you were here, you wrecked my place! And you didn't pay a dime for the damages!" She put that finger right under his nose, practically leaning on her tiptoes to try and gain a little more height.
"Damages...? Oh c'mon, it wasn't--"
"The broken window."
"Erm...well yeah, but--"
"The aluminum chair you flattened--"
"That wasn't--"
"Don't tell me you forgot about the hole you burnt into the drywall!"
Rohaan grimaced. "I didn't...alright so I wrecked the place. But I'll make it up to you, I've just been busy."
"Uhuh. I'll bet you will. You don't even have money in your pocket, do you?"
"Not exactly. Sort of just came out of a...tight situation, Jazvir. You've got some not-quite-mediocre Suits, here in this town. And they did a number on me, let me tell you."
Jazvir studied him, leaning back on one heel and folding her arms across her chest. "Well you do look a mess. And who's this?" The fiery woman gestured to Alexa, and though her face was screwed up in a scowl, her eyes were warm.
"A colleague," Rohaan said, careful not to say too much out loud in front of the other patrons. There was little need, as there was a rule in Jazvir's place: what happened there, stayed there.
Jazvir rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Rio Ja'aisen, you are the worst! Go on, sit. I'll get your usual, you vagrant." To Alexa, she said, "Keep this one in line, would you, hon?" With that, she disappeared into the kitchen. Notably, she used the last and shortest of Rohaan's three given names, though she seemed to know exactly who and what he was.
Rohaan smiled apologetically at Alexa as he plunked down heavily in an aluminum chair. "Jaz is great. I'm gonna get her something real nice when I get a minute...Last time I was here, I got cornered by some head hunter who did not want to wait for me to finish my pizza. Asshole. You know how that goes." He shrugged nonchalantly, like it was the headhunter's fault that the place had been roughed up, not his.
Jazvir brought out two boxed pizzas and plunked them down on the table unceremoniously. "There. Thanks for not setting the place on fire this time."
"I try."
"You owe me, Rio. Don't forget it."
"I won't, Jazvir. I never do." Rohaan gathered the boxes and he and Alexa headed out. Just the smell of the food reminded him how horribly hungry he really was, and also how upset his stomach was from whatever they'd dosed him with to keep him down during transport. And thirsty. He really needed some water, and maybe something stiffer later.
The tenement where Rohaan had set up his current home wasn't far from the restaurant. It was definitely run down, and though it had once been something nice, it was now in desperate need of new paint, new flooring, and a few new panels of drywall. The front door was chained shut, but one of the windows had been long since smashed in, and the shifter casually climbed through it to get inside. The lower floor was strewn with a bunch of trash and a few filthy mattresses, but Rohaan's spot was a few floors up. He'd cleared out a large room and dragged up two couches that were tattered but not diseased looking, and in one corner of the room was a mattress on the floor. It was most definitely clean, though it lacked a set of properly fitting sheets. A large backpack sat next to it, and beside that was a plastic bin that seemed to serve as his small pantry. The lights did not work, so he turned on a portable lantern that he'd hung from the ceiling, set the pizza boxes on the chipped coffee table, and sank into the couch.
Rohaan was ravenously hungry, and didn't even speak for a while as he chewed with the fervor and intensity of a half-starved animal, though several slices in he slowed down to a more human pace. With that need met, his mind and his body reminded him of the other things he'd neglected, like the bruises and swollen ribs he'd gotten from his capture, or the dragging, hollow feeling the sedation drugs had left him with. He leaned back until his head rested on the back of the couch and sighed, though it came out as almost a groan. "You can take the bed if you want, might be warmer. Don't let this dump fool you, the blankets are clean, I promise." Rohaan drifted from place to place often, so he never invested much money or energy into having many things, though there were a few items he was uncompromisingly lavish about. His clothing was one such item. He had few sets, but what he had was of good quality, especially his boots. Blankets and a decent pillow were another.
"Oh, what, my place ain't good enough for you?" Rohaan teased, elbowing her in the arm a bit as he chuckled. "You're too fancy for the likes of me. You and your nice grand hotels. Well, I'm just a humble street rat, but this place is ah...well...alright so it's not grand. Used to be, maybe, but not anymore. I will say, I do keep it mostly clean. And you don't even have to worry about the bugs, I ate most of them." He said this with a beaming grin, though he did not openly clarify that this was a joke. It was, but it entertained him to keep people guessing about what exactly his limits were. And it wasn't like it was a completely crazy thing to say, or at least not for him. Rohaan had eaten a multitude of things in animal forms that he would never dare touch in his own shape. Usually out of desperation when he was younger. Before Berlin found him. And one of the persistent rumors that circulated about him was that he had a penchant for eating people. Rohaan never confirmed nor denied the claims. Let them guess.
Rohaan let her keep his leather jacket on as they shimmied down the fire escape ladders and blended into the streets like they had never taken flight as dragon and rider, and like they had been walking mundanely for miles. The area wasn't exactly upscale, and it was the sort of neighborhood a girl wouldn't go into after dark. Or even some men. But if anyone had evil intentions that night, one look at Rohaan was all the warning they needed to steer clear. Even when he was not shifting, or when it was too dark to see his inhuman eyes, he just had the look of a man who knew how to handle himself. They were unbothered as they made their way to a well-lit pizza shop with a few quiet patrons seated at overly shellacked wooden tables and a teenage boy behind the counter. As they entered, he took an unconscious step back.
"Jazvir! He's back!" The lad called over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Rohaan.
"Oh is he!" Came an indignant woman's voice. A short Indian woman with a ponytail and black glasses stomped out from the back, pointing an accusatory finger at Rohaan. "You!"
"Jaz...good to see you..." He flashed one of his trademark grins.
"Last time you were here, you wrecked my place! And you didn't pay a dime for the damages!" She put that finger right under his nose, practically leaning on her tiptoes to try and gain a little more height.
"Damages...? Oh c'mon, it wasn't--"
"The broken window."
"Erm...well yeah, but--"
"The aluminum chair you flattened--"
"That wasn't--"
"Don't tell me you forgot about the hole you burnt into the drywall!"
Rohaan grimaced. "I didn't...alright so I wrecked the place. But I'll make it up to you, I've just been busy."
"Uhuh. I'll bet you will. You don't even have money in your pocket, do you?"
"Not exactly. Sort of just came out of a...tight situation, Jazvir. You've got some not-quite-mediocre Suits, here in this town. And they did a number on me, let me tell you."
Jazvir studied him, leaning back on one heel and folding her arms across her chest. "Well you do look a mess. And who's this?" The fiery woman gestured to Alexa, and though her face was screwed up in a scowl, her eyes were warm.
"A colleague," Rohaan said, careful not to say too much out loud in front of the other patrons. There was little need, as there was a rule in Jazvir's place: what happened there, stayed there.
Jazvir rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Rio Ja'aisen, you are the worst! Go on, sit. I'll get your usual, you vagrant." To Alexa, she said, "Keep this one in line, would you, hon?" With that, she disappeared into the kitchen. Notably, she used the last and shortest of Rohaan's three given names, though she seemed to know exactly who and what he was.
Rohaan smiled apologetically at Alexa as he plunked down heavily in an aluminum chair. "Jaz is great. I'm gonna get her something real nice when I get a minute...Last time I was here, I got cornered by some head hunter who did not want to wait for me to finish my pizza. Asshole. You know how that goes." He shrugged nonchalantly, like it was the headhunter's fault that the place had been roughed up, not his.
Jazvir brought out two boxed pizzas and plunked them down on the table unceremoniously. "There. Thanks for not setting the place on fire this time."
"I try."
"You owe me, Rio. Don't forget it."
"I won't, Jazvir. I never do." Rohaan gathered the boxes and he and Alexa headed out. Just the smell of the food reminded him how horribly hungry he really was, and also how upset his stomach was from whatever they'd dosed him with to keep him down during transport. And thirsty. He really needed some water, and maybe something stiffer later.
The tenement where Rohaan had set up his current home wasn't far from the restaurant. It was definitely run down, and though it had once been something nice, it was now in desperate need of new paint, new flooring, and a few new panels of drywall. The front door was chained shut, but one of the windows had been long since smashed in, and the shifter casually climbed through it to get inside. The lower floor was strewn with a bunch of trash and a few filthy mattresses, but Rohaan's spot was a few floors up. He'd cleared out a large room and dragged up two couches that were tattered but not diseased looking, and in one corner of the room was a mattress on the floor. It was most definitely clean, though it lacked a set of properly fitting sheets. A large backpack sat next to it, and beside that was a plastic bin that seemed to serve as his small pantry. The lights did not work, so he turned on a portable lantern that he'd hung from the ceiling, set the pizza boxes on the chipped coffee table, and sank into the couch.
Rohaan was ravenously hungry, and didn't even speak for a while as he chewed with the fervor and intensity of a half-starved animal, though several slices in he slowed down to a more human pace. With that need met, his mind and his body reminded him of the other things he'd neglected, like the bruises and swollen ribs he'd gotten from his capture, or the dragging, hollow feeling the sedation drugs had left him with. He leaned back until his head rested on the back of the couch and sighed, though it came out as almost a groan. "You can take the bed if you want, might be warmer. Don't let this dump fool you, the blankets are clean, I promise." Rohaan drifted from place to place often, so he never invested much money or energy into having many things, though there were a few items he was uncompromisingly lavish about. His clothing was one such item. He had few sets, but what he had was of good quality, especially his boots. Blankets and a decent pillow were another.
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