makinglies | Respite

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faerun

Respite

The lake is dark and calm with a small breeze by the time they arrive at its shores. The stars above reflect perfectly in the still waters before them, and a small copse of trees lines one side, starting on their side of the river and jumping along the other side.

Chris takes a moment to re-prepare the spell he hadn't been able to cast in five years and gestures vaguely to the area around them as a suggestion for what the others can do. Gathering in the forest, sitting on a nearby over-turned log, it didn't matter to him. What he needed was an hour without interruption.

He settles down on the ground and presses his hands together as he closes his eyes to focus on the image in his mind. Within minutes, the white, shimmering outline of a large building forms in thin air. The gentle glow of its light barely spreads from the growing structure.

As promised, it takes the full hour before the slowly filling-in form is complete and finishes with a jaunty, echoing click.

Chris takes a breath, now sitting in front of the stoop that looks annoyingly like the one he'd passed earlier in the night, and gets back onto stiff legs as the glow fades away, leaving smooth, but otherwise unremarkable, white stone behind.

"Here we are. Home for the next however long we need. I'll start working on food and water next." Once they're inside, anyway, which is why he takes back his things from where he'd left them and leads them into the temple, marked only with the carving of ravens on the black wood of the double doors.

Inside is something just shy of opulence. The same polished white stone makes the walls, though black and gold veins course through the marble. The floor is the inverse, a black stone with white, shimmering speckles like a night sky if looked at for long enough. A single window faced East high up on the wall. The temple was alight with sconces at regular intervals along the walls, illuminating an open area that held all the offerings of comfort Chris could think of.

A large hot-springs-like bath, complete with a miniature waterfall, took up the left side of the room and ran into a smaller, similar bath at dog-height. Next to it, covered by a retractable screen, was a shower. Along the back wall, a raven's head emblazoned the white wall in black and watched out over a set of tables, chairs, and a couple of sofas. The majority of the center was clear for walking, but the right edge and right side of the room held a deeply inset pit of pillows, cushions, and blankets in various soft (black and purple) fabrics.

Finally, in the middle of the right-hand wall, there were two closed doors that, when inspected, revealed one room with a large, soft chair and rug, while the other room was made of nothing but stone with jars, pitchers, and plates on shelves along two walls and a cork wall perfect for catching daggers on the other side.

"I hope it works for everyone. I didn't...I didn't make separate bedrooms this time. I didn't figure we would need them tonight."

♥

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Amelia starts tearing up, Chris pushes back, and Jon... balks. He knows he shouldn't. He knows this is sense, but they're finally free to go where they want, do what they want, and he's being told he can't go to this other plane within Faerun, somewhere Chris has talked to him about. Beyond the burning curiosity to see it for himself, there's a sense of obligation.

"I'm not even planning to tap anything," Jon points out. "And Wolfe can fight without magic when he needs to." Maybe he shouldn't speak for the mage, but Jon assumes he'll be on side for pushing this. Although, his girlfriend working herself up over it might sway him. Or Chris' reasonable argument. Unfortunately for everyone, Jonathan Sims is a stubborn man. "I've been practicing with a dagger for several months now. I'm not going to claim to be an expert, but again, I can put myself somewhere out of the fray to watch and call out if there are any oddity. The Shadowfell's been damaged somehow, yes? If there's an issue with the fabric of reality there, I might be able to see it where the rest of you can't."

He doesn't know that for sure, but trying to find a way to make himself desirable as an observer might help persuade Chris, is not Amelia. "There also isn't an 'us' without the two of you, either, and if something happens, I think both of us would rather be present to at least attempt to do something."

It could be worse than simply not being able to cast after awhile as Amelia puts it, and it hits Wolfe then that he doesn't think he's ever told Amelia about Tranquility at all. That... That can wait until after the Shadowfel, surely. He will tell her, but that would be even more reason for them to shut him out and leave him behind. They have reason to, and their arguments make sense, but these gods as his witness he absolutely refuses to be the last man standing again.

There's a compromise to be made here.

"I won't cast a thing, not unless it's to save our lives, though I expect as a cleric who has a divine directive against the undead that you're more than equipped to handle whatever is being asked of us. And Jon is correct, I can hold my own even without magic."

He crosses to Amelia and puts his arms around her, knowing that what he's keeping back will just make her cry more, but the realization that he'd rather be made Tranquil then spend one more second worrying that he's going to lose them for good is a staggering one. He just regrets that he's the reason for her tears yet again.

"Let us all stay together and support you, even if we're not in the thick of it ourselves. And the first thing we'll do when we return is work on contacting Mystra." That seems reasonable, doesn't it?

Edited (skill check :x) 2025-10-18 23:42 (UTC)

It's unfair how they make good arguments in return. The truth that they're right about being able to contribute only makes the desire to protect them that much stronger and herself more brittle. When Wolfe's arms close around her, all she can do is sob and shake her head in disbelief.

How did they do this to her? Why is she going to say yes? This is a terrible idea even if her heart aches at the thought of them being so far away.
No no no no no no what happens when shit goes wrong?

She doesn't try to say anything, instead burying her face into her mages arms to keep everyone from seeing the absolute mess she's become after getting through one hell just to find another. All without a single bite of food to her name.

They both push back as he should have expected, and Chris sighs, bone-deep and defeated. It was a losing argument from the start for different reasons. Denying Jon a chance to see something new, see something that was in his statements, was nearly a cruelty where his Archivist was involved...and denying Wolfe his closeness, especially after being apart for so long was a cruelty to him.

Chris places the rest of his bread in front of Amelia and scrapes his hand over his face. "Fine. Fine, you can both come too. We'll go tomorrow at the earliest; I still insist on a rest day." It was clearly needed.

He stands again and strides over to the door to retrieve Amelia's dagger from the door and bring it back to her. He had that whole conversation with Topher while in his smallclothes...wonderful. That will come back to him at some point, he's sure.

He deposits the knife on the table with the bread. "We're also not going anywhere until everyone's had some food, since none of you have eaten for almost twenty-four hours. Even you, Jon, we don't know how much your body here will still need regular food."

He fixes his Archivist with a look that starts as 'don't challenge me on this' and then turns into one of narrowed eyes and pursed lips. "Also...you told me you were only having lessons from Amelia...why didn't you tell me about Astarion?"

Jon is ready to acquiesce on food after the victory of whether or not they get to come to the Shadowfell. Chris would have had to tie him up to keep him from sneaking along. Or barging. The Archivist hadn't planned on being particularly clandestine about it. He settles in one of the chairs farther away from Amelia, if only to give her room to pull herself together with Wolfe's assistance. He knows they're all strung out after... everything. They've all cried at this point, will cry more, no doubt, but there is a mission ahead, and the Archivist is all too familiar with compartmentalizing grief.

In the back of his mind, he can hear Elias, speaking in his own voice, 'Don’t worry, Jon. You'll get used to it...' A blessing and a curse, all in one, the ability to just... survive. Whether he truly wants to or not. But with his feet planted more firmly in Faerun, he does want to survive, to live in a way none of them have been able to for years.

And that starts with this.

"Er..." Or it starts with a hard look from his boyfriend. Jon quickly focuses on some nuts and cheese as he grabs for those and fills his mouth to give him time to think of an 'acceptable' answer. In spite of the look and texture, they're oddly bland, which gives him momentary pause. But, no. Chris had said it would be like this. It's not gone off and it's not poisoned, just... magically the equivalent of cauliflower. "Never came up, I suppose." The Archivist goes back to eating. Look at him being so very good and doing as he's told!

Wolfe snorts, recognizing a very bad avoidance tactic when he sees one and reaching around Amelia for the food so she doesn't have to leave his arms yet. He's suddenly ravenous now that the question of the Shadowfell is settled, and starts with bread and cheese. It's... A little disappointing, honestly, but he supposes magically conjured food with nourishment prioritized over taste would be. Still, useful spell to know. Could he learn it? Not yet more than likely, but he can revisit that list of things he does want to learn.

"I'd feel a bit better if you eat something, my heart," he murmurs to her, gathering some of the cheese for her bread and generally keeping out of the argument between Chris and Jon. For now.

The others are welcome to what privacy Amelia's crying can offer. The rogue certainly isn't paying any attention to them when she's struggling to get her sobbing under control. She can't even find words for Wolfe when he asks her without asking to eat something. All she can do at this point is lift her head enough to nod and force herself to eat some of the bread in front of her. Whatever it or anything else on the table tastes like, it all goes down with the same disinterest and determination to just do what she has to.

Try. She just has to try for them. It's all she's good for anyway.

She just needs enough strength to get through this and to the next day. Just one round of culling in the Shadowfell and then they can save, truly save, Wolfe and Jon from losing their abilities for good.

Chris squints at his 'well-behaved' boyfriend. "Not telling me is making me more suspicious that something happened that you're keeping from me." He says it plain, an invitation to take the worst-case scenarios out of his mind...but at the end of the day, what could he do about it? Everything that had happened to them was past...and none of it should happen again.

The thought shouldn't make him anxious, like he'd gotten used to the threat of sexual assault and losing his senses and control. He hadn't liked it, of course, but...maybe, in a way, he'd gotten used to knowing what to expect, at least.

That thought ruins what little appetite he had, and he resolves to eat more later. The bread would have to do for now. To Amelia, at least, he spares a touch to her shoulder and then one to Wolfe's.

"I suppose now's a good time to mention I did Commune with the Raven Queen last night and she said we're not just fragments of our originals' souls, at least. Proof in the fact she was able to tie your souls here. She also said there was a way to work you all into the weave, but it's a yes or no line of questions, so I'm still not sure exactly how. I'll ask again later today."

Jon shrugs at Chris' suspicion at first. Can't talk. Mouth is full of... texture. Texture and a lack of flavor. But he does sense the small spike of fear from the cleric and knows he should be less cagey. It takes some effort to actually swallow everything down, and he fetches some of the bitter tea to make it easier. At least that has taste, and he's always preferred it a bit less sweet.

"Honestly, I was, uh... I was going to try to surprise you with it, that's all. Get to Faerun, impress you with some sort of knife trick so you wouldn't need to worry about me dying... immediately, anyway." He'd gone to Amelia for the same lessons, of course, but he'd known Chris likely wouldn't have approved of a vampire from his own world, even if he seems to have had more of his personhood intact than the other vampires Chris has met in his adventures. "I paid him for the lessons, though. That's really all. He wasn't terrible or anything, and he didn't try to drink my blood."

As for the rest of it... "Iliniver... does it have a temple to Mystra? We could ask a cleric there for help, couldn't we?" Instead of making the Raven Queen their 'middle man.'

"Quite the gift considering you'd been so resistant to learning to defend yourself before," Wolfe says between bites, genuinely finding it a sweet and practical gesture. Its hard to concentrate on that with Amelia still sniffling around her meal in his lap, though. He gently runs his fingers through her hair as they talk.

"We're not pieces... That's good," or at least it isn't bad. He wouldn't want the version of himself that still exists in Thedas to go the rest of his life with something missing. He may have only discovered that feeling in earnest as it was removed, but looking back it wasn't a pleasant thing to subconsciously be searching for a missing piece of yourself.

"Chris, do you think asking Mystra directly is the way to go? You know your Gods' alliances and attitudes better than we do, of course, but I also don't want to request too much of her when we already know we'll likely owe Mystra something as well," a price he's more than willing to pay, so long as it doesn't separate him from his family in any permanent way, physically or emotionally.

She's in the way. She has nothing to add here. She should go throw knives or wash clothes or something that isn't distracting and draining them all with her presence.

The unkind thoughts sit in the front of her mind and refuse to leave. Chris already knew about the dagger lessons from Jon. They all know they have to go to Mystra and ask for something she may very well deny them. They're not fragments but are they copies? of those whose memories they have and now have their own soul threads to prove it. What is she adding here that's worthwhile when all the commentary is happening without her? What does she matter?

Patience, still used to Amelia's morose moods, sits down at the rogue's side and puts her face in the woman's lap and whines. A distraction and a call for attention. A reason to get moving by subtly asking to go outside for a walk. She and Cookie can only pace and splash about in their pool for so long before they get bored.

"We'll pay what we have to." Her voice is soft and rough from the abuse her throat has taken since getting to the temple. She looks down at Patience and then around the table, ending with Wolfe. "I should take them outside for a bit. They haven't had the chance to stretch their legs yet today and they need it." And she needs to do something other than sit here and stew in dark thoughts that require more food and water than she's physically capable of putting in right now.

Jon’s answer sees him a little more sheepish for his reaction.

“Ah…that’s sweet; I’m sure you’ll be quite impressive. I’m glad he was able to help, honing those skills will be useful still.” For a number of reasons, but the burst of energy action and direction gave him is waning knowing it won’t matter until tomorrow.

Instead, there’s questions about Mystra and for all Chris has felt since arriving here that he needs to lead their way with his local knowledge, in this…he knows very little. Even what general knowledge of the gods doesn’t come in handy here. It puts a weight in his stomach.

“Honestly? I’m not sure, I don’t know how Mystra meets petitioners. I believe there’s a temple to her, as well as to Azuth, her emissary and partner. Someone in town will know more,” he nods to Jon, “clerics and scholars.”

But Amelia stands to remove herself from the conversation and something sour twists in him. Didn’t she care about this? What they would need to do involved her as much as the rest of them, but her silence feels like volumes and his ability to be charitable is as turbulent as his patience.

He should have more grace for her, if he can find any. If he can find any of his emotions for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Yeah, sure. Take Thunder with you, she needs to hunt.”

He whistles to the raven who looks up from her preening with a craggy response.

“We probably all could use the fresh air sometime this morning, I want to recast the temple sooner over later.”

Edited 2025-10-19 04:01 (UTC)

Once more, there’s Amelia’s fears and thoughts pinging in the back of Jon’s mind, and for all kind words from both Wolfe and Chris, he can’t help his attention turning back to the rogue. Wolfe can be kind and supportive lover, Chris can be the friend she needs… mostly. So, what can he be to her? Someone who doesn’t mince words? An ally for now, but friendship is still a ways off, even if they’re both set on protecting each other.

“Let’s all head out so you can change what you’d like,” Jon suggests. “We have the day to discuss our next moves. And we may need to forestall plans beyond getting to the city and finding an appropriate cleric or scholar to start. I’d like to have a word with you in private, as well, Amelia. If that’s all right?” Hopefully without more crying, but he might need to weather those. At least with their relationship as it is, she might be more inclined to hide her tears.

While his attention is mainly on Amelia, he does glance briefly at Wolfe to ensure he has permission to engage with her one-on-one.

Wolfe recognizes that move from Patience. Cookie is much more of a normal carefree animal but Patience, with her joint mabari and spirit dog pedigree, is much more in tune not just with her people's moods but what to do about them. Wolfe had never seen her decide to take Amelia for a walk to clear her head before, but she'd done it to him enough times. Something twists inside in knowing it was something she found necessary while he was gone, but there's comfort there too. Amelia had help and support.

Chris on the other hand...

He has Jon, but he also has his pride and his own idiosyncrasies that Wolfe is sure Jon hadn't challenged. Their Archivist can see a lot but he isn't a mind reader in the literal sense. He can't always tell when their mutual boyfriend is laser focused on getting in his own way because he's overwhelmed but keeps a white-knuckled grip on a situation regardless. Or maybe he can and just deals with it differently, maybe even doesn't think it's a problem. But even with that nothing exchanged between them, Wolfe can tell Chris will be digging his nails in his palms before long.

So when Jon looks at him for confirmation that what he's doing is alright, Wolfe just nods, standing up from the table as well. "I think a day to regroup is the best idea anyone has had all morning. Don't stray too far, but if you find any game maybe see if you can take it down? Conjured food is well and good but a stew would be more fortifying before facing a mess of zombies tomorrow."

Amelia always does better with a task, and with how Jon isn't exactly practiced at sneaking about in the woods, Wolfe expects that will take them some time as well as distracting Amelia enough to find her center again. Maybe.

He crosses to her and gives a kiss, gently wiping the traces of tears from her face. "I love you. All of you, just as you are. Keep that in mind while you're stealing my dogs for a walk." With that wry comment and a cheeky smile, he let's them head out first, all the animals but Poppet in tow, before turning to Chris again.

"So. A kitchen this time? And a stocked closet?" Clearly not what he's going to press on, but its a place to start.

Chris' sudden answer is... expected, somewhat. She's fucked up. Of course she's fucked up. When doesn't she fuck up with him in moments where they both need to keep their heads?

Wrong wrong wrong wrong but what this time? What does she need to grovel for forgiveness about? What does she need to do better?

She manages a soft 'I love you' for Wolfe before pulling away and getting on her shoes and a handful of her knives, motioning for Jon to do the same. As soon as they're both ready, she doesn't hesitate to step out the door and into the chill morning air. The dogs rush out ahead of her, bounding and barking with excitement for the space. They don't go far before returning to her side, though it's obvious from how they keep panting and running circles around the pair of humans that they really want to be set loose.

"Now that we're away from the others, what is it you wanted to say?" She spares Jon a glance as she wipes at her face and encourages Little Thunder to take wing and begin looking down on them from above for possible game to hunt.

Jon volunteers to go out with Amelia, and he tries to hide his surprise. Assumedly, they're at least passingly civil with each other if she's been giving him lessons...and they would clearly protect each other...so he just nods and sets to dismissing the food and water conjured and making sure everyone's things were gathered into one, central location. It would be easier to cast around the pile that way.

What he tries not to think about is how, with Wolfe staying with him, it was going to be harder to sneak off and sink into the lake to try and fix his head. He offers a small smile to his mage and nods.

"I'll make it more elaborate this time. Smaller baths, I think, more functional and less luxurious...maybe a second storey with a reading area so some of you can start reading up on the local flora and fauna and magic. Do the girls need anything more? I intend to put more places for Poppet and Little Thunder to perch and nest as needed." Which...

Chris calls for the little moth creature to come perch on his shoulder and then turns his full attention on Wolfe with an assessing look. "And if everyone's going to the shadowfell, what is the plan with the animals? If they happen to accidentally brush a Darkland, they'll instantly vaporize."

"A fireplace, if you can, even if the flames are illusory. They liked to lay in front of it at ho-. At the Rest and the Terrace." He quickly corrects himself. Duplicity is not home, the same way Kirkwall wasn't home. Except it, just in the case of Duplicity, he doesn't want it to be.

"As for the animals, they can mind themselves if the temple will still be here while we're gone. If anyone gets in thats not supposed to, I don't think they'll be prepared for the onslaught. If not, the girls and Thunder can manage the woods for a day or two, I'm sure. Poppet I don't know. Perhaps she could stay with Jon? Does she know well enough to stay on his shoulder at all times?" Honestly he's not worried about Patience in the Shadowfell either but Cookie is want to roam sometimes and the other animals would need Patience here in the Material if they didn't have their people.

During all of this planning, Wolfe sets about helping Chris prepare their things and eventually step outside so the spell can dissolve and be replaced. He regards Chris for a moment, folding his arms and wondering if they shouldn't talk now, before he spends an hour chanting and needing to concentrate. By then, Chris will have focused on something else for long enough that he'll have buried everything he's feeling all over again.

"Come for a walk before you cast it again," he says, grabbing his staff and putting it on his back. "Just around the edge of the lake and back. Please?"

Chris nods and thinks to reach for his book where he'd started to write down the various things he needed to keep in mind...only to remember he'd given his book to Jon. He'd need to get one for them both when they eventually had money, then.

He's trying to keep it all in mind as they step outside and he lets the spell fall, leaving their things in a neat pile where the temple had been, but before he can turn his focus, Wolfe is grabbing for it. Chris pauses, looks from the pile of packs to Wolfe, and hesitates. "I..." What was the harm? Other than the chance he forgets something to include, but his memory was pretty good. No one was around here for miles, it wasn't likely their things would wander off, and creatures probably wouldn't bother without food to entice them.

Every excuse he can think of falls away and leaves him realizing he is coming up with excuses...just to not go on a walk with his partner. Chris goes to the pile to pick out his scythe and nods to Wolfe.

"Lead on, then. The walk will do us both good, I think. I already missed my window to pray for my spells for the day." He'd have to pray piecemeal as needed through the day and try again tomorrow.

"I think she'll understand, given the circumstances," Wolfe says with a grin, pleased Chris isn't going to fight him on this. He didn't miss the momentary hesitation before that decision, either.

They walk a short way down to the shore and Wolfe lets them get past a line of cattails, indulging himself in the company and the sheer normalcy of the moment, before he says anything again.

"I missed you." It comes out softer than he'd intended, a bit thicker in his throat. He'd wanted to keep the tone light and not sound like he's accusing Chris of ignoring him or of anything else. He just wants to talk like they always have. Lean on each other without fearing being a burden, and the first part of that has always been his sharing. But he finds as he tells Chris what should be the most obvious thing in the world - that he missed his love while they were parted - he also still misses him. Chris has been laser focused on next steps and providing that even the short stolen moments last night are overshadowed. Much of it is necessary for practicality's sake, Chris being the one from this world natively and thus the one with the most knowledge, and the ever-present knowledge that they're copies, but there has to be room for the joy of being reunited. Doesn't there?

Quietly, Wolfe reaches for Chris' hand, trying to focus on him and what he might be thinking than the ache of distance. Distance he can clear, if only Chris will allow. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."

Wolfe says 'I missed you' like it's a secret he's been keeping, like his existence doesn't bleed longing and love, and for a moment, he feels like he did back during the carnival when he was facing down his mage's confession and filled with such doubt for it. It's not doubt for his feelings, what he feels for Wolfe hasn't changed an inch...but a doubt in himself. That he can be who Wolfe needs him to be so quickly...and if he could voice any of that, maybe it would help. Gods, he must seem like...a ghost, at best.

Chris takes his hand when it's offered and gives it a squeeze, but his head whips around at the apology, expression aghast. "Why in the hells are you apologizing for being kidnapped, assaulted in a number of ways, and slowly drained of your life like it was an inconvenience to us for it happening?"

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deception: dirty 20

well she didn't roll a 1 but lolol nope

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