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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Silly? Never. His worries do seem exaggerated, though. That's not something she can decide for him; his feelings are his own, so she isn't about to invalidate them if she can help it.

"It sounds like this hurts you deeply, the way being passed over and taunted at that horrible booth was." It's not quite the same situation, but it's not so far off she won't use the comparison. "Nothing will fall apart as you work toward being as fit as you were before all this. I will still love you and find you attractive the entire time. Nothing will stop me from making love to you and enjoying your body when the time comes except you asking me to wait. This I swear to you."

He's allowed to feel and hold back as he needs to. It would gut her to have to wait longer for that reunion, but that isn't his fault or his problem. If he needs more time then she'll wait. End of story.

"Not deeply..." He trails off, actually looking embarrassed now. Its stupid, its as stupid as his reaction to the booth she brings up, when he should have focused on the lost autonomy, on being menaced by that specific LIEs supervisor who had it out for them, or everything else that was fucked up about the situation. Instead he was bothered about being perceived as old.

Everything Amelia says about enjoying his body should have him raring to go, and he can't deny there's a stir of interest between his legs, but its smothered under the blanket of general embarrassment with his own shallow vanity.

"I'm alright, Love. It's nothing dire enough for oaths," he leans down to kiss her, removing her hand gently from his face as he does, mostly so no one's wrists get bent awkwardly as he moves. "Just minor bothers that shouldn't be bothering me anyway. I'd rather not give it more attention than its due."

Edited (typo) 2025-11-13 16:20 (UTC)

She doesn't let him shake this off the way he's trying. "There is no 'should' or 'shouldn't' with feelings, Wolfe. You know that."

Before he can pull away completely, she catches his wrist and puts that hand between both of hers. "You're allowed to feel things however you will. If this bothers you, then it bothers you. I'm not going to judge you for that. All I want is for you to be honest about what you're feeling and let me be here for you as you find your way through. If that's holding you quietly, I'll do it. If it's reminding you of the many fine qualities of your appearance that haven't changed and I still love, I can do that too. But please, don't hide this because you feel like you 'shouldn't' be doing something.

"We escaped a literal hell, yours worse than ours in many ways. Feeling different or worn down because of the experience is not unexpected. Let me-- let all of us be here as you find your way through. Please."

It's verbose of her and maybe it's too much in ways she usually tries to avoid, but she needs to say this and needs him to hear it. She frowns softly, determined to prove to him through her words and conviction her truth.

"I love all of you, Wolfe. That hasn't changed a bit since I lost you or got you back."

Huffing good-naturedly at her insistence, Wolfe stops trying to pull away and presses his forehead to hers instead, practically bending double since she's still sitting and he'd already risen to go check the cooking. "Mine wasn't worse, and that's a terrible path to go down. It was equally horrific for everyone and I'm grateful we managed to escape."

He almost didn't. If Jon hadn't sensed him or he hadn't made his bid for freedom right when he did, he might still be strapped to a monitor, or already faded into nonexistance. He owes Jon his life in a very tangible way. "I almost didn't, so I will tell you I feel very foolish for dwelling on how I look when chances were good I wouldn't end up here at all. It has little to do with how much you love me, or I love you, which is far more in either case than I mourn my lost physique."

He kisses into her hair as he draws up again. "I am deeply grateful that you're here for me, and I will say when my vanity bothers me overmuch, but if I'm allowed to feel how I feel, then I'm allowed to feel foolish too."

He pauses a beat, then grins. "Though if you want to go on about everything you love about me, you're just as much allowed to express your feelings."

He does get to feel foolish, though she doesn't like that for him. It is what it is and she can't change it, so she allows his comment to stand with only a nod. Besides, he offers a far better distraction by subtly asking for praise. It's one of her favorite things to lay on him when the opportunity presents itself.

"Shall I start with my favorites or go top to bottom?" she smirks at him, eyebrow arched in curiosity. "Both start in the same place, but they quickly diverge after I go on and on about your clever mind, with its capacity for planning the best surprises for loved ones and also your dreamsforsaken insight into everyone around you. It's both the greatest blessing and largest curse I've ever encountered in my life, that insight."

She did say it started in the same place, so why not start while he chooses an answer?

Somehow Wolfe manages to look both very pleased and bashful as he drags himself away to check that the food isn't burning, and that expression does not change as Chris wanders in and heads for the showers. His presence is noted, but Wolfe doesn't interrupt what he's doing or what Amelia is doing to bring any attention to it.

"Considering how much I've heard you curse my insight in the past, I'm surprised it's one of your favorites."

"It keeps me honest and has helped me grow in ways I couldn't on my own. I curse it because I may not like what I hear sometimes, but that doesn't make what you say less worthy or important." Her pragmatism at its finest.

Her smirk grows as she continues. "I could have started with your eyes, too. I'm certain you know how perfectly colored they are, but they're so expressive I often lose myself to them. Happily so for how readily they reflect the love you have in your heart."

"If it serves you then I'll count it good as well," as if it's not something he prides himself on. His eyes he's a little more surprised at. He never thought of them as anything special, but he'll take the praise all the same. That is the point of this exercise, after all.

"They do reflect what they see, so I'm not surprised what you see there is a boundless depth of love," he replies, pleased at himself for the turn of phrase.

That earns a bright, silvery laugh from the rogue. "And then you go and ruin it by being overly sweet with that well-shaped mouth of yours. I swear, I never know if you're going to force a blush from me, tear me down to foundation then help build me back up, or sweep off my feet in any given moment. It's all the more difficult when you give me any kind of look or use all those things you've learned against me."

She's teasing about some of this, but not all. This is still a thing she loves and adores about him, but that doesn't make him less of a pain in the ass when he does all of these things and more so easily.

"I try to provide what you need alongside what you want. I'm thoughtful like that," he says with a wink over his shoulder, working at stirring the pot to make sure nothing stays against the bottom too long. "But you do the same for me. So much sometimes I question if I deserve such attention, but Matron only knows how hard you are to resist."

"And is it my heart you want most? Because that's all I want--" No, no that's not right. Her smile softens. "That's all I truly need of you. It's what brings me the peace I need and all the happiness I didn't know I wanted until I met you." Disregarding everything she 'remembers' from Ragneux, she wanted nothing for herself upon arriving in Duplicity. Now she craves what he brings to her life.

She smiles down at Patience as she comes over and settles at her feet, then gives the dog a few gentle pets atop her head. "You have it, of course. It's not as full of love or as expressive as yours, but it belongs to you. Shared with others," only Chris at this point, but she refuses to say that aloud, "but I give it to you without hesitation."

"I disagree," Wolfe turns at her putting her affections down, dismayed that she would dare.

"I believe I've become something of an expert on your heart, so believe me when I tell you it is full to bursting with love for whosoever you deem worthy. The way you love is breathtakingly fierce and achingly beautiful, Amelia Royer, and I will not have you put down that which I hold in such high esteem. When you want something, you can't help but strive for it head first, hang the consequences, and if it weren't for that drive in you we wouldn't have what we have. So please, don't ever speak poorly of this precious gift you've give me."

"I didn't mean--" She's too slow to reassure Wolfe she's not trying to speak down about herself, only that she knows him to have far more heart than she does. It's not a bad thing or meant as an insult, only a fact as she sees it.

But Wolfe does as he always does and praises what she does with what she has and can give. Her expression softens even more and she offers her hands to him where she sits with Patience's snout over one leg.

"Thank you, love, for telling me all this and saying things I often struggle finding the words for. You're right and I didn't mean to lead you to believe I don't think the same. I don't have reason to speak of myself in such a way, and so I don't. I intended to lift you up, not to cause you worry. I'm sorry that I have, though I admit hearing all your praise of me does make me love you all the more."

Not enough to do something so reckless as to break her word to wait until they've spoken with Chris, but there's another thought in the back of her mind when he brings up how she goes for what she wants regardless of the consequences. Now's not the time, but someday, soon she hopes, she needs to do things right when she asks him officially for his hand.

"Hush, no more apologies, not to me." He kisses her again on the lips, affectionate and loving. "I think I can move past any self-consciousness that might still be lingering. All I want now is for us all to relax and rest up so we're at our best tomorrow."

Its not deflection, instead he honestly just wants to hold on to feeling good for at least a few hours. He didn't think he could be pulled out of today's funk but she's managed to drag him into the light and he wants to bask for awhile.

"Dinner should be ready soon. I'd say we should tell the others but I think they're having a moment of their own."

Edited (pressed post too fast x.x) 2025-11-15 05:31 (UTC)

"Then we'll eat dinner and relax until sleep takes us." A beat, and she chuckles softly. "After I fix up the pants for you."

It's the last practical thing she has tonight. Everything else can technically wait until morning when they do their final preparations. Tonight will be the relaxing haven they didn't fully get last night before falling asleep and Amelia is truly looking forward to it purely for the sake of having it. A strange and new thing for her, and one she's very much ready for after years of always being on edge.

She smiles, standing and gently rubbing his arm. "Let them have it. They deserve it after the struggles we've been through today. I'll wash the dishes to keep my hands busy until the last possible moment. There's no need to rush anything now."

Edited (rip didn't see the edit, so here's one from me lol) 2025-11-15 05:38 (UTC)

"My, washing the dishes and fixing clothes at the same time? Your powers of multitasking are beyond comprehension." He can't help but tease in as good a mood as he is. There are still a myriad of conversations to be had and he can't deny there's a small part of him that wants them had sooner, that needs the certainty of whatever they decide, but mostly he just likes this feeling of lightness. It's been a long time since he's felt it.

"I can get the dishes, Love. I'd prefer to go to the Shadowfell tomorrow with trousers on," he chuckles as he stirs the pot then pauses thoughtfully. "Do we actually even need to do dishes if they're going to disappear with the rest of the temple?"

She gently nudges his leg with her hip. "Your pants will wait until I can have you try them on. If dinner's almost ready, that isn't now. It isn't going to take me that long to finish them." She has the memories of doing this literally hundreds of times over several decades. Those may not be her memories, but her hands still move as if it is. The many adjustments she made to clothes in Duplicity can attest to that.

"I was thinking only of rinsing what we used at lunch so we can use them for dinner," she laughs. "But you make a fair point. We can ask Chris about it when he makes it out of the shower." Something she still doesn't want to rush. If he and Jon are enjoying themselves, who is she to interrupt?

"Fair," he replies, gently bumping her back with a quick movement, winking at her. "Though if my only pair of pants gets ruined in the Shadowfel its going to be a very dire bit of tailoring."

As for Chris and Jon in the shower together he makes no comment. He's not jealous, not of that, but... perhaps simply of the closeness. He should be grateful for the ease he has with Amelia, the way she'd brought the sun out again, and he is. Its no time to be bothered by how he'd left things with Chris. He said he needed a few days, so he needs a few days. Wolfe shouldn't be greedy.

Dammit, this isn't what he wanted to dwell on. Shaking his head to clear it, Wolfe lifts the spoon from the pot to taste. "Pretty good for having no spices or vegetables, if bland. What do you think?"

He offers it to Amelia, his hand cupped under the spoons bottom to make sure it doesn't drip anywhere.

There's something about how he changes the subject suddenly that makes her wonder if there's something more on his mind that she should ask about. As he's said nothing and they've already had one difficult conversation, she chooses to believe everything is all right or that he would bring it up if there were more to it.

She leans forward and blows on the liquid in the spoon for a moment before sipping. "Very good for having nothing to add to it but the meat." She smiles warmly up at him. "I imagine your cooking is only going to get better once we have more for you to use. You may even get tired of all the ingredients I intend to ply you with. I may not be able to cook, but I do know what I like in my food."

Is that a challenge? A threat? Probably a bit of both.

"Oh no, not just mine. You're finally going to break that kitchen curse now that we're here." He points at her with the spoon accusingly, a playful grin on his face. "I have nothing and no one else to focus on once we get settled, so you're going to be making serviceable food in a year or two and having chickens begging you for mercy."

Its a silly image, one he hopes will make her laugh even if she might have misgivings about his decleration.

It does make her laugh, and also cringe. "I hope you understand what you're signing up for. What Aloïs said about me making people sick? That wasn't entirely from memory. I tried to help him make something at the city apartment once and had us both retching for over a day."

The lady is full of poise and cleverness, but that does nothing for her kitchen skills.

"We'll start small. Vegetable soup, dumplings. We could work up to potato handpies and other things that won't make us ill if they come out poorly. I'm not letting you near meat or eggs until you're ready." Not since he's learned about things like salmonella.

"We could start with bread? I've had a hankering for a good fresh-baked loaf of bread for days." It was such a weird want when he'd been imprisoned. Did he want his freedom? His loves? To not have sex for at least a week? Of course, but above all he wanted a just-from-the-oven soft inside, crunchy outside loaf of bread with half-melted butter to smear on it.

She will keep to herself that several of 'her' attempts to cook included no meat and still got everyone in the House sick. He has the right idea to start with something that's harder to fuck up.

"I have no idea how to make it. I've never tried or paid attention to someone who was making it before. Warm bread is a nice thing to have." It also requires no spices or herbs, which will make it very easy to make in any temple Chris conjures for them.

"I used to know. There's yeast involved. Flour, obviously, and water. I think thats all? Unless we want to make it sweet with honey or put savory herbs in it," he muses, leaning against the counter and looking up as he thinks.

"You mix everything then let the dough rise. Once its risen, you bake it." Surely its that simple. He remembers it being when his mother showed him as a child. "I'll see if I can get an actual recipe somewhere when we get to a town."

"Maybe Chris can teach us the finer points. He's very adept at baking." Or so she thinks given the ease with which he makes various cakes. She huffs a laugh. "He might even enjoy it, if only to make fun when we manage to cause trouble." An inevitable thing when she's involved.

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wolfehawke - 2025-11-16 03:44 (UTC) - Expand

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