From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
It was easier to keep busy than to obsess over The Incident, and so it was that Soh found herself in the kitchen, determined to repay some of Harper's kindness with breakfast. She'd read somewhere, in some book or other, that sometimes we have to make our own happiness, and seeing as today was a new day, she was determined that she should find some small bit of joy in the day, even if it was only to do something as simple as making breakfast for her almost-dad.
She tried to be quiet - she really did - but she heard footsteps and then Harper's sleepy voice asking if she needed help. Disappointed that she wouldn't be able to have everything ready as a surprise, she shot a slightly guilty look over her shoulder, pausing in her gathering of ingredients. "Oh, no, did I wake you?" she asked fretfully. "I was trying to be quiet. I wanted to make us some pancakes."
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
She looks like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar, and Harper can't help but laugh at the picture it paints, waving her concerns away with one loose hand. "No, no. I was sleeping by the door so the noise was close by, not your fault. Plus I'm a very light sleeper." And quite accustomed to working on next to zero sleep too. A vigilante lifestyle and then becoming a father had cemented that rather deeply.
Now what's more important is "Pancakes? Oooh yes please. Jude isn't a fan so we don't have them often." Meandering closer, he opens the cabinets and helps with pulling out a few more ingredients - including a tray of blueberries from the fridge, which he wiggles at her with a grin. "I have chocolate chips too, but you'll have to convince me to part with them."
As Harper waved away her concerns, she frowned at him, wondering why he'd slept by the door instead of his bed and knowing that it had to have been her fault. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes troubled. After a moment, though, she seemed to shake off the sadness, placing it away in a box to be tucked away in the back of her mind.
As for the pancakes, she offered a shy smile. "It's one of the few things we can't agree on," she confided. "I love sweets for breakfast." If she had her way, it would be pancakes and waffles every day, but alas. It was one reason why she liked to go out for breakfast with Jude; they could each have what they wanted without making twice the mess at home.
It was funny to think that she'd gone from having no home to having two; Stormbreak, obviously, was near and dear to her heart, but Torchline had very much become a home away from home as she'd fit seamlessly into Jude's family life. Sometimes she worried that she was too much - that she was there too often, that she took up too much of their time and energy - and recent events had not made that worry go away.
Still, she can't help the soft giggle at Harper's jovial nature, no matter how troubled her thoughts were as they all tumbled together. "You can't have chocolate chip pancakes without the pancakes," she pointed out, gesturing to the variety of ingredients sat out before her. "And I believe the pancakes are currently mine."
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Her troubled expression has him softening and holding his tongue, not wanting to explain the specifics lest she feel even guiltier. It had been a gesture Harper had taken willingly onto himself and he would hear no objections to it. So why give her the opportunity to even utter them?
Besides, there are pancakes to focus on! Harper's laugh is loud in the otherwise silent kitchen, but it's a shameless, boisterous thing. "I'll never understand why that kid doesn't like sweets. But more for us, right?" Jude even preferred tart fruits to sweet ones, and Harper was both happy for his teeth and devastated that the boy didn't share his sweet tooth.
She is a tough bargainer, and Harper narrows his eyes at her playfully. "Blackmail? In my own home?" Clutching his chest as if wounded, he stumbles forward feigning being stabbed - and right into her orbit, where he hands her the chocolate chips with a grin. "Consider them advanced payment. If you break our agreement though..." Harper wags a finger at her, letting her imagine a punishment that would never come. "Now tell me what part you want me to do." He suspects the answer might be 'nothing', but hopefully she will indulge him. He'd feel guilty to have her make breakfast all on her own. When she does it with Jude it feels less like an apology.
Truthfully, she'd never thought about the sweets conundrum in terms of Jude's dislike of sweets being more for her. It had always saddened her a little bit that he didn't like them, as though she felt he was missing out somehow. But when Harper said it, she suddenly brightened. Perhaps their differences was what made them such a perfect fit. And if that thought wasn't enough to bring a smile to her face, then what was?
It was easier this morning to compartmentalize, to tuck away all the bad in the back of her mind where she didn't have to look at it. As long as she avoided mirrors, she thought she might get through the day without a complete breakdown.
Soh's lips twitched as Harper staggered over to her only to hand her the chocolate chips, but she did her best to maintain a haughty air. "A promise is a promise," she said airily, waving away his concerns. Besides, however much she might jest, she could never break an agreement - not with Harper, not with Jude, not with anyone she cared about so deeply. She didn't realize that seriousness had again settled upon her shoulders until Harper asked what he could do; he roused her from a momentary lapse in good cheer, in which she'd been staring at the chocolate chips in her hand blankly. With her mind back on track, she swiftly offered a decision: "You can be the mixer."
With her ingredients gathered and a large mixing bowl lying in wait, Soh began to measure out the various ingredients and dump them into the bowl. She'd found a sieve for the flour - for some reason, she always sifted her flour, even when the recipe didn't call for it, and she couldn't remember where she'd picked up the habit - and she added her dry ingredients first, sifting them together into the bowl. Then it was time for the wet ingredients, which she added with a flourish before pushing the bowl towards Harper.
"How many chocolate chips should we add?" she asked eagerly, head tilting to one side. If it were up to her, the answer would be, why not all of them? But she wanted to make sure that the pancakes were made to Harper's liking, too.
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Mixing is better than nothing, though Harper refuses to miss out on an opportunity to keep being dramatic. "Mixing? Here I thought you were a modern woman, but clearly I was wrong. Utilizing men only for their big, strong arms? I thought you were better, Soh." It's more telenovela than Shakespeare, but half the fun is making her laugh - or cringe, because he also deeply enjoys making Jude's teeth ache with outdated slang and the like.
Even so, the moment she hands him the wet ingredients and the bowl he sets about diligently mixing, accustomed to the workout considering he had become the sole head of house in Maeve's absence. Especially since this was practically Soh's second home, which meant two voracious teens to feed. Glancing at the chocolate chips, Harper's brain syncs up with Sohalia's immediately; "Why not all of 'em?" He could've claimed it was so they didn't have to make Jude suffer alongside them but in reality Harper just wants as few people as possible to spread the chocolate between.
Soh couldn't help the giggle that spilled from her lips at Harper's dramatics. Her affection for her surrogate father only grew as he continued his silliness. Perhaps it was that she'd never had a father of her own to laugh with or cringe from, but there was a little thrill in being on the receiving end of such unconditional love that she couldn't quite shake. She couldn't even think up a witty response, so she simply handed him the bowl and turned her nose up at him.
She was contemplating the chocolate chips when Harper suggested all of them, and she was keen to agree - except for one thing. She tore open the back, grinned at Harper, and said, "Almost all of them," before popping one into her mouth. Then she offered him the bag. "Want one?"
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
Her laughter is leagues better than her tears, and though he knows nothing could possibly be fixed in a single night it is a relief to see her in better spirits. Now all that was left was to get even more food into her. Of course, Harper's first step for comforting anyone was usually food, so he could scarcely claim it was planned specifically for her.
Grinning like a mischievous little boy as she extends the open bag to him, he chuckles like a villain and shoves his entire hand into the bag. It's a ruse considering he only takes a few into his fingers, but he withdraws his hand sharply as if snatching a cookie out of a jar that is moments from closing to shove them into his mouth with a happy little hum. "You didn't say what kind of 'one'. A handful counts." Winking, he tilts his chin towards the batter to encourage her to dump them in - lest he steals another handful.
Being in Torchline was much easier than being in Stormbreak. Here, she could simply close her eyes and lock all of the bad away in a box in the back of her mind, not to be opened until she returned home (or never). As long as she didn't look in a mirror - or swipe a hand across her bruised cheekbone - she could even forget about her injuries. Harper's presence made it even easier, all goofball dad and bad jokes.
Even if it was a little over the top, Soh couldn't help but giggle, snatching the bag back from him at the same time as he grabbed at a handful of chocolate chips; the result was that she barely managed to avoid spilling the whole bag in the floor, shrieking slightly as she scooped the bag back to safety. Shaking her head woefully, she dumped the bag into the mixture before either of them could either steal more chocolate chips or tragically spill them in the floor.
As she waited for Harper to stir in the chocolate chips, Soh leaned on the counter, propping her head up in one hand. "Hey, Harper?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere. "What was Jude like when he was younger?"
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
What was Jude like as a baby? Well. That's certainly a sentimental subject. Harper stares down into the bowl as he stirs in the chocolate chips and considers his answer, something both deeply loving and equally sorrowful on his face.
"He was such an easy baby. Rarely ever cried, inquisitive, happy." He'd been horribly colicky when Phoebe had first disappeared, leaving Harper with a newborn and no experience or assistance, but that had faded once Maeve had stepped in to help him - well before they ever began to develop feelings. "We didn't get much time with him at that age before one of his daycare teachers took their eyes off him on a field trip and he aged up. By then he was so polite, well-mannered, but..." sighing, Harper slides the mixed bowl over, finished. "He was so much more carefree than he is now. Shy, yes, but not unsure of himself. Always in the garden with Maeve or demanding Edmund pick him up every day from school." Not the young man that Jude is now, the Jude that Sohalia knows.
"I feel like it's my fault. He told me he aged again because he saw the strain in me of being a single parent again, of Edmund and Maeve both disappearing. I just wish it didn't change him." He will love his son at any age, but seeing the change in his disposition had broken Harper's heart more than any lost years possibly could.
Soh hadn't meant to bring up any sadness in Harper, and she watched his face with a bit of a worried expression. She'd just wanted to know more about her best friend - about who he was before he'd met her, before he'd aged up, before everything that had happened to make him who he was now. But Harper only started to talk, describing an easy baby, a polite and carefree child, a boy who'd grown up too much too fast.
Soh took the bowl, giving it one more stir to make sure the chocolate chips were distributed to her liking, and fired up the stove, listening as she found a griddle to use to cook the pancakes. Jude was her best friend, and she adored him the way he was, so hearing about him being anyone else was difficult for her to parse through.
And she wasn't sure what to say, really; what could she possibly offer to make Harper feel better, to take away the pain that was clear as day on his face? "Thank you for telling me," she said finally, setting the pancake mix aside while the griddle heated. She hesitated. "I know it's not helpful, but I'm glad that things turned out the way they did," she offered. "I wouldn't be here, otherwise." She wouldn't have her best friend, she wouldn't have Harper, she wouldn't have a home away from home. And those were all things that she couldn't imagine her life without. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is that even though it was hard, and even though Jude might have changed, I think he's wonderful the way he is now, and I'm lucky to know you both."
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
It's a hollow comfort, but as he watches her prepare the stove and select her pan he knows it's not her fault. She doesn't know Jude any other way, how could she possibly mourn the weight on the boy's shoulders when she'd never seen him without it?
"He is wonderful," he agrees quietly, for that was never in question. "But I wish he wasn't so self-conscious. So anxious and worried all the time - for me especially." He feels like a failure of a father to have burdened Jude, no matter how unintentionally. Clearly he hadn't hidden things well enough back then. Such were the downfalls of an open relationship with your child. It was easy to forget some things were better off with them not knowing.
Groaning, he pushes a hand through his hair. "Gods, sorry. I shouldn't be putting it on you either." Aside from Hadama he has nobody to talk to about these things, and it never gets any easier. "What I should be doing is getting his baby photos, the best form of revenge a parent has." It's not far actually, the scrapbook sitting on the bookshelf in the adjacent living room. He retrieves it swiftly and lays it out on the counter next to the stove for her to peruse, happy to distract them both. "This one is my favorite from when he was a newborn." Pointing to a picture of a tiny baby Jude holding a dragon plushie bigger than he was, completely asleep and drooling with the tip of one wing stuck in his mouth.
Maybe it was just Soh's relationship with her best friend, but she'd never thought of him as overly anxious. A little shy, perhaps, a little withdrawn - he always let her take the lead in social situations, for example - but Soh knew that she could get him to smile, and laugh, and open up, perhaps in a way that no one else could. And that was her Jude, the real Jude, and she wished that Harper could see more of that than the self-conscious, worried son that he knew.
But Soh was glad for Harper's openness, and she stopped him as he went by to the living room for a tight hug. "You can talk to me about anything," she said. "I can handle it, I promise." Maybe it was a silly thing to say to someone who was basically like a father to her, but she wanted him to know that she could be there for him, too, just like he was there for her.
Releasing him, she turned back to the pancakes, scooping out a couple onto the griddle to cook. She kept an eye on the pancakes, waiting for the batter to start to bubble up before she could flip them, perusing the scrapbook with the appropriate oohs and aahs and giggles at various pictures. "Aww!" she exclaimed at the dragon picture, a fond smile on her face. "That is precious."
If I can stop one heart from breaking If I can ease one life the aching
It's a sweet sentiment, one that makes Harper smile, but he shakes his head slightly all the same even as he hugs her back just as tightly. "I'm sure you can, but you shouldn't have to. It's my job to take care of you, just as it's my job to take care of Jude. Some things parents are meant to deal with alone or with their support network." Not that he has much of one, but Hadama has listened to many of his woes, what was one more? So long as he doesn't make the same mistake as he did with Jude. And sure, it makes it plain he sees her as a daughter, but he doesn't care about keeping that secret.
But there are pancakes and pictures to contend with that even hugs and sentimentality can't overshadow. Hungry stomachs have no use for emotions after all. So Harper happily hands over the entire album for her to peruse, content to share happy memories until the moment they can eat.
