In gratitude

He had sent a letter ahead, requesting the meeting with the Registrar on a personal level rather than a professional one. He had come bearing a covered basket and wearing a light vest in concession to the cooler weather, but for once in his life it did not look like he would make his rendezvous on time.

To say that the King of Torchline was a fish out of water among the cramped haze of the narrow streets of the Last Whisper would be an understatement. Hadama loomed without intending to, his expression stoic but the veneer was thin today as he braved claustrophobic quarters to make his way through the covered lane, seeking the address of the bar that had come recommended to him.

After the third dead end alley he had to turn around in he finally stopped to request directions from someone hurrying by. He initially received a scowl and the start of a curse before they looked up - and up - at him, and swallowed back their words. A surly set of landmarks and turnings followed, and Hadama nodded politely and let the man go on his way before he attempted to follow the directions he'd been given.

In the end he was only a few minutes late as he ducked through the door - a significant tuck of his head and shoulders to clear it, only to find that the top of his head was less than an inch from scraping the ceiling inside - and looked around for a woman who fit the description of Kiada Sinclair.

your battle worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore;
/// that you are ruined ///

It does come as a surprise that Hadama has asked to meet her not as a part of the Grounds government, but as herself. Such that she had agreed nearly immediately but spent the entirety of the time leading up to it trying to figure out why. Eventually, she supposed the reasoning for it mattered far little.

So here she waits, at the bar they’d chosen, dressed warmly with an orange sweater, soft and bunched around her shoulders and her curled horns adorned with a silver chain on each before they seem to vanish into the dark of her hair. She’s cut it shorter now, above her shoulders and tucked back slightly, revealing the gnarled X scar in the side of her neck that Hadama would see as she peers out the window from where she’s sitting and waiting, already with a drink for herself to sip from.

But movement (and the chime of the door) snatches the harpy’s attention, to where she brightens with the sight of the King of Torchline. “Hadama! Over here.” She waves to him as she calls over the booths, uncaring if people look. Honestly, people were likely already looking given how uncomfortable he appears, even if he’s trying to hide it well.

Her smile is bright and slightly fanged as she waits for him to sit, settling in the plush booth seat by the window with her drink cradled between her hands which only helps to make her wedding ring glint. “I'm glad you made it. I hope it wasn't too bad to get here.”

kiada

and you wonder why he lets you, the butcher ///
touch him, the sun ///

Emerald eyes brightened at the sound of his name and he slipped past the other patrons with murmured apologies until he could reach the booth where the person who could only be Kiada sat. He settled gingerly across from her, sighing quietly in relief as it put a little more space between the top of his head and the ceiling. "It was uneventful," he agreed, choosing his words courteously though there was a twinkle of humor in his eye. "Once I asked directions." Something he should have, perhaps, tried sooner, but he was safely there now.

"Thank you for meeting with me. It is a few weeks overdue, but I wanted to meet you properly. And to give you my gratitude." He inclined his head deeply and reached for the basket, offering it to Kiada. Nestled within a layer of soft cloth were a pair of goblets in beaten and polished silver, decorated with cut gemstones of ruby, garnet, and obsidian in a pattern of stylized flames. "For your hospitality during the conflict with the Family." He raised his head, and there was a quiet contentment in his gaze as he looked upon her. "And in congratulations on your recent wedding." Not an affair of state, but Kiada's position in the Grounds gave her some level of reputation nonetheless.

Given how much she handled, it was a reputation on par with the Theocrat's among other leaders.

your battle worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore;
/// that you are ruined ///

Her smile lingers on her face as the Tidebreaker approaches, taking a seat and immediately looks to be more relaxed. Kiada sits forward a bit, legs crossing at the ankles as she tucks them under the lip of the booth to rest her arms on the top of the table with her drink cradled between her hands. “Oh good. It can kinda end up like a maze down here.” She says with a knowing smile, fanged and gentle that’s soon hidden behind the sip of the drink.

She doesn’t ask immediately why he’d asked to meet, figuring that he’d get around to it. If she knew anything from his letters, Hadama tended to be straight and to the point more often than not. “You’re welcome.” She chimes softly, her iceberg gaze snapping to the basket that’s offered that she immediately abandons her glass to take. Inside, she finds the stunning goblets inlayed with gemstones that sparkle and shine in the din of the establishment. She brightens as she lifts one out of the basket to let it shine. “This is really nice. Thank you!” She hums, letting her fingertips trail along the metal and gemstones as her gaze flits back up with a softer smile. “Thanks for helping out where you did, too. Sorry we couldn’t be of more help to you in your region, but from what I could tell Torchline had things pretty handled.” A compliment, to be sure.

kiada

and you wonder why he lets you, the butcher ///
touch him, the sun ///

With the Hollowed Grounds’ alterations in landscape, some of the animals have grown a bit wilder. A bit bolder.

So while it may surprise some, and others not at all, a crow swoops down, snatching at clothing and bags with sharp, irritating, and annoying talons. Maybe you just lost a piece of bread, or a valuable keepsake!

Whoops. Best go try to get it back!

He inclined his head in silent agreement as well as gratitude for Kiada's gracious understanding. The smile might not have come as easily to his face as it did to hers, but his eyes were warm and his posture relaxed as they spoke and she accepted the gifted goblets; a thank you in the form of a wedding present, and the wish for a happy marriage ahead.

"Indeed. The help you gave, in allowing me into the Grounds, was of great help to Torchline as well as myself." He caught the waitress's eye and indicated a drink--

The crow was... well. Unexpected, to say the least. Hadama blinked, nonplussed, as it swooped down from the rafters and tried to grab the other goblet but the metal vessel proved too heavy for the bird and it cawed in frustration as he shooed it away empty-taloned.

"I do not know which is worse. Our hels, or your crows," he admitted, bemused at the attack. With a shake of his head he turned back to Kiada and gave her his full attention once more. "Would you tell me of your wedding?" A courteous question, but asked with the honest interest that the once-Mer had in others.

your battle worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore;
/// that you are ruined ///

“I’m glad to hear it.” Kia murmurs softly, letting her fingers brush along the edge of the goblet right in time for the crow to swoop down. Surprise lifts her brows and when Hadama shoos it away, she flicks a flare of fire magic after it in the form of a few spiraling embers that wink out before they reach the surface of the table.

Looking back to Hadama with a soft laugh, she shrugs her shoulders, head shaking slightly. “Both are equally as annoying.” She admits with a deflating laugh before she delves into offering how her wedding had gone – the customs of the Ancients that she and Fox hadn’t been aware of but left in their diligent Priestess’ hands, content to indulge in her drink and a bit of food ordered to the table until Hadama has to take his leave.

- FIN

kiada

and you wonder why he lets you, the butcher ///
touch him, the sun ///