[Seasonal Event] This mess I've made

WESSEX out of the night that covers me Lonely Wessex - always lonely Wessex. None of them ever considered that she might like being alone, that she might prefer having a choice, that she was entirely too picky for her own good when it came to people. She’d loved Magrethe from day one. It was all she ever needed - her sister was her world. And then her world broke, and Wessex had to put it all back together again, except this time, she added two more colors: Rory and Amalia. More Rory than Amalia, if she’s being honest with herself. But the mechanics, the specifics of their relationship don’t matter, only that it is, and he is hers now. And Wessex takes care of her people. Gently, as if she were handling a songbird’s egg, she reaches out for Rory’s shoulder; using her hands to guide him away from the counter, she applies persistent pressure to guide him towards the rocking chair by the fire, if he’ll allow it. She grabs a blanket on the way and a cushion, throwing the second on to the seat, and then guiding the man into the chair. It is followed by the blanket, tucked in around his hips. She would have moved him to the bed, but it's in another room, and she’d rather have him in an easy sightline. “Stay here,” she says, as if Rory were a child. “It’s going to be alright. I’ll make some food, yeah?” And then with an absent pat to one of his hands, she moves towards the cooking area to take stock of what’s around. After opening various cupboards and doors, she’s assembled some dried herbs and spices, potatoes, turnips, carrots, pickled tomatoes and long beans, and lots of dried beans. In they all go to a pot of hot water, to simmer and soak and well - who knows if it will be any good, but it can’t be terrible either, so long as the dried beans soak long enough. When the clean up is done and all she has to do is keep an eye on her concoction, Wessex returns to the hearth and where Rory is. Settling herself down, she looks at the leatherworker and makes a decision. Even if he isn't truly awake, she will ask him - “Do you want to hear what happened here during LongNight?” black as the pit from pole to pole i thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul