home is where my heart beats

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

It was pitiful how much baggage they had. A few days' worth of clothes wasn't enough to build a new life - a new home; but that was all they had on their trip to the Grounds, and they couldn't risk going home back to Stormbreak to retrieve anything else. So when they stepped into the small townhouse at the edge of New Haven, Zavien had no difficulty carrying their bags himself, setting them just within the door as he took in the space. 

The first thing he noticed was how cold it was. 

The weather wasn't much different from Stormbreak, but the air had a density to it that sat heavy and chilled around them in the dark space of the room. There was a fireplace off to the side that hadn't yet been lit, and the shadows of the afternoon sun stole the sunlight from the windows, casting the space in a dreary atmosphere that didn't welcome or comfort. Nothing about the space gave the impression that it had ever been a 'home,' wood dustings coated some of the flooring and the paint was too perfect to have ever been properly lived in. 

Looking to Lena, his voice was soft, a little numb after the last few days. "I think this is the place. I guess no one's claimed it yet." Stepping in a little further, he glanced at the spattering of furniture that had been donated before their arrival. It didn't surprise him that nothing matched, the odds and ends of people's generosity littering the room with various levels of wear that ranged from gently used to dilapidated. Regardless, he was grateful for people's kindness, to have freely given their own possessions so that the refugees from Stormbreak could live in moderate comfort. 

Zavien offered out his hand for Lena to take, trying his best to put on a smile - to see the positivity in the fact that they were safe with a place to stay. "Come on. Let's see what we're working with."

Lena

// what is to give light must endure burning //

Lena was familiar with New Haven, as she’d assisted in building it. Little had she known that one day she’d be venturing into the homestead with hopes of staying within for a little while – nor how much her heart would wrench at the notions.

Walking in gave her pause – so used to the comforts of the home she’d chosen – eyes widening before closing and opening them again to find everything the same. And it wasn’t that she lacked any gratitude; it was the pang of homesickness filling into her ribcage and poignantly twisting the knife. Mittens growled behind her, wrinkling its face, and all she could do was take a deep breath and nod.

“We can make it work,” she said something like a promise, maybe a conviction for both of them. She eyed the fireplace, pondering over starting it now to ward off the chill, but perhaps yes, they should’ve been inspecting it first. “And I can go shopping for some more clothes and things after-,” though she didn’t have a ton of money, it’d been purposefully snagged so it was enough for a day trip and then right back. Maybe she could work some of it off, or haggle a bit.

Placing her hand in his, she strolled towards the kitchen – noting the bare countertop, the several workings of ovens and kettles, the chairs shoved inward around a plain table.

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

He nodded his head, doing his best to smile and fan at the tiny ember of hope in his chest, hope that this was temporary. "I could probably find some work as a mercenary or do whatever manual labor they have around here." The idea of returning to what he'd been doing a few years ago - training and working and meaningless menial labor - tasted sour on his tongue, reminding him that the Dragoons' entire purpose had just been ripped from their fingertips. It had all come tumbling down around them. 

Swallowing, he let Lena's hand ground him, fully aware that she was suffering just as much, if not more from the loss of the Celestine. He walked the three distracted steps into the kitchen (if it could really be called that), his eyes scanning for potential and means of comfort. There wasn't much in the space, no dishes or food or light. He did his best to see it as a blank canvas, open to every opportunity, rather than a desolate wasteland, devoid of life or happiness. Zavien rapped his hand on the wooden table, finding it surprisingly sturdy. A positive. 

Sol wandered the space, his nose sniffing at the new scents while he chirped excitedly when he found a giant dust bunny in the corner. The Dragoon's smile was a little stronger this time, determined as he repeated the words like a mantra. "We'll make it work." Simultaneously, the analytical soldier of his brain began piecing together rations and supplies. "We've got a few days of clothes, and I'm sure we can spread our money thin enough to get some decent food..." He suddenly regretted leaving their uneaten plates at the restaurant the other night, the spoiling remnants of their anniversary trip; but regret wouldn't help them now, and he turned his eyes to the front of the house. "Maybe we'll have enough to get some gardening supplies." A form of self-sustainment as well as a way to grow beneficial herbs for the coming fights and trade for other necessities. It would take time, but Zavien thought it might be worthwhile to give Lena something to care for again - no matter how small.

Lena

// what is to give light must endure burning //

Temporary was a word she could cling to. It wasn’t forever. It wasn’t an eternity. This was a mere moment in time, a speck in the lives they led, that seemed difficult and disarming. They’d find their way again, back to Stormbreak, where one day a dictator wouldn’t be sitting upon her throne, tearing the rest of the world asunder with her parasitic brethren.

That would be enough for now. It had to be.

If she wallowed and mired any more – especially even beginning to think about the Celestine, any little bit she’d managed to hold would fracture off into shards and pieces. So she rankled as much positivity as she could muster. “I could do some healing and mending. Maybe teaching others about herbs and things.” If they needed it – she didn’t know enough about King’s End’s population.

Mittens stayed hovering over Lena’s shoulder – its face an unwelcome grimace almost the entire time. The Attuned’s eyes lit a little at the thought of gardening, nodding as her teeth rankled over her lip. “Want to go see the upstairs?” So far a kitchen, and some modest living space was available below, but they’d need to visualize the rest too.

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

He nodded his head at her words, certain they could never have too many healers with the coming times. It was also something she could do, something to keep her from feeling helpless or lost, and Zavien smiled as he squeezed her hand. "That's the spirit."

Determined to keep the vibes positive, he turned his attention to the part of the house they still had yet to explore. "Sure." Leading her forward, they passed a small bathroom next to the stairs before making their way up. The new wood didn't creak or groan at his weight, and the lighting didn't flicker or dim along the way. When he made it to the top, they were greeted by a single bedroom with a small dresser and if you guessed it good for you one solitary bed. 

It immediately had his head reeling with possibilities and worries and arrangements. There hadn't been a couch, but he thought the floor might work with a blanket or two, but would he sleep in here or in the living room? Or maybe they could scrounge up enough money to make a pillow wall - even though he didn't think the bed was quite big enough for that. Maybe he should just -

His concern for the sleeping situation made him laugh without warning, thick with amusement and perhaps a touch inappropriate considering their overall situation. 

Clearing his throat, he stole a glance at Lena while he randomly found the blank walls extremely interesting. "Sorry. You know... it's kind of funny that my only worry last week was whether or not I was going to make a fool of myself at the inn." And now they were standing in King's End with no feasible plans to return home anytime soon. How cruel the world could be.

Lena

// what is to give light must endure burning //

She wasn’t sure how much spirit she had left, nor would after the impending pool party debacle, but they slowly made their way up the stairs. With the freshness, the newness of it all, nothing seemed overly disturbing, and she poked and peeked her head in the bathroom, sighing wistfully at things lost back home once more, before they sojourned to the bedroom.

Lena, thoroughly unbothered by it, inspected and meandered, glancing into closet doors, and figuring it wouldn’t much matter, given the state of their current luggage. The walls could be given some artwork or prints or maybe her own version of some drawn manifestation – mind wandering over possibilities for the present, and perhaps hoping they wouldn’t have to last. That maybe they’d find a way or –

Only then did she hear his laugh, and the throat clearing, brow arching as she glanced back his way. “Hm? What do you mean?” Not one to presume, she couldn’t quite hazard a guess at his speculation, mind wandering over other parameters she might have missed.

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

He felt when her eyes landed on him, but he didn't immediately look at her, a soft redness starting at his ears. It didn't surprise him that she wasn't running on the same one-track-mind as him - ever the calm pragmatist - yet it made it all the worse for him to explain what he meant, and there was no going back now. 

Walking over to the only window in the space, he looked to the street outside in hopes of pretending like he wasn't mortified at having to explain how nervous and excited he'd been for their trip. His eyes scanned the lengthening shadows on the cobblestones as he said, "Well, it just feels like crazy whiplash."

Turning around, he leaned on the windowsill and finally looked at her, a sheepish smile on his face. "One moment I was a teenager, trying to figure out how to go about sharing a bed with a pretty woman without looking like a fumbling idiot," he shrugged his shoulders, hoping he didn't have to spell it out as he added a little more solemnly, "and now I'm a thousand years old, having lived through death and war and tragedy." His laugh didn't sound as bright, soft in the bare emptiness of the room. "It just seems a bit silly now."

Lena

// what is to give light must endure burning //

She watched, brow arched but otherwise neutral and curious, awaiting some explanation she’d yet to mire her way through. When the whiplash notions came, she sighed, nodding along. The last thing she’d been thinking about after everything lately would’ve been any future romantic entanglements with Zavien – which was perhaps unfair – but the trauma and the burdens and the displacement had left her torn apart, rather than intertwining and enjoying themselves.

On another sigh, she settled on the bed, sitting on the edge with her hands folded on her lap, witnessing his ears turn redder. “Does put things into perspective,” she winked. “I’m sorry about our trip,” though it’d been neither of their faults – she was apologetic only a few things had gone well, plans had been broken and flayed. “Not how I anticipated any of that going, except for the books,” to which she grinned, hoping he’d catch it, feel a little lighter. “Doesn’t mean it won’t happen either,” was a relinquishment and a reprieve, a shrug and lilt to her shoulders. “But I think we both probably need a few days,” especially once the pool party commenced.

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Zavien wasn't sure how to take her reaction, the sigh that followed making him feel even more a fool for bringing it up. At least she didn't laugh, although he tried not to take the teasing winks as anything against him. Nodding his head, he echoed her sentiments. "I'm sorry too." He also recognized that it wasn't their fault, but it didn't change the disappointment, or the sorrow associated with the events that had cut their trip short. 

Smiling, he did his best to follower her unspoken lead, brightening just a bit at the little that had gone right. "The books were a nice find, and the food started out good." Until it had turned sour and rotten in his stomach. Dispelling the thought, he raised a playful eyebrow in her direction, a chuckle leaving his lips. "Only a few days? I feel like that's being optimistic." Even if they started to develop some normalcy in King's End, he felt like they had bigger concerns to occupy their time. Not to add that it had taken a year for them to even get to this point. 

"In the meantime, I can ask around about a couch." He shrugged his shoulders, pushing off the windowsill to offer her his arm and a charming smile. "And maybe we could go see what food we can scrounge up in town?"

Lena

// what is to give light must endure burning //

Optimism hadn’t been present much for the past few days, so Lena gave a light smile again, trying to find ways to recollect it. “Well, I’m trying to be encouraging,” though her eyes flickered downwards, mulling over the parameters. “We have our livelihoods. We have a place to stay. We have our friends. We’ve clearly built some relationships that stand strong.” With other regions, with their kin and comrades, with one another. “And we haven’t lost ourselves.” She might have been lingering in the threads of her identity being slowly crushed and dwindled away, but it wasn’t going to be that way forever – hopefully. While everything they’d worked for felt like crumbling and crumpling into tethers and lines, it hadn’t entirely fractured and shattered. Just pieces.

Then she sighed. “You know you don’t have to sleep on a couch. There’s plenty of room.” But maybe it left him more comfortable to be in a space further away and not encroaching; in that regard, whatever benefitted him the most, she supposed, would have to make do. “But food sounds good. And we can scout around and see what needs to be done for work.”

Zavien

Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Oh. Don't get me wrong. I'm extremely grateful for what we still have and all the people who stepped up to help." Amongst all the things she'd listed, he could add that they had the deities to assist and small means to fight back. He shrugged as he added, "Things could have turned out a lot worse, but at least we're still together, able to fight another day." That included the two of them as well as the Dragoons as a whole, regrouping and rallying so that they might one day return home. Smiling, he did his best to let faith and hope warm his voice. "I think things will work out in the end." Whatever that may look like, he knew they would find a way to carve out whatever happiness they could, because the horrors had to end at some point. 

Zavien raised an eyebrow at her sigh, laughing lightly at the offer. "It's as much for my sake as yours. I don't think I'd get much sleep lying next to you." The teasing smile on his face implied that it would only be for good reasons like a distractingly beautiful woman and boundaries that he didn't want to be tempted with - although he still questioned whether his nightmares might return for a short while. Whatever the reasons, it sounded like he had a couch to find. 

Feeling that there wasn't anything else to explore for now, he led the way to the door and down the stairs. "That's a good idea. Maybe they can start near the notice board and work our way down the street." He moved first to their bags, checking to see what they currently had and what they'd still need from the market as he waited for Lena to join him.

Lena

// what is to give light must endure burning //

Nodding along, eventually all she could do was playfully roll her eyes at the latest comment. “We’ll see,” was her inevitable counter, rising from the bed and heading back down the stairs, grabbing hold of the railing as she started to meander down. “Good. I feel better with some sort of plan in place.” At least for the moment, when everything else seemed so chaotic and foreign; they could explore, wander, and try to settle – despite all the restless intonations already beginning to crawl and fester back into her ichor, the questions starting to haunt her all over again; an unfortunate vice and symptom of the traumatic last few days.

[FIN]