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!
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
Phoebe smiled a little and nodded at him. "Trying is all you can do." she said. Success was never guarenteed, and that made the attempts all the more valiant she thought. Of course, that was probably her own optimism shining through a little bit.
But her demeanor fell again as the topic of LongNight came up. "Some student you are." she said teasingly, but the lightness didn't quite reach her eyes. She looked far and away, her mind in a different place and time. "She would be foolish to not choose a place of healing as a safe haven." she said quietly, tilting her head up to look at the ceiling. "The bar of the Rathskeller isn't exactly the most opportune place for surgery. That I know from experience." she said quietly.
"Really, her time would be much better spent devising a codeded knock for people to use, so those inside can tell the difference between us and the monsters at the door." That had been a great pitfall last LongNight, not knowing who was friend and who was foe behind the door.
Those words were more true than Phoebe might have realized: trying was literally all Loren was capable of. Not succeeding, not actually accomplishing anything, not getting through anything he’d set himself to. Just trying. Which was not, and never would be enough.
Just like him.
As the conversation swung around to the college, the summoner closed his eyes briefly, shoving everything out of his mind but the desire to get through the rest of this conversation. When he opened them, they were hooded and his face was inscrutable. ”Yeah sorry. I hadn’t heard about any classes and...I’ve been busy.” Being imprisoned, and dealing with the Roses, and LongNight. Those were excuses, though, and he’d learned better than to make those by now.
Well, there wasn’t a knock but it wasn’t as if Wessex hadn’t done anything to prepare. Indeed, there was a code, not that he could blame the healer for not knowing that, considering she'd been out of her mind. Of course, they didn’t even know if the monsters could read or pluck thoughts from their minds, so a code might backfire horribly. However, not his decision. Nothing was. ”She did come up with a code. Luxere. And again, I’ll take your recommendations to her, but it’s not up to me.” He rubbed his eyes, tired of feeling like nothing he did or said was getting through to people or mattered; although he’d accepted the fact that his opinions were pretty much useless and had willingly relegated himself to the sidelines. But that didn’t make it easy for him.
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
”Don’t be sorry, there haven’t been any yet. I was just joking with you.” she said with a small smile. ’Though Professor Cera will be holding a basic first aid session soon in preparation for LongNight. The more people who know how to properly treat an injury, the better.” she said.
But despite his inscrutable expression and perfectly poised manners, as the topic came back to LongNight and her thoughts on it, it became quite clear the Loren was not interested in the conversation. At least not anymore. She frowned a bit, wondering if she had said something wrong or stepped out of line or misunderstood…but she figured asking would only irritate him further. ”Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” she said quietly, shifting where she sat so she could stand up. ”I should go and let you get on with your day, I’ve already bothered you enough.” she said, brown eyes cast to the floor.
If Phoebe hadn’t noticed by now, Loren lacked the sense of humor he’d possessed in their previous encounter. ”Ah. I see. And yes I heard about the class and was planning to go.” He meant that too: despite everything else on his plate, he would find the time for that. Somehow. Then again, it wasn’t like he had anyone or anything to fill his nights anymore. Of course, the development in his healing magic probably meant he didn’t actually need classes. Again, though, he’d told Phoebe that he didn’t have endless energy. And he could at least teach other people.
Because he couldn’t be everywhere, and he couldn’t fix everything. Couldn’t fix most things, if he was being honest.
As the healer frowned, and excused herself, the summoner realized he’d been acting horribly to her since he saw her. ”No, I should be the one apologizing. I didn’t...it’s just been a rough time.” Knowing she’d probably ask why, he held up a hand to forestall whatever response she was about to come up with. ”There’s nothing that can help me except time.” He didn't want her to feel bad for his own unhappiness, or feel responsible for saving or fixing him.
After all, there were some wounds that couldn’t be healed by either of them, no matter how skilled they were.
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
She smiled a little as Loren informed her he planned to attend. ”That’s wonderful. He hasn’t earned his full professorship yet, so I am glad there will be someone there I know who can give honest feedback on his tutelage.” she said. Maybe things would really start to get going at the college now that the blight was passing, and they could focus more broadly on healing like she had always intended.
Phoebe glanced up at him as he apologized, stopping her in her tracks. Her lips parted to inquire what was wrong, but his raised hand stopped her. She simply stared back at him with wide brown eyes as he clarified, and her honeyed gaze softened, suffused with warmth and empathy. ”I understand. I’ve…found myself in a similar time recently.” she said in her gentle tone, sounding far more natural on her soft voice than the yelling in their first encounter. ”Still…if you ever wish to talk or vent about it, my door is always open. Or if you just are lonely and want some company.” she said, sincerity ringing clear in her voice and expression.
Loren almost certainly wasn’t going to give honest feedback when he knew nothing about medicine: just because he had been a scholar (or at least fancied himself as such) in his past life didn’t mean he felt at all prepared to learn about the intricacies of healing. Saying all that to Phoebe, however, seemed like a bad idea. ”Well, I’ll do my best.” Again, that’s all she should really expect from him, and his best wasn’t really that good these days. Or ever.
Although he was always lonely, he almost never wanted company. Or at least, he would never accept it. He was still fully convinced that his problems paled in comparison to others, self-inflicted as they were. And he especially didn’t want to talk about his problems with a near stranger, healer or not. However, those were also thoughts he should keep to himself. ”Thanks. I appreciate it.” Then, because he figured he should warn her, he added, ”I wouldn’t expect to see me anytime soon, though.” All he really wanted was to go away and think for a while, without talking through his issues with anyone who’d judge and not understand and just make everything harder to bear.
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
"I'm sure you will. You don't strike me as the sort to do things halfway." she said with a soft smile. No, in fact even from the very few interactions they'd had, Loren seemed more the sort to be all in or not in at all. It wasn't the healthiest way to be but she could appreciate it for what it was.
She laughed a little when he said she shouldn't expect him any time soon. "The offer isn't about frequency or even accepting it. Just offering the comfort of knowing there is a place with hot food, a warm bed, and company if you ever want or need it." It was the offer of the most basic things a person needed - and that in many ways was a grander offer than anything more complicated. Security in the basics always came first.
"Speaking of, you still look like you could use a sandwich. I made a Sheppards pie earlier if you'd like to come have some. Common fare for your noble tastes but good." she said with a small smile.
Loren supposed it depended on Phoebe’s definition of halfway: he certainly threw himself into everything he did. Unfortunately, he rarely completed whatever task he’d actually attempted to do. ”Maybe.” He really didn’t want to speculate on his personality or his nature. As far as he was concerned, there’d been more than enough of that in his life recently, and most of the introspection and retrospection hadn’t unearthed any truths he was happy with.
”I have all those things at home.” Even though he knew he was being a bit petty—and it was only partially true—he couldn’t stop himself. Granted, Beatrix and Jace were still barely around, even though he’d managed to convince them to come home, and one of the houseguests was blighted, and the other two seemed to have disappeared into thin air, and he slept on a cot, and there were quite a few drafts and the hallways were cold...okay maybe he didn’t have any of those things at home. But he’d tried, at least. ”Thank you, though. Again.”
At the healer’s kind offer to feed him, he hesitated. On the one hand, he’d lost most of the weight he’d put on since his return in the aftermath of everything with Remi; on the other hand, he didn’t want to impose, and he knew he should probably get back to the Manor and make sure no one had set the place on fire or died. However, it did sound kind of nice, though he snorted at her comment about his tastes. ”I was a farmer, remember? And before that my family used to drop me off in the wilderness to fend for myself on a regular basis. I wouldn’t worry too much about my tastes being highbrow.” Indeed, he often preferred simple fare, since luxuries had been denied to him for so long and were often too rich for him.
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
She smiled and nodded. He might have those things at home, but sometimes it was nice to have others take care of those things for you. But it was his prerogative. The offer was on the table either way. "You're welcome."
But he accepted her offer of a meal and she grinned, laughing a bit at his description. "Well good! Most of the things I make are very quaint as the girls at finishing school used to call it." she said, rolling her eyes. Snobby brats, the lot of them. "Why did your family send you out into the wilderness like that?" she asked curiously as she led the way down and towards the clinic. Though he would find the walk identical to the path they had taken there last time as well.
”I shudder to think what those girls would say about the farmhouse where I used to live.” Somehow Loren thought they’d call it something other than quaint. Then again, he imagined it was less to do with what they said than how they said it: cruelly, intending to cut deeper than any physical wound could. He knew a little bit about the games nobles played, especially with those beneath them.
And he’d been made entirely aware of how complicit he’d been in those systems of oppression. While he wasn’t a noble any longer, he knew he had a lot of work to do to make up for how he’d hurt others, both intentionally and unintentionally. More than one lifetime, probably.
Her question caught him off guard, though it probably shouldn’t have. Sighing, he decided to give her an honest answer; if she was horrified, well, it might scare her away. He was still terrified that he might succumb to the madness that seemed to claim his kin and his blood at some point or another. ”To make me stronger.” Well, it was a little bit more than that, but that’s what it boiled down to.
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
"Well, they called my family's two room home a hovel, shanty, and shack, depending on the day." she said with a slight shrug. She had heard every sort of awful comment, and based on the age, it had never been so finely veiled as he may have assumed. "So those are probably about right." she said, patting Pim's head as he came up to trot alongside her.
She did blink in surprise at his answer to her question. "Make you stronger?" she said, almost confused. She knew the Launceleyn's were a rather renowned magical military family, but that didn't seem to make sense to her. "I thought most mages didn't focus on physical strength?" she said, as a rather leading question. Surviving in the wilderness struck her as a show of brawn rather than magical ability.
”Wow. How creative of them.” The anger in his voice surprised him, and he closed his eyes for a moment to rein in his temper. Phoebe didn’t deserve that, not from Loren. ”Sorry. Both for what they said and...sorry.” He knew it wasn’t his fault, but he still couldn’t help but feel that his family had perpetrated some of the awfulness that the healer had experienced. Yet another sin to lay at the feet of the Launceleyns.
Apparently keeping it succinct had just invited more questions. His eyes flicked to her before flicking away just as quickly. ”Most don’t. Some do.” However, it was less about the physical fitness than it was about fitness in general. ”It was supposed to teach us to be self-reliant, and keep our wits about us. Survive in any environment, figure out creative ways to use our magic.” Loren hadn’t really ever been let into the inner circle—and least not until fairly late during his time in Northaven—and his family hadn’t been in the habit of justifying anything, even to its own members.
I've been very hopeful so far
Now for the first time I think we're going wrong
Hurry up and tell me this is all a dream
Or could we start again, please?
Phoebe laughed a little and nodded at his assessment. "You should have heard their poetry. Truly inspired." she said with a giggle as she shook her head. "Don't be sorry. Young girls are some of the most ruthless beings in existence, regardless of status. If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else they saw as unworthy or different." she said with a bit of a shrug. She would never lie about how awful those years were or how cruelly she had been treated, but she wouldn't allow it to make her bitter either. That was them winning in a sense.
Her brows furrowed a bit in consideration. She supposed it made some sense, even if it was a bit out there. "Was it effective?" she asked, glancing up at him. "My father and brother taught me and my sisters some survival skills and such just in case something awful happened but...dropping someone in the middle of the woods with nothing seems...extreme." she said softly, hoping not to offend him.
It was probably for the best that Loren hadn’t heard their poetry, given that he might’ve been tempted to send something nasty after them. ”I’m sure.” As Phoebe spoke about young girls being the nastiest beings in existence, however, he fell silent. While he couldn’t exactly speak to her comment—having not spent a significant amount of time around any young girls besides his sisters Astra and Beatrix—he had a funny feeling that the family members that tortured him to make him stronger had a better claim to the title of monster than some petty young noblewomen. However, he wasn’t going to voice that to the healer.
”It depends on your definition of effective.” Had it hardened him? Yes. Had it taught him to survive no matter the cost? Definitely. Had it sharpened his wits? For sure. Had it ruined his ability to ever have a normal relationship with anyone? Well, the jury was still out on that one but he imagined the answer was probably yes as well. ”It was extreme, yes. Did your family ever go on regular trips to the woods?” It was probably an abrupt change of subject, but he didn’t like the dark memories that were bubbling to the surface.
