gossipy old hens

loren

When Jigano had asked for a place to meet and some food, Loren had sent a note back asking to meet at the Kraai. He hadn't been there in a while, and he didn't remember if they had a kitchen (nor would he put them out of supplies if he could help it). So he cooked up a bit of meat and whatever vegetables the Palace pantry could spare. Wrapping it all up, including some cheese and a bottle of wine, he'd made his way down to the bar.

It was pretty much deserted this early in the day, so he picked a table in the corner and set his bundle down on it. Astra had come along with him, since he'd been rudely ignoring her of late. She was very happy to munch on an apple he'd found as he petted her dutifully, smiling down at his companion.

Never judge a book by its cover.

Jigano wasn't precisely delighted to be walking into one of Sunjata's bars, but he liked Loren a great deal more than he was currently frustrated with Sunjata, and Weaver's touch on the place helped smooth some of the rough edges. He had no difficulty winging his scaly way to the Citadel, carrying another sack of grain to add to the stores for the refugees, though hefting it along the way through Snowcloak on a pair of human feet was significantly more awkward, even with Isuma reeping encouragement.

He was glad to be inside and someplace he could set the heavy sack down, even as the gryphon went winging straight for Astra with a delighted trill of greeting. He followed at a more sedate pace, though his grin for Loren was just as warm, especially seeing the smile on his friend's too-often tired and stressed face. "Loren, thank you for the note," he said, settling into place across the table. "And reminding me of the raven service. I'm glad we'll have that to keep in touch with next season." He offered his own greetings to Astra before tilting his head at the Healer in invitation to begin. "How have you been? It's good to see you looking well." Very good, indeed, considering the trials of Longheat.

loren

Astra, of course, rose to her feet, delighted as always to see a friend. Meeting the griffin halfway, the luxere belatedly bleated a greeting at Jigano, before prancing in an excited circle around Isuma. Loren, maybe surprisingly, grinned back at the bard. "Better get used to letters from me. I have every intention of staying as in touch with you as possible, even if the borders are closed."

Unwrapping the food and drink, he began setting it out, along with the plates, cutlery, and glasses he'd brought along. "I've been...good." The healer sounded a bit shocked to be saying it, though he grinned reassuringly at the other man. "Actually." The Launceleyn's expression grew a bit melancholy. "I miss Maea but...I'm trying to rejoice in the good times we had together rather than dwell on the fact that she's gone."

Clearing his throat delicately, he gave Jigano a curious look. "How about you? How've you been? And how's Rory. And the Hollowed Ground." Pausing, Loren let out a huff of laughter. "Sorry. I know it hasn't been that long, but...it feels like a long time, somehow."

Never judge a book by its cover.

Jigano grinned at the antics of the companions as Isuma bounced in excited circles then fluttered up to try and land in Astra's antlers so she could rub her downy cheek over the luxere's fuzzy forehead in greeting. As he settled in to his seat, Loren's 'threat' was met with a genuine laugh and an earnest nod of agreement. "I imagine things will get very boring here once those blizzards Neron warned of locks everyone in," he agreed ruefully. "I can keep you updated on how our preparations are coming along since you know the drill from last year." Perches and snow moss, food and light, offerings and desperate prayers to weakened gods in the days of darkness.

The tableware brought a delighted grin to his face and the bard leaned forward, eager to see what Loren had cooked up. The grin softened to something warmer at hearing that things were going better for his friend these days, but slipped away at the mention of Maea. Jigano winced, but nodded slow understanding. "I'm working my way back to that mindset, too. Though it's been an uphill battle." His smile, when it returned was crooked as he thought that Sunjata might say he was putting that mildly.

The genuine concern from Loren - not new, but it had been a long time since Jigano had seen it untarnished by grief or bitter loss - touched the bard and he drew a steadying breath, letting his expression relax back into easier lines. "Losing Maea so soon after she came back has been hard," he admitted quietly. "I... haven't always dealt with it well. But Leafchange has been a time of healing. Rory and the hounds are well," he added with a fond smile for his mate. "He's talking about maybe traveling next year. The Grounds are still recovering from Fiat Lux, but things have been blessedly quiet of late. We're starting our preparations for Deepfrost and LongNight. Oh - Phoebe has left us for Torchline," he added, almost as an afterthought. "She's closed the Medical College and left us without an official healer as we head into winter." And the most dangerous time of the year - though no season was truly safe.

He shook his head, dispelling the disquiet he felt at that abrupt decision, turning his attention back to Loren with renewed curiosity. "What of yourself? How goes the Infirmary here? Are you and Sam still, ah, together?" Last he'd heard they had been, but both the bookmaker's and the summoner's relationship status changed so quickly he never knew from week to week who was seeing - or not seeing, or sleeping with on the side - with who.

loren

Astra's eyes got big when Isuma landed in the luxere's antlers. Bleating happily, she settled on the ground, content to catch up in the way companions did with her griffin friend. Loren grinned at the sight before looking back up at Jigano.

Letting out a huff of laughter, the healer nodded at the bard's guess. "I hope you don't mind if I say that I'm very much wishing for a boring season, though I'm not holding my breath." The Launceleyn's tone was wry. "And yes, I would like that, thank you."

However, the easy smiles faltered a bit as they spoke of Maea. Reaching out, he placed his hand briefly over the white haired man's assuming Loren could reach it. As he did, he sent a pulse of understanding towards Jigano. "I know. It's hard to believe that she's gone, some days. But...each day is a little easier than the one before." The healer's tone was sad, yes, but not the bone deep grief that had once consumed him and sent him on a self-destructive spiral.

However, he couldn't prevent his eyes from widening in surprise at the mention that Rory was thinking of traveling. Giving the bard an amused, but happy look, the Launceleyn split the food between the plates and slid one over, then filled up the glasses with the wine he'd brought. "The famous Rory is considering leaving the farm? Things must truly be changing in the Hollowed Ground." His tone was lighthearted and teasing.

Humming as he listened to the rest of the news, he snorted when it got to Phoebe. "Good thing they've got an unofficial one in you." Shaking his head a bit, he gave the white-haired man an unimpressed look. "Is it going to be a big problem?" Loren's tone was mostly matter of fact.

"There is little work in the infirmary, so I've been trying to take my talents outside of the Palace. Distributing medical kits to the hunters to take out with them, giving out medicines in Snowcloak, that sort of thing." Smiling sadly, he shook his head. "No, we're not. I wasn't ready to commit to a relationship with him, and he wasn't willing to continue with something casual." He sighed. "Probably for the best, considering we wouldn't have seen each other for a full season." However, it was clear he missed the bookmaker's company, if nothing else.

Never judge a book by its cover.

"Why would I mind?" Jigano grinned across the table. "I think everyone sane is hoping for that!" It would be a nice change of pace, that was a certainty.

His grief was still deep, though much of his anger had been spent in his earlier encounter in Torchline, and he managed a tired smile of gratitude as Loren reached out to him. "Oh, it's easy to believe that she's gone. She's been gone before. It's just... hard to believe that she's not coming back, this time," he admitted quietly. "But it's sinking in, a little more each day." So many regrets, but letting them go was part of healing from the loss.

Rory was a subject that would always bring light back to Jigano's eyes, however, and he left Maea's death in the past as they changed the subject to something more down to earth. "Mm. Changing, yes, and... letting go of the bars," the bard agreed. Phoebe was a subject less dear to the bard's heart, and he tilted his head in wry acknowledgment of Loren's list of the former-Dean's list of projects half-started and rarely finished. He wondered what had become of that organ-plant she had been trying to grow...

"Mm. Not really much of a loss, I suppose, put like that. I don't have the time to devote to the position full-time, though," he admitted openly, for once not trying to take on more than he could handle. "But there are other Healers in the Grounds, Naturals who would be more invested in the position and the people under their care," he mused. "Ones who wouldn't abandon them at the drop of a hat." Or at least, who would fight for their patients and the duties they had asked to take on.

He listened to Loren's own recent activities, nodding in encouragement of the missions that had taken the Healer out of the palace and into the streets. "It sounds like you're making a real difference here," he encouraged with a warm smile, one that faltered at hearing that the relationship had ended so soon. "Ah... condolences on it not working out," he murmured, a little awkwardly. Clearing his throat, he looked over the meal that was being laid out. "Ah, is there anything I can help you warm up?" he asked, unsure what magics the summoner had unlocked since their last chance to chat. "I don't remember if I told you that I've gained fire magic?"

loren

Nodding, Loren just shrugged at Jigano's question. "I don't know. Sounds naive and innocent on my part, I suppose." He let out a huff of laughter, though there was something sad about the way the healer smiled.

Swallowing against a sudden lump in his throat, he nodded at the bard's words. Seeing as the Launceleyn didn't necessarily trust his voice at that moment, he sent a pulse of understanding towards the white-haired man. Then Loren raised his glass. May she burn brightly There was sorrow there, but fond remembrance too. He sipped a bit of wine before setting the glass back down.

Raising his eyebrows, he gave Jigano a confused look. "What bars?" Of course, as the healer spoke, some of the uncertainty faded away. "You mean the bars that seem to keep people trapped in the Ground?" He wasn't quite sure, as evidenced by how slowly and carefully he spoke.

Grinning, he let out a huff of laughter. "I do hope you don't mean Evie. I had already spoken to her about taking on an Associate Grand Healer position here, which she accepted." There weren't that many people who fit the description. Then his expression grew more serious and he sighed. "But she hasn't decided where she will be spending her Deepfrost. And if she wishes to take on the role of health advisor of her home, I would completely understand, and I would wish her the best."

Shaking his head a bit, he sighed. "Not as much as I'd like, but that's a familiar feeling to me at this point." He tapped his glass with a finger. "The Halovians are as wary of outsiders as the Grounders, and I don't blame them in the slightest." Expression wry, he shrugged. Surely the bard had experienced his fair share of that particular prejudice.

Taking another brief sip of the wine, the Launceleyn ran his free hand through his hair. "Honestly?" He gave the white-haired man an unhappy look. "It's not just that I'm not quite ready to settle down yet. I also...don't know if I can picture a life with Sam."

Quickly, Loren added, "Not because there's anything wrong with him. Quite the opposite." Tone apologetic and a bit wistful, he looked down. "It's just...his life is in the Ground. And mine is here."

However, he had to glance up and smile as Jigano man revealed he'd developed fire magic. "No, you failed to mention it. I suppose congratulations are in order. And in that case, yes, the food is a bit cold." The healer pushed both plates closer to the bard. Clearly, the Launceleyn was pleased for the white-haired man.

Never judge a book by its cover.

"A bit of innocence is welcome," was all the bard said with a quiet smile, thinking of Remi with a pang of regret for what had been lost. Much had been gained, of course, but not without price.

Loren's words on Maea were met with a pulse of grieving agreement, Jigano knowing that holding onto his anger would help no one, and not wanting to drag Loren into it when the pale woman deserved the mourning of a friend, not the misplaced protectiveness of a guildmaster she had left behind. She had made her choices, as everyone kept saying. One of these days, perhaps, it would start to stick.

"Not all the bars are as physical as the barrier was," Jigano agreed quietly. "The prison of tradition, of familiarity, of family, of routine... breaking from such things, letting them go, is never easy, even when they've only brought pain. At least they're known. Stepping away... stepping through them isn't done lightly. For many who lived their entire lives within the barrier they may never step through a portal. To honor the Old Gods, to spite the New, or simply to focus on the life they've always lived."

He was surprised to hear that Evie had, in fact, done as he had just suggested she wouldn't; abandoning her people in the Grounds to run off to another region, just as Phoebe had done. It forced a pause in the conversation, and a reevaluation of the young woman he had found a tentative friendship with in Healing, back before Fiat Lux. "She was the only other strong applicant for the position," he agreed, more sober than Loren's laughter. "Though I don't think anyone has had a chance to speak to her about it yet. I believe Amalia intends to bring it up with her... though there is little enough time before the portals close for her to decide." The last was spoken with a slight wince at how quickly time was getting away from them again, as it always seemed to this time of year.

Talk of Sam made things a little more awkward, but Loren was quick to offer reassurance, and Jigano tilted his head in wry acknowledgment. "It's none of my business, but I was surprised to hear the two of you were together, for that reason," he admitted. "Sam... I don't know that he can give less than his whole heart, no matter his intentions at the start of things. And being part of two different governments in two different regions makes it harder for you both than for most others." He shook his head ruefully, but there was fondness in his smile for both men, and perhaps a bit of relief that it sounded like things had ended amicably.

Accepting the plates, Jigano held them in his hands and let the heat of his fire magic sing softly through his palms, a gently increasing warmth to bring things up to temperature gradually. "What about you? Any new shifts or magic these days?"

loren

Smiling faintly, Loren nodded at Jigano's comment about innocence. Continuing to smile, the healer's expression grew sad around the edges as they shared a moment of silence for Maea. However, for him at least, it was a moment of fond memories rather than heartbreaking grief. He tried to share that with the bard.

Humming thoughtfully as the sage spoke about the many barriers, both self-imposed and not, that people faced, the Launceleyn sent a pulse of understanding towards the white-haired man. "Sometimes all we can do is hold out our hand and hope they'll take it." Loren spoke quietly, in a contemplative tone.

Nodding, he sighed. "As far as I'm aware, she spends most days at the Arcane Academy. You might want to reach out to her, since you're here already." Pressing his lips together, he shrugged. "Unless Amalia would be upset that you spoke to Evie first?" There was a great deal of uncertainty in his mind when it came to the Shield, and he made no attempt to hide it from Jigano.

Letting out a huff of laughter, the healer shook his head. "Believe me, no one was more surprised than me." It came out with the easy honesty of the truth. "He...asked me. And I told him up front that I couldn't fully commit to a relationship, and he was okay with what I could give him. Until he wasn't." He ran a hand through his hair, once again smiling a bit wistfully. "But we've spoken since, and we're both happy it happened." Grinning reassuringly, he spread his arms a bit in a 'what can you do' gesture.

At the bard's question, the Launceleyn's brow furrowed. "Honestly? I think so, but I haven't been able to figure it out. I can...sense things are different but...not quite what they are." However, he didn't sound annoyed, just sort of amusedly resigned to these sorts of changes by now.

Never judge a book by its cover.

This was a kinder, gentler Loren than the man he'd sparred with in Apopo's jungle, and Jigano was grateful for that softer warmth today. It was, perhaps, his turn to need a little comforting, and he welcomed the Healer's understanding and compassion for both Maea's loss and Rory's stubborn decision to remain in danger...

No less than the bard insisted on putting himself there.

"I would, normally... but... things are rather..." he trailed off on a sigh, unsure of what to say. He gave a helpless little shrug as he looked across the table at his friend ruefully. "Amalia and I are trying very hard to rebuild what I... broke... between us last year. I don't want to do anything to step on her toes at this point. Not when she's suggested I go to Safrin again." And there was anxiety in the bond at that thought, and a flicker of fear beneath it for that particularly goddess.

Talk of Amalia's brother was a little easier, if only because it was always easier to be on the outside of such drama than in the midst of living it. Still, he was glad that his two friends remained friends, and he returned Loren's smile gladly. "I'm glad that you have good memories from it, then, and that I can invite both of you to dinner when Deepfrost is over without it being awkward," he added with a chuckle.

He tilted his head curiously at Loren's uncertainty, but gave a wry nod. "That's how I felt with the magic of my item shifting," he agreed. "Until I actually used it, it just kind of... itched beneath my skin for a bit. If we had more time before the passes closed I'd offer to help you train a bit and see if we could coax it to the surface." The approach of Deepfrost was beginning to weigh down on them all, however, and he wasn't looking forward to Halo being cut off from the rest of the world for a full season.

loren

Loren couldn't help but grin as Jigano revealed things were tense with Amalia. However, the healer softened his expression when Safrin came up. "Let me guess. Amalia disapproves of pretty much everything you do and say?" He let out a huff of laughter. "Look, I think she's wonderful, and I don't know exactly what happened between the two of you, but she has impossible standards. I think you should take everything she says with several grains of salt."

As the conversation swung around to Sam, the bard sounded more certain. "I don't know about it not being awkward, but it won't be because we slept together a few times." The Launceleyn's tone was wry.

Nodding, he smiled faintly. "I don't think you've told me about the item shifting. But yes, that's what it feels like." He shrugged. "I appreciate the offer, but thankfully I'll have plenty of time to experiment once the snows set in."

Never judge a book by its cover.

Loren's support was more welcome than Jigano was willing to admit aloud, but he only gave a slight shake of his head, finding a wistful smile for his Healing friend. "I... perhaps. But she is not the only one with impossible standards. I suppose that's why we have to work so hard for what comes so easily to others." He exhaled slowly, seeking to put into words feelings he usually shied away from examining. "Once, I considered her the closest thing I had to family in this strange world. Part of me still does, even now," he admitted quietly. Part of him still yearning for the closeness they'd once had. "Only Rory can wrap me more thoroughly around his finger than she can. But.. she never asked for that power over me. And... I don't know even now how to take back what I had never intended to give in the first place. It just... happened." He shrugged helplessly, but there was a rare blush on his face, embarrassment burning in the Attuned bond to be admitting something so personal and private aloud to another. It was weakness. It was a weapon, to be turned against him some day. But he made the decision to trust Loren in this, handing the summoner one of the few keys to the bard's heart. "Please... keep that to yourself," he asked, half aloud and half through the bond.

Future dinners might still be awkward because Sam could still manage to be a bit in the socially tactless side, but then again all three of them were guilty of that at one time or another. Jigano tilted his head in acknowledgment that at least any strained conversation would be for other reasons than previous romantic entanglements and left it at that.

"I don't think I've told anyone else about it, either," he admitted wryly. "It's not the sort of thing I share casually." A man of many secrets, was Jigano, but Loren was a friend, and one Jigano could finally relax around now that they'd been through trials and tribulations together and emerged stronger than ever from the ashes. "I hope it's something that you can work out without being in mortal danger, at least. Some of these shifts and magics seem to be stubborn that way." His voice rueful, he remembered his own bet with Remi, seasons back, as to who could find a shift that arose without calamity to trigger it first.

loren

Humming thoughtfully as Jigano explained further how things stood between him and Amalia, Loren smiled ruefully. "Look, I'm probably the last person to give you advice on family, adopted or otherwise. Nor am I one to speak about giving others power over you that they shouldn't have." He shrugged. "But just because you value her doesn't mean you have to value all her opinions." Still, he gave the bard a sympathetic and understanding look.

Nodding in agreement, the healer smiled for real. "Of course." There was no hesitation in his voice, and he let out a pulse of reassurance.

Again, he sent a pulse of understanding towards the white-haired man. "I'll do my best." However, the Launceleyn let out a huff of laughter, since they both knew that was unlikely.

Never judge a book by its cover.

Jigano found his lips quirking reluctantly into a smile about Loren's suitability to serve as a sounding board in family matters, dipping his head in acknowledgment of his friend's point. "Thank you for lending me your ear, though," he said with quiet earnestness. "There aren't many I could talk to about this, and it means a great deal to me to have someone who will listen." He nodded slowly at the advice, exhaling a cleansing breath as he found his footing once more. "Yes... and I need to tell her the same goes for me. I have many opinions," he added with a wry smile. "But it's alright to disagree at times. It's how Sam and I are still friends in spite of the gods we follow." Learning to find the similarities hidden behind the differences the Old Gods and the Voice had built between Ascended and Attuned.

Loren's word was accepted without question, Jigano smiling and sharing his gratitude with his friend through the bond as their meal was warmed to perfection and he handed the summoner his plate back. "All I can do is hope," he admitted with a chuckle. "I'll look forward to hearing about it by raven, if nothing else!"