From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
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!
Again she fell silent, lips pressing together in a thin line. His words rolled over her skin like lava, burning and roiling, leaving very little in their wake. She swallowed a lump in her throat, hands clenching until nails pressed into her palms. The same thing had happened with Emmett. She had floundered and failed and he had lashed out against her. Back then, she had run. She had run and in so doing lost all she had loved, lost the future she had so desperately wished for. Running had led to two years of torment and strife; and she would be damned by Frey before she made that same mistake again. Not after she had worked so hard to come out of her downward spiral. Not after having met Harper.
"I run a brothel, all the gossip I hear is about sex which you also don't like discussing with me." she pointed out with a sigh. "I'm sorry I said anything. I should have said nothing at all. It was stupid and in poor taste and insensitive and short sighted, and I'm sorry." she said calmly, swallowing another lump of emotion that built up in her throat.
She paused again, brows furrowing slightly as she thought how to phrase her words. "I'm...I'm sorry I seem that way. It's...hard for me...to know what I don't know. To ask about what I don't fully understand...and to accept a worldview where I should be somehow uncomfortable with you when I'm not." she said, a mirthess laugh escaping her lips. Seeing the tears rising, she slowly reached out, hoping to wipe any that fell from his cheeks with gentle fingers if he allowed. "Maybe I am a little stupid for that." she added with a half smile.
But he continued to spiral downward and she acted quickly to try and course correct. "You are as many years younger than him as I am younger than you." she said, trying to reframe the perspective on it. It wasn't like he was a year or two younger than Elias. He was enough younger than Elias that it created some impassable distance between them in Elias' world. But he covered his face with his hands and she carefully tried to place hers in his to keep him from hurting himself, even if only on accident. "And I don't know, because you've never said how reckless you were. You're only open about happy things and things that don't matter. When you don't like something you just say I won't understand but I want to!" she said, voice almost pleading.
"Then trip the wires! Trip all of the wires! It is so much better than pretending to be fine when you're not." she said, not an ounce of fear in her voice. He could rage more. He could scream and yell and throw things, and she would stay, just as he had with her.
"I'm not so prudish as to not talk about sex of any sort. Again, it just...it comes down to age for me." Yes maybe he's a bit old fashioned, though not quite in the same way as he views Phoebes upbringing to have been. "Saying you shouldn't have said anything is a manipulative cop-out," he sighs, no real sharpness to his voice, just exhaustion. "You did say it. Though I accept your apology." She appears to mean it earnestly enough, and sincerity means the world to Harper.
He gives her the respect of listening to her, of trying and struggling to find a middle ground for the both of them somewhere in this tangled mess. Part of him doesn't think it's possible, but he's at least willing to try. "It doesn't have to be specific, or eloquent. I'd thought you would have asked me long ago, if only to strengthen your midwifery. But you didn't, and it felt as if you didn't care for the knowledge I had, not if it didn't fit your current worldview." Harper has been to therapy and counseling over years of trauma and loss. A magic-wielding one, but credentialed all the same. So he tries to revert back to saying "I statements", especially if she claims him to be so hard to read. Maybe this will help.
Her hands on his have him reluctantly loosening his grip. What is passable or slightly painful to him will be much worse for her, and despite her inner devotion if things go south Harper doesn't ever want to be the type of person to scream and break things. That's as much abuse as shoving her away would be. "Yes, I am. But we are both fully matured, our hormones have settled, our brains have grown to their greatest potential. That doesn't happen until your mid-twenties. Age gaps are far more acceptable when past that age. But most honorable people would never even want to be with someone still in their developmental stages." Harper tries to use a more universal language, word choices that she can understand and compare to plants or some such idea.
"My happiness isn't fake, Phoebe. But it's true I don't open up. There is much to me that I feel - that I know - you would shy away from." Exactly why he'd only trusted Kiada so far with that information.
He kept looking down, even as he spoke, and in desperation for eye contact she knelt, hand still holding his as she gazed up at him. Phoebe listened, trying to find someplace, some example, where she might bring to light common understanding. But as he goes on at length about what he does know, she only finds more space. "Harper, I don't even know what a hormone is to have asked about it. I didn't avoid asking because I didn't want to know, I just...I didn't know to ask it!" she said, laughing a bit at the absurdity of it. "And...well...I've never met a man who was terribly willing or interested in discussing midwifery with me...it simply didn't occur to me to ask. It's...not that I'm stuck in a worldview willingly, I just...don't realize it sometimes." she said with a sigh.
But of course, he knew so much about her too it seemed. Knew in the sort of superior sense that irked her. He did know a lot about her. She had told him much about her past. But not all of it. Not how it had changed and shaped her core. So she tried to copy his phrasing, both to prove she was paying attention and trying to understand. "When you say you know how I will react to things, or know how I think or feel because of my age, instead of letting me in, it hurts my feelings." she said, swallowing a lump in her throat. Phoebe squeezed his hands a bit. "I might be optimistic and happy a lot, but that doesn't mean I am weak and can't handle difficult things. Especially for people I care about."
She inserts himself into his line of sight, and he looks down at her helplessly. Even though he can feel the hurt and anger in his veins, he has no desire to stoke the flame into something far more dangerous and unwieldy. Already he can feel it fizzling out back into the depths of his despair, sinking beneath the surface until he feels nothing but tortured and vaguely frustrated. "You can't compare me to most men," he says softly, squeezing her hands weakly where they still remain protectively over his own. "Where I come from, everybody is educated on menstrual cycles, maturity, puberty...it doesn't bother me. But all you have to do is ask, and not necessarily in a pointed way just-!" He shakes his head, feeling tongue-tied, dark hair flopping listlessly over his forehead. "Just say 'Harper I want to know more about medicine in your world.' I'll tell you everything I know. It's just...that simple." Or it is to him, which he tries to express. It's exactly why he'd though her to be so fixed in her worldview, if she wouldn't deign to ask even that most basic question.
"I'm not saying you're weak. I'm being selfish. I don't like those things about myself, how can I expect anyone else to like them for me?" He wishes she'd free his hands, to pull on his fringe or scrub across his face, anything to get rid of this anxious energy. "There's so many different reasons why I feel I can't entertain your confession. Age is just one of them."
She did release one of his hands, albeit only briefly so she could reach up and brush bits of his hair from his forehead. "I won't compare you to most men if you don't compare me to most young women my age." she said with a small, almost playful smile. He might have his thoughts about what being a certain age meant, but she had her thoughts on what being a man meant. Phoebe thought it a fair trade off, a new start of sorts with clean slates, preconceived notions forgotten.
The blonde nodded to his insistence about her asking him questions though, even if she didn't know which questions to ask. "Ok. I'll do that. Maybe during LongNight you can teach me some things?" she said, more than willing to put this into action right away if it would make him feel better.
Her head tilted to the side as he continued though, and when he finished, she shook her head slowly. "I didn't say I would like them. I said I would be here for you while you work through them. Help you back up when you trip wires. It has nothing to do with any confession but because you're my friend, Harper. You're...one of the few people I have in this world I can trust...and I want you to trust me too." she said softly. "I'm not trying to secretly woo you...I'm not cunning enough for that. I just...I want you to be happy."
It prompts a halfhearted scoff of a laugh, but there's a glimmer of amusement by the time he lifts his eyes to hers. "Okay, clean slate. I can do that." At the very least he can try, which is all anybody can truly ask of themselves in situations like these. It feels like a new start already, and he tilts his head to allow her to tuck the errant curl where it belongs, feeling himself slowly easing down from that precipice and back to some level of stability. He doesn't have much of it with the grieving he's been doing, but it's enough to calm the racing of his heart. When he has reached that state of calm, he nods easily enough to her suggestion. "Of course. Though...it's probably still for the best that this man and I don't meet." Harper can't properly impart the full gravity of his feelings in his voice, though it comes across quite strong all the same.
"Some things - like choices made, actions - can't be worked through. I can't say whether it will happen, and if it does when. All I can do is say I will try." Years of secrecy cannot be undone in a moment even if he felt inclined towards it. "You are one of my few and dearest friends as well. Even when you drive me absolutely insane." Lips twitching in a ghost of his normal exuberant smile, though the peaceful calm of his gaze is enough to translate that things are on the mend.
It was like watching a pot about to boil over slowly return to a simmer after removing it from the stove burner. His eyes, his expression, the muscles in his neck, the tendons in is hands - they all slowly returned to their more relaxed state. Though at the mention of not meeting Elias...she smiled sheepishly. "Well...him and his son are staying for LongNight at the brothel. His kid is a bit enamored with Miwa and it would have just been a really poor business decision to turn them away." she said with a light laugh. "But you are the bouncer. If you think he is acting up, I trust you to do what you need to." she said with a grin as she patted his hand.
She nodded, understanding at least in theory what he meant. "We all make mistakes. What matters is what you do going forward. And when and if you tell me, I won't hold any of it against you." she said earnestly. But her grin widened at his final statement. "I am the youngest of my siblings. I've lots of practice driving people insane. Now eat a cookie. It is good for your soul."
With his hands still occupied all he can do is groan and close his eyes at that particular revelation. "I wouldn't be acting in my role as bouncer, Phoebe. I'll do my best to stay away from him to try and make things easier. You can handle...whatever it is you'd like to do with him. Unless you need my intervention, I probably shouldn't be around him." A muscle flutters in his jaw as he clenches his teeth for a moment, but he can't convince Phoebe of the man's predatory nature, not when they haven't even had the conversation yet about his world's medicine. All he can do is turn a blind eye for the time of darkness.
He still doesn't believe her necessarily. How can you not hold being a literal child assassin against someone? How can you justify murder? But he nods all the same, if only because he doesn't want to bring them up as examples right now. Snorting softly at her last words, he withdraws his hand to grab at a cookie, and chomps it in half with an exaggerated animosity as he holds her gaze. Swallowing before raising an eyebrow. "I can feel my soul healing already." Dry amusement apparent on his expression.
She sighed and shook her head as he groaned and protested. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by Elias being predatory, given that he seemed to take excuses well enough. He had never forced something on her - except that kiss that one time which she absolutely was not going to mention now. "It'll all be fine I'm sure. You don't even have to be nice if you don't want to." she said.
His dry humor as he munched his cookie made her grin, a thought coming to mind. "You, sir, need to relax and a little pampering." she said straightening. Phoebe clapped her hands, smiling brightly. "Take off your shirt and put on some comfy shorts and lay on your stomach on your bed. I'll be right back!" she said before scurrying out of the room to go to her own. The madame changed from her revealing dress into some short leggings and an oversized tank top, hair piled up into a messy bun atop her head. Then she gathered up a few supplies before hurrying back to Harper's room.
The grin he gives her is a pale imitation of the predator beneath, aware of all the ways he could devastatingly injure this man he's never met. It's not something he likes indulging in, but the threat is there nonetheless. "Don't allow me that, truly. I'll be on my best avoidance behavior, and we'll have to hope that works." There's a sense of finality to the words, because there's little more to say on the subject. LongNight is too swiftly approaching, and he'll not demand something ridiculous like having Phoebe retract her offer of allowing them to stay. It would only end in further dramatics that he doesn't want to happen, not with the actual business side of Halenani in the ropes.
For a moment he blinks up at her, delayed understanding moving like cold molasses in his brain. She's already halfway up before he understands, and though he groans and grumbles he obligingly gets up to meander back to his bed as she goes striding out of the room. Massages aren't something he's every really treated himself to, not when each night he'd only accumulate more bruises, sprains, and sometimes worse. Concerned workers were a risk to his identity he couldn't afford. So he's admittedly stiff and unsure of himself as he lays sprawled on the bed, having changed as commanded. When the knock comes again he turns his head from the pillow he has squashed it into and calls for her to come in. "I still say you don't have to do this. It's not like I've strained anything with my workout." He's too well-trained for those kinds of mess ups anymore, and the idea of a massage just to unwind is a bit foreign to him.
Phoebe chose to ignore his insistance he be given no leeway. He was her friend. He was her bouncer. She would trust him with his actions under the circumstances. Harper was by no means a "violent" man by her definition, so if he resorted to it, she trusted there would be a good reason for it.
"Who said this had anything to do with an injury?" Phoebe said. On his bedside table she set up a little insence burner, lighting a stick that would release a calming aroma. "First of all, you're my friend and you're having a hard time. You need a little pampering and I am happy to give it. Second, you're my employee and I take care of my employees. A good massage to relax the muscles can help prevent injury." she said as she set out the various oils she would be using. Phoebe stepped over to his window and opened it wide. The sound of the ocean waves could be heard, and they were a soothing, predictable rhythm.
Then, likely much to his dismay, she came back to the bed and clambered up, straddling his hips so she could be at the best possible angle and use her weight to help. Phoebe chose the types of oils she would use carefully, mostly sandalwood and fir balsam. Firstly, for their calming and rejuvenating properties, and secondly because they were more masculine she thought than lavendar or orchid. Rubbing them together in her hands to warm them she set to work, carefully targeting specific muscle groups as she went.
Harper barely even twitches as she moves about the room, lighting incense and preparing her materials. He's tired, frankly. His workouts have gotten more strenuous in his grief, working out in sweat what he can't in emotions. Though he is still well-built from his rigidity and strict adherence to his workout schedule even after being dumped here by the portal, the level he has taken himself to still wears him down. Purposefully, of course, but it leaves him wrung out and limp on the bed. As she speaks, he merely gives a groan into his pillow in agreement, reluctant to move his head even as he feels himself slowly suffocating.
Only when the window has been opened does he summon the energy for it, staring out into the fading sunlight with half-lidded eyes. The sound of the ocean is far from what he'd grown up with, but it's soothing all the same. Rhythmic and eternal. It helps distract him from Phoebe settling over the small of his back, and he focuses only on relaxing, on the pressing and rubbing motions of her hands instead of...well, anything else. Harper grunts and forcefully exhales whenever she encounters a knot - and she encounters many of them - but he struggles to keep himself as loose as possible so as not to tighten his muscles back up into tangles. Eyelids lowering more and more until he's half-asleep mush on the top of his sheets.
Phoebe worked slowly and methodically, in no rush. Her sleep schedule was all sorts of messed up by now so staying up late wouldn't hurt her any. Every time she encountered a knot, she took great care to work it out. Apparently he needed a massage more often if this was how his back was! She made a mental note to set a regular schedule for him so he didn't get this bad again. She ended her pampering by running her fingers along the back of his head and into his hair, gently pressing against pressure points.
Only when she could hear his breathing become slow and steady did she carefully roll off of him and the bed. Though he was ontop of his sheets, Phoebe grabbed an extra blanket and laid it over him so he wouldn't have to move. "Sleep well, Harper." she said softly, kissing the top of his head. She collected her things quickly and quietly before retreating from the room.
