at the rainbow's end

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Thank you for agreeing to meet me out here. It's been a long time since I was in Torchline for more than an hour or so, and Stormbreak, for all its good points, is very grey." Ronin's voice is soft as he meanders towards the shrine to Rae and Frey, a basket of the Pacifist Plaza's finest fruits in the crook of one arm. He's pale compared to when he lived along the island's tropical shores, squinting in the Leafchange sun, his dark hair swept back from his face.

"Even greyer, since what happened to the Tower," he adds, gazing down at the prismatic colours of the road, before glancing over his shoulder at Torchline's queen. "But how have you been? I feel like all I do lately is talk about terrible things. Some real conversation would be a balm."

RONIN

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

"Of course." Maeve replies easily, trailing a few paces behind him, bare toes sinking into the sand as she walks. The grey comment draws a laugh from him, a smile curling on her lips, "Your husband and I were just talking about that, actually." How dreary Stormbreak was and therefore making it an awful place to hold a dinner party. Not that Maeve really knew what made for a good place, but she imagined a tropical destination was as good of a requirement as any. She strides forward more quickly so she might be beside him, glancing up as he speaks, a small wrinkle forming between her brows.

The Nightshade hasn't seen Remi since the attack or the aftermath of it all, but from what she gathered in the letters from Ronin, things were rough. "I'd imagine so... I'm sorry there wasn't more that I could offer." Not that her being there would have likely changed anything. She could have been killed. Likely would have been. And if Ronin had died trying to keep her safe too? Well, the Nightshade would have never forgave herself. Not that it matters now. She couldn't have known or been there to help in time, anyway.

Maeve pushes the thought aside, instead focusing on his question, knowing that she could at least help in this way. "I've been alright, all things considered. We finally finished the fountain and Edmund got to meet Safrin again. He made her a little bracelet as an offering. She loved it." And Maeve didn't doubt that the goddess actually did love it. It was a gift from a child. The Nightshade's child that was protected by the grace of the goddess. "He's very excited to get to meet you. He wants to Attune when he gets older."

A smile curls on her lips, fondness in her gaze as she glances up at her companion, "Did Remi mention the dinner party?"

Maeve

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Oh? Is he listing a thousand different ways that Stormbreak is not his favourite place?" Ronin wonders with a lopsided smile, though he takes his husband's ribbing with a pinch of salt. Stormbreak belongs to him now after all - perhaps he'll paint all the buildings in brighter colours. Maybe that will help.

"There wasn't much anyone could do, not even me," he tells Maeve sadly, shifting to kneel before the shrine as they come upon it, starting to arrange his offering. "The Tower still fell at the end of it all. I just hope we can rebuild as much as possible."

A smile flickers across Ronin's face to hear all about Maeve and Edmund and Torchline, the Huntsman finishing his arrangement and straightening up again. "Perhaps I will have to drop by for tea when we are done here," he suggests, putting on a tone of lofty airs and graces that would befit a balmy afternoon tea.

The mention of a dinner party piques his interest, of course - mainly the dinner element, but parties are good too. "He did not. How rude. Tell me everything."

RONIN

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

She laughs, shaking her head, "No, nothing like that. He simply said that it wasn't a good place for a party." And she was mostly inclined to agree. Maeve hadn't been a huge fan of Stormbreak when she stayed there for half a season, but perhaps that was more to do with the circumstances than the city itself.

The Nightshade gives him space to arrange his offering, "I have no doubt that you'll be able to." Comes her soft reply, extending her hand to him to pull him up once he finished his quiet prayer. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Ronin. Even when you don't feel very strong." She trusted him with her life and always would.

"He would adore that." Maeve returns his smile easily, giving his hand a squeeze before she releases him so they could walk again. "I can see him now worrying about the tea sandwiches being good enough for a demigod."

Maeve's smile grows at his mock outrage, "Were to start..." She trails off, giving him an exaggerated silence to sit through before laughing, "I suppose to begin he thought you'd be upset I was considering swearing off the opposite sex. Apparently the three of us have chemistry or something." She keeps her tone light, recalling Remi's warning about Ronin's somewhat volatile emotions during Leafchange.

Maeve

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Well, we have only ever attended parties there. Perhaps I will have to throw one eventually, to see if that changes his mind." He's reasonably sure that he can make Stormbreak colourful and lively with enough wine and music. Taking her hand to get to his feet properly, Ronin offers her a grateful smile and a squeeze back, though it's for more than just the assistance. Her words might not change anything, but they can be a balm on a stressed psyche.

"Ah, well," he scoffs playfully as they fall into step with one another, "Edmund needn't fret on my behalf. I'm not particularly picky about the corners on my sandwiches." As anyone who knows the Huntsman well knows to be true about most food, in fact. Whatever the boy presents will be received with genuine appreciation.

His eyebrows raise as the subject moves to Remi, the opposite sex and chemistry, and Maeve is right to tread carefully. Ronin likes the Nightshade, but he can still feel an itch around his hairline where antlers itch to make their appearance. "Dinner party chemistry?" He tilts his head, wondering where this is going.

RONIN

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

”I have no doubt you could change his mind, but to be fair, Remi doesn’t seem like the party type.” She points out of the Huntsman’s husband with a grin. Remington wasn’t exactly a people person. Parties were rather full of people. Of course he doesn’t like them. Maeve returns the gentle squeeze, only releasing his hand when he pulls away, glad she can at least help this way. Even if it wasn’t all that significant.

Her smile stays, shoulders lifting into a delicate shrug, ”I said as much, but he doesn’t exactly see it the same way. Only the best for Safrin’s demigod.” Her shoulder bumps his playfully as they walk along the shore, colors dancing across their path.

Maeve waves her free hand nonchalantly, the other patting his arm where she’s hooked into the crook of his elbow, ”Dinner party chemistry, quest completing chemistry, crawling through tunnels chemistry…” Her smile is playful as she glances up at him, studying his expression carefully with jade eyes. ”I think he means to say we all get along.” And if there was flirting and sexual tension there too? Well, Remi had a better idea of that than she did and he was the one who pointed out his husband might be upset about her potential swearing off of men.

Maeve

A sudden bout of mist begins to swirl rather charmingly around your heels. It’s gone nearly as quickly as it came, followed by the indistinct sound of faraway laughter.

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"He used to be," Ronin murmurs with a smirk. "If you had seen him on our wedding day, I daresay you'd not have recognised him." Things change, though, and people do not hold the same sort of enjoyment for his husband as they used to (a fact that the Huntsman understands all too well). "A dinner party is a little different to a party-party, though. Providing the company is to his liking, I imagine it will be quite enjoyable."

They stroll together away from the shrine, Ronin's offering beading with condensation in the sun as they leave it behind. Bumping affectionately back against Maeve's shoulder, he bounces his eyebrows at her. "Okay, but what kind of sandwiches?" he wants to know. "And how many of them?"

Blue eyes do narrow ever so slightly as she clarifies about their chemistry, and he smirks to himself. "Listen, I can appreciate beauty as well as the next man," he informs her. "But I get along well with you because we are bonded together by being flung across Caido by a supernatural force. Hopefully that doesn't happen again, though. We both have things to do."

RONIN

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

"It's hard to picture." The Nightshade admits with a soft laugh, shaking her head at the image of Remi being a partier. The man that she knew and was so close with never struck her as such, but she had met him after a time where so much had already happened. More pain than she could possibly fathom. Still, she was grateful to know him at all. Even if he wasn't a party animal. "A dinner party is very different. You'll have to have him bring some of his gin. I've yet to try it." And the company would be entirely to his liking considering it would just be her and the Huntsman. Two people that he was happy to more than tolerate.

A hum of consideration pushes past her lips, head tilting to the side thoughtfully, "I imagine your usual tea sandwiches. We can't forget all the little confectionary delights, though. That's the best part." Cookies and cakes and little tarts. Ronin would have to likely eat a whole tray to be satisfied, but she was sure Edmund wouldn't mind. "Plenty to feed you, love. Even with your ridiculous appetite."

"Oh Gods!" Maeve laughs, wincing at the memory as she leans into him. "That was awful and you were so pouty then. I'd much prefer getting tossed across Caido with this version of you." Not to mention she was much better prepared for it now. "It still wasn't too bad. All things considered."

Maeve

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"I have pictures," Ronin murmurs, his smile soft and directed more at the stone beneath their feet than at Maeve. "Perhaps I'll bring some of those along to show you as well." As for the gin? His smile brightens somewhat at that, the Huntsman nodding. "He has been experimenting with blushberries, lately. Perhaps he can bring some of that along as a gift. For a lady with your wiles, it could be an unexpected string to your bow." He winks.

The confectionaries versus the sandwiches, though - he's got opinions on that. "They are not," he objects. "And me and my healthy appetite shall be the judge of that, Maeve."

He had been pouty back then, Ronin rolling his eyes at the memory, but he still thinks he had cause to be. "I did think my marriage was over, if you recall," he says. "But no, it wasn't so bad. You were and you are a fine travelling companion."

RONIN

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

It likely didn't come as a surprise to some that the Nightshade was a bit of a romantic, but to others it would likely not cross their minds. She nods quickly, giving his arm another squeeze, "Oh please. I'd love to see them. You know, I haven't ever been to a wedding." Not even when Phoebe was meant to get married. Her brow arches, curiosity alighting in her eyes, "Blushberries in gin? Do their affects carry over?" She knew that one could become easily flustered after indulging in the fruit, but to combine that with alcohol? The resulting concoction was surely one to be reckoned with.

A laugh bubbles out of her at his objections, bright and melodic, "Healthy? Is that what you're calling it?" Her nose wrinkles playfully as she speaks. "Whatever you say, Ronin."

She does recall. Not that they spoke about it much. Her expression softens as her thumb brushes back and forth over his skin. "I do. I'll remind you that I let you pout without a single complaint." Her smile slips back into place, a huff of breath that could be a laugh pushing past her lips. "Why thank you. I'd be inclined to agree."

Maeve

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Oh? Never? There was a time where they were every other week, it feels," Ronin remarks, smiling down at the Nightshade. "Give it time, I'm sure love will be in the air again soon." And it sounds terrible, but perhaps with the war almost upon them, people might just decide to get hitched just to say that they were able to do it before everything went to shit.

He nods a bit at her question about the blushberries, his smile turning a bit lopsided. "They certainly make your cheeks pink," he says. He thinks Remi is still experimenting with it all, but so far so good, absolutely.

Deciding not to dignify her remarks on his appetite with an answer, Ronin instead leads them away from the Rainbow Road and back towards the Ahi Coast and Haulani waiting beyond. "Luckily I won't be pouting for this dinner party. I hope, anyway."

RONIN

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room

"There aren't many people in my previous line of work who bother with that whole thing. It complicates the job." She says with a shrug, slender shoulders rising and falling as she meets his gaze. "Always seems to when something big is coming." People looking for any form of happiness to seize while the opprotunity remains. No time like the present and all of that.

His explanation draws forth another laugh, nose wrinkling with the motion, "I look forward to trying it then. I'm sure it's lovely." Given that it was Remi making it, Maeve had no doubt that he'd spent countless hours ensuring it was perfect, knowing the kind of craftsman the Lullaby was.

"I hope not. That would certainly make for an unpleasant evening. I was thinking next season would be good? Before Longnight, though." The unspoken 'in case something happens' hanging in the air between them like a dark cloud threatening to dampen an otherwise nice conversation.

Maeve

there will be scrapes and sutures; viciousness and victory

"Ah, yes. I imagine that marriage isn't a high priority for the ladies and gentlemen in your establishment," Ronin agrees. From brothel owner to Queen, Maeve certainly has climbed Torchline's ladder. "Still, even if you've never been to a wedding, I imagine you've been to enough drunken parties to get an idea about what it's like," he adds, stepping down from the stones back onto the pathway and holding out a hand for her to help her as well.

Choosing not to even entertain the if something happens that lingers in the air between them - because Ronin will make some good memories before this stupid war if it kills him - he nods his agreement at her ideas. "Torchline at Deepfrost, then. Shall we come to the Court of the Stars?" he asks. "I don't think I have seen it recently."

RONIN