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!
The Sword was not one for rushing. Never had been – a meticulous, detailed, scrupulous soldier, calculating degrees of machinations long before ever coming into this world. Caido had taught him a great many things, and swallowing down, learning, over heartbreak and triumphs had been perhaps the most difficult. Maybe that was why they took their time, with hosts of losses and melancholies to wade through, before claiming anything else rightfully theirs. And in the end, it’d be worth the time and efforts – placing down firm, formidable foundations, in relationships and statures.
Peeling away another set of logs, he glanced back down as she lingered along his side, detailing other pieces and potentials. He wouldn’t begrudge anyone their occupation in other matters, and the Warden wasn’t one for the spotlight anyway. Discussions of house remodeling earned another furrow to his brow, but only in thought, not annals of frustration. “Could always expand it slowly.” He’d been known to construct from time to time anyway, and with earth magic and their experience, the process might not be as painful or labor intensive. “I am certain she can manage,” though he’d deal with the aftermath of dirty looks and mare glares for seasons afterward. “As long as she is appeased,” he offered with a wrinkled nose, pondering how many treats he’d have to sacrifice for the cause. “But you could have your own plant room too. Without Belial interfering.”
Despite their height difference, Evie keeps a measured pace at Deimos' side, ensuring she can rest comfortably beneath his arm even as he continues working. Aside from idly tossing a few rocks out of the pathway, Evie contents herself with not helping all that much as the sled begins to empty.
"Spring is coming, it would be a good time to start." The ground would be less frozen, and their earth powers would be stronger than winter's grasp. While his creation would always be more useful, Evie wouldn't mind more traditional wooden walls and moss roofs. She had an aesthetic to keep as the Evergreen anyway.
As if reading her mind, humorous intent or not, Deimos proposes - he - admittedly Evie's mind goes a little scattered for a moment, face upturned and shocked. She'd given up her temporary dream of reopening her apothecary shop and had been happy to simply bolster the community greenhouses in wake of becoming Warden. While there were undoubtedly far more plants in Deimos' house now because of her living there, an entire plant room...
"Really?" It's a hopeful whisper, excitement just beginning to bubble up beneath, because there's no true doubt in her question. Deimos would never dangle such a gift in front of her without intending to follow through. Squeezing the arm around his back to pull herself harder to his side, she buries her shining eyes in his shoulder. "I'd love that. Thank you." Heartfelt despite how short of words she finds herself. "Would you change anything for yourself? Maybe make the kitchen bigger? We've been doing a lot of cooking." While Evie would give him the world if she could, some things didn't fit in human hands.
He watched her casually, striving to snag a reaction to the ideas presented. It didn’t take long to register the shock with his own residual snort, used to extending gifts and bestowals to those who deserved them. And though he was known to be mischievous, the Sword wouldn’t promise generosity without the tangible reality behind it. “Really,” he followed on a small smile, launching the last lingering pile of logs onto a neighbor’s stoop, dragging the sled along as they turned another familiar corner.
They were steps anyway – a gradual process, reclaiming lost things and setting them to rights; like happiness and contentment. A bigger house with familiar and personal affects, rather than the hollowed, Spartan-esque structure. Another rumble contorted through his chest, muscles in his arms ensuring she was safely ensconced as they drifted their way along Citadel streets.
And perhaps he should’ve foreseen her own question, but the surprise gave him away, eyes widening slightly. Still not quite used to thinking about his own needs or wants, for old habits died hard, it took him a moment to calculate, mull, and muse over conditions and yearnings. “Maybe a workshop,” and he shrugged his shoulders, pondering, nose wrinkling. “Or a small armory.” Places to create and contort, practice and perfect, in the comfort and sanctuary of their home.
He has gifted her so many things, both intangible and material, that it shouldn’t surprise her. As a woman who built everything she ever had with her own two hands, Evie still forgets that leaning on others, being cared for and given gifts - it’s something she can anticipate now. Her doubt never laid with him, but with her own history of forced independence. Unbeknownst to her, from between the cobblestone squares little buds of green sprout with the force of her emotions. Left behind moments later as he tucks her even closer and they continue on, the row of houses completed.
His own surprise is similarly endearing. They shouldn’t be. They deserve these good things, and the readiness of each one these days is becoming more familiar, but only time can fade the expectations of the past. “Or both,” she retorts cheekily, dimples deep as they frame her smile. “A place to make your weapons, and a place to store them. Seems only appropriate.” All the more reason they’d need a bigger fridge even if children were far off in the future; where else would Evie shove all her fresh produce? “What else can you think of? An extra room maybe, just so we can do all the construction at once.” To be utilized in any manner they see fit until that future became readily apparent.
They’d both known what it was like to survive on nothingness, carved and sculpted and whittled from bare bones and heartache, while desperation and sorrow forged alongside. Building away from that, in virtuous rivulets of contentment and happiness, were new, uplifting, but still foreign, no matter how practiced they’d become at finding ways to nourish, reclaim. So he wasn’t bothered at reminding her, and she could continue to surprise him, and they’d find their way amidst cobblestones and roots. The foundations could maneuver downward now, instead of constantly being scattered amongst chaos, incapable of finding purchase or stability. Their hearts were sturdy and their souls were strong.
“Both,” he snorted, smile curling as he imagined the depths of this house. “Larger kitchen, small greenhouse, workshop and armory…,” listing off the intended ramparts with a shake of his head, amused. “Might as well add a second floor.” Half in jest, half in actuality, picturing the stretching of the single, small house outwards until it crammed its way against a neighbor. At least, by those notions too, they could piece and parse together rooms upstairs, design it to their tastes.
She laughs, legs crossing over one another in a loose and easy sway into his side as she does, hair falling from her hood and forward across her shoulders with the bend of her amusement. "I've never ripped an entire roof off, but how hard can it really be?" There's nothing she won't try once, likely even twice, even something as daunting as major, vertical renovations. "We can stay at my place as needed while we change the roof into floors at least." It would be a squeeze, but neither of them is particularly materialistic, and with magic and stubborn natures to spare they likely wouldn't need to do so for more than a night or two.
"But if we're building upward, I vote we put in more windows on the top floor," she proposes with a shameless grin. They are infinitely harder to insulate in Halo and as such less common, but they have the fireplace downstairs for any heat problems. And even with a greenhouse, if they could let in the natural light upstairs more readily, they'd have room for even more plants.
“Could be amusing,” he shrugged; prone to destruction and ruin when he saw fit. Peeling away an entire roof would take time, especially when done correctly, and the additional proportions of it would ensure labor well into the following season. But at least there other plans and measures capable of being put in place; available spaces for living while they carved another niche into impending lifestyles. No staying at the Palace, no bunking in the barracks. “We can probably put up with Zuriel’s mood about it for a little while.”
His brows furrowed slightly as he dragged the sled along, before arching at her inclination for more windows. Thoughts of additional fireplaces raked his mind, how many heating sources they’d have to arrange. “It might be feasible.” All these discussions made his hands itch to diagram and draw out the arrangements, give them more than just ruminations. Pulling them closer to their current home, with all its necessities for the moment, he maneuvered the vessel into its makeshift corner near the corner. Ever the reasonable and pragmatic individual, he began to remove his gloves, opening the door to let them enter. “We should sketch it out,” before the ideas became too difficult or grandiose.
Zuriel would be close to insufferable, but Evie only snorts a laugh at the mental image. “Luckily we still have LongNight and the end of winter before we can even start. Gives us time to stock up on all her favorites so she doesn’t kill is in our sleep,” she snickers. Belial was the equivalent of ‘just happy to be here!’ so the regal unicorn was the most likely to crush their toes beneath her cloven hooves for removing her from her beloved hearth.
Pleased that her plan for infinitely more plants has slipped past him in lieu of considerations for fireplaces and warmth retention, Evie merely hums innocently, stifling her glee. Walking alongside him as the empty sled is put back in its rightful place, she thumps her boots against the steps to dislodge the impacted snow and abandons them quickly inside the door as they maneuver inside. With the Academy blessing she doesn’t need gloves anymore, but she takes Deimos’ for him to put them away, calling back over her shoulder, “That’s a good idea! Do you want to get the stuff and I can clear the table?”
With a wrinkled nose and a heavy sigh at the future, dreadful aspects of his own companion, he handed over his gloves, instinctually ducking around Belial’s impending impact as they came through the door. The peryton zoomed and zipped and dove, excited to be in their presence, and let them be once he’d received treats from the Sword’s pocket. “All right,” he agreed, patting the carnivorous deer on the head, before maneuvering to the living room and snagging at some parchment he’d left on a side table.
Which of course made him wonder about something else… miniaturized, not quite on the scale of the guild’s massive archives, but for their own personal use. A project of construction already feeling slightly monumental, but he’d put it along the sides of sketches and outlines, just in case.
Once he’d acquired a piece of charcoal, he wandered back to the table and the Evergreen, pulling out chairs for both of them, while offering another musing. “What about a small library?”
Laughter trails behind her as she crosses to the dining table at seeing Belial’s excited divebombing, now commonplace and anticipated. Clearing the table decently swiftly given their shared preferences for cleanliness, the Evergreen returns from putting away a small collection of empty glasses and gratefully sinks into the chair Deimos pulls for her.
Brightening at the unexpected prospect of a library, Evie tucks one leg under herself on the chair (heedless of the hard surface with her inability to ever sit properly) and leans her forearms on the edge of the table eagerly. “I think that would be great! We can keep our personal books there, and maybe even use it as a study if we want to take Warden work home.” It would certainly cut down on the late nights trudging from the council hall back to their home. “Maybe that’s where we can put the other hearth?” It would keep the room cozy enough for personal reading hours and work alike. “Do you think it’s smarter to keep two rooms upstairs decently sparse? That way if we do ever need one we can move our own bedroom up there so it’s on the same level.” It still feels presumptuous, even after their conversation, to say ‘in case we need a nursery’ so she less than gracefully avoids it, cheeks a little pink but otherwise calm. Though it’s years away, Evie can’t imagine not planning ahead and suffering the anxiety of having a baby on a different level, where their cries wouldn’t be heard. “Then again, we do have companions and magic - monitors would be sufficient.”
His head tilted, waiting and anticipating her reaction, before adjusting himself in his own seat. Stretching out the parchment, and using some nearby paperweight to place down along the sides, he allowed her access to peer while he drew out ministrations and machinations. The drawings were initially just blueprints, known outlooks of the current aspects of the home, from living room, kitchen, bathroom, and two rooms along their modest one-level, and then followed through on outlining a second floor.
“Could even build some of it into the living room,” the more he thought about it, small little sections of shelving and desks, marking off the notions to the side. He paused, considering, before notching off a study for potential landscapes. It’d be cozy and comfortable with a hearth included, heating the upstairs portion, before his eyes flicked back to hers. “Probably,” nose wrinkling slightly, he began adjusting the proportions, scraping away some edges of the charcoal until they weren’t blurred lines any longer.
He fought off the notions of the unsaid…barely. “Or do we just put the bedroom there now?” Larger and expanded, with the rest of the downstairs to be fitted to their needs. The multitudes and possibilities were wide open – with studies, rooms for plants, wide open windows, additional fireplaces, armories…as long as it was all accessible and feasible.
Looking up and into the other room where he'd proposed the shelving, Evie hums to herself with a smile. "I think that's a good idea. Makes it easier to keep our personal reading close at hand." Though Sam had always been the librarian type, Evie hadn't escaped the love for fiction and romance novels. Something she and Deimos would never agree on, a source of eternal mockery that she thrives on.
For a moment she merely watches him work, impressed as always by his myriad of skills. Occasionally helping by hastening away the remnants of charcoal off the sides where he had brushed them, keeping it neat and free of any risk of streaking. "We could definitely do it now, it'll let us change the shape and size. Though lugging a mattress up there is going to be a pain, no matter how strong you are," she snickers, squeezing at his closest bicep.
There was a snort following her answer from the other room. “Yes. You can keep your reading far from mine,” simply to see if he could get a rise out of her, indicated by the dimples in his cheeks, if she sought any expressions. From there, he continued to sketch the outlines, waiting for additional input before casting more significant lines. “What do you think?” Leaning back against the chair, allowing her to offer a critical eye. They were goals and aspirations to be certain, but something tangible, rather than the fanciful whims they might’ve been hours before.
As for the lugging things around, his brow arched, as if mildly disappointed by her statement. “Could make it easier with Air and Earth magic,” and he wrinkled his nose, a low grumble in his chest in the pretenses of annoyance – imagining even that could be still irritating, given necessities in pivoting things around stairs. Maybe he could just widen the area and call it good.
Evie can't help but fall right into his trap, puffing out her cheeks in offense like a chipmunk. "I'm going to start reading them aloud to Belial," she threatens, even as her lips twitch in helpless desire to smile. Zuriel wouldn't abide such ramblings, but if she had the appropriate treats, Belial could be bribed and bought. And Deimos would have to hear her at least a few times, forcing him to consume the media against his will.
"Or - and I know this is out there - we could pay someone else to do it," she laughs. A waste of money perhaps, but the convenience alone is enticing. Leaning back over the blueprint, she takes a moment in silence to truly examine the noted dimensions and layout, and her smile is far less humorous and more sincere, more excited, when it returns. "I think it's a perfect first draft," she murmurs as she leans in to kiss his cheek.
