River of Stars - Act 3


 * '''Spacious Kitchen - Eventide Keep

A rather large chamber of gray granite, flecked black and silver, with accommodations for a large cook stove, ovens, washbasins and pantry storage. Often busy with the work of chefs, scullery maids and manservants, it is often the focal point of activity between the dining hall and the ballroom.

It is the Twelfth hour by the Shadow on Fealty, the 4th day of Bleakdreary in the year 628.

The kitchen fires are banked - the staff long gone home. And.. A Syladris, with a very empty bottle of wine, is snuggled up next to the still-warm brick of the ovens, eyes closed ... and singing, softly, to himself. It's.. not very good singing, but it's singing nonetheless - a hissing, slow rondel, so quiet as to have the words indistinct.

Muri steps into the kitchens and looks around, as if checking for anyone to shoo her out. A soft smile creeps across her lips as she sees the room empty... or nearly so. On light feet she crosses the kitchen and kneels next to the Syladris. "Messer Aeseryi?" she says. "Ye all right?" She lays a gentle hand on his arm.

His crimson eyes are unfocused, as he opens them - his hand coming up to rest on hers, there, "I think it wasss too much. The room isss moving funny." His words are slow, deliberate .. and he looks down to that bottle, still held in that free hand. "It isss lonely here. It iss nicsse, but it isss very lonely. But it isss alwaysss lonely. I do not wisssh to hurt anyone - but here it isss worsse becausse there isss ssso much fear. I want to go home. Isss that bad?"

Muri reaches over and tries to take the bottle from Aes' hand. "Me fren," she says. "Ah thin' ye had enough." She looks at his worriedly and and sighs. "Yer used t' bein' wid yer people at de Refuge, aye? Dinnae Lady Voryen find ye a knight t'escorts ye home?"

He lets it go, willingly enough, looking up to Muri - "Am I pretty? I do not think I am pretty." He looks down at himself, that long tail coiling slowly. "I am too dark and my sscaless are odd colorsss." The Syladris.. no. Is not sober. Not in the slightest. "Ssshe hasss been very busssy. I have not been able to assk her. Blackfoxss will be angry with me.. and I cannot protect her and..." His eyes squeeze shut. "I broke my promissse."

Muri sets the bottle down, away from the swishing of the Syladris' tail. "Is de drink, Aeseyri," she says. "Yer scales and yer tail and yer horns all very very pretty." She reaches up and pushes away a haphazard strand of hair from his eyes and strokes his cheek. "Ye be a good one, but 'tis been difficult aye?" She looks around the room. "Ah won'ers if some shak tea would help ye," she mutters, before looking down at the sylardris again. "Ye wants t'tell me 'bout yer promises?"

Aeseyri makes a face. "Tea burnsss. I do not like it.." It's lazy, unfocused, the naga smiles, as she moves that hair, looking into her eyes with his own crimson ones, unfocused but... intrigued. "You are very pretty." And he answers that question as his eyes drop. "I sssaid I would be back. That I would keep her sssafe. And now I am here and ssshe isss not ssafe and ssshe will worry or will go alone."

Muri sighs. "Aye, alright no tea den," she says. She tracks his movements watching the crimson eyes carefully, blushing as he makes mention of her looks. As his gaze drops hers does also, and she moves her hand back to his arm. "Who be goin alone?" she asks. "Is it Keirissa de one Ah'm supposed t'find fer ye?" She gently strokes his arm hoping to comfort him.

Aeseyri shakes his head, slightly - his horns gleaming in the dim. "Blackfoxss - but I am worried for Keiresssa - ssshe goess alone into the wild ssspacesss and..." He lets that go, somehow managing to lean carefully into that touch. "It isss warm here."

Muri smiles and continues to stroke his arm. "Yer warm 'cause ye leanin' again's de ovens," she says. "Warm is good, right?" She frowns slightly. "'Ave ye eatin lately? Sometimes eatin' helps a belly overdone by drink. Ah could make ye somefin? Mebbe find some pie fer ye?" She sighs again, feeling a bit helpless. "Ah wuz gonna go find Keiressa fer ye, like ye asked, but Ah dinnae know where t'look...Dis Blackfox... she knows ye here, aye? Ah'd take ye t'her but Ah'm not a knight." She shrugs and tilts her head watching, always watching.

And then he just asks, carefully - "I am not hungry - " He looks back up to her. "What isss it you wisssh of me? Do you wisssh the sssame asss otherss? I do not know.."

Muri leans back slightly, her brow furrowed. She shakes her head. "Ah don' know wot de others want, me fren," she says. "Ah jus' wan' t'help ye." She sets back on her heels. "Ah came yestereve cause Ah was sore worried dat somefin happened t'ye, somefin bad cause Ah dinnae know if'n de... killin' was in Fas'held or de Refuge. Dis were de only place Ah could thin' t'find ye. Ah jus' wanted t'know ye was safe. An' now... now Ah don' know how t'help ye bes'." She drops her hands to her lap. "Ah'll go if'n ye needs me to... but ye don' look good now, ye looks like ye needs lookin' after." She looks over to him again. "Ah don' want ye t'be alonely."

"I do not wisssh to be alone. It isss very cold, being alone." Aeseyri shifts then, his tail uncoiling and stretching out, full-length, under the prep-table. "But I do not wisssh to hurt you. I hurt othersss - or they are hurt by being clossse. It isss not fair." That last is plaintive, quiet.

Muri watches Aeseryi extend his tail and moves to sit beside him. She looks to the ceiling as if searching for stars among the hanging pots and pans. "D'ye remember us talkin' at de Snowbasin?" she asks. "How we looked up and saw dem rivers of stars and dem moons chasin' after 'em? Dat was a fine night, aye?"

"Yesss - " He looks up as well - "There are ssso many ssstarss." As she settles in there, the Syladris leans in close - a childlike nearness; he even moves to put his head on her shoulder. "Ssso very many."

Muri leans in ever so gently to let him settle on her shoulder. "Aye, so many t'see," she says. "De all be glitterin' an' Ah tol' ye 'bout de lady dun had a crown she los' up in de sky?" She breathes in and out slowly. "Dat be de loveliest of nights Ah evah had." She looks down again, her gaze falling on the tip of his tail beneath the table watching it move with grace. "Den dere was de night at de tavern," she says. "An dat servin' gal, she let'cha kiss her and Ah... Ah... behaved badly. Dat be de Ah thin' I regrets." She reaches up and pats his head gently. "Now a body could look on dem two nights and say dere was hurt dere, but me, alls Ah'll 'member now is de stars and how we look on dem. An' it makes me happy."

"Why were you angry with me for kisssing her?" It is a soft, quiet thing - his eyes sleepy, that tail coiling back, his body shifting to slowly bring it around her, and then himself.

Muri chuckles. "Ah wern't angry at ye fer kissin' her," she says. "Ah was angry at /her/ fer bein' so bold as t' ask fer a kiss from ye!" She sighs and smoothes her apron absently. "Wimmins here don' take such liberties wif men lessen de be... de sort dats not good, dats wantin' such from mens wots supposed t'be only fer married folk. An' me... well... me thought ye should'nae be round such wimmins. But fer sore, Ah was mos' angry at meself, truf' be told." She fiddles with the hem of her apron.

Aeseyri murmers, softly. "what isss married?" Unashamedly, he sighs - happily - his head still pillowed on her shoulder - it makes for a quiet hiss.

Muri reaches up again and strokes his cheek with her fingertips absently. "Married be a thin' us folk do t'tell other folk dat we's only gonna be wid one other person in a very special way," she says. "Tis much like a promise, but more than a promise too, cause it's one dats supposed t'last till de day ye dies, and between times de two folk does everythin dey can t'support each other, raise small ones, an' such." She sighs again. "Does ye folk have big promises lahk dat?"

"The Sssyladrisss do not have familiess. I do not think ssso." Aeseyri just.. snuggles in closer. "It isss a thing of your people, I think."

Muri nods. "Ye folk be differn't," she says, not a judgment, just an observation. She shrugs lightly so as not to disturb the Syladris from his rest. "Why d'ye thin' ye hurts folk, me fren? Ye be de gentlest of sorts."

"I think they wisssh for me to be thisss 'married'." Aeseyri says that with grave seriousness. "And it isss not right that I ssshould make them feel ssso. And they grow very sssad and then they go away and they do not wisssh to be near anymore and when they do their eyesss are very sssad."

Muri smiles and closes her eyes. "Tis not yer doin', me fren," she says gently. "If'n ye don' want, don' feel t'marry den dat's alright. Dey's leavin' and bein' sad's cause de wantin' sumfin de cant's, but ye dinnae make it so." She opens her eyes again and looks up to the pots that are stars. "Ah'm sorry if'n me bein' sad de other night made ye sad. Wern't me intent. And Ah'll not leave ye, if'n ye'll have me as a fren. We still gots pies t'make aye?"

"Yesss. You will sssee sssummer with me?" It's quiet - and then he adds, in perhaps a non-sequitur. "I think you are very nicsse. I do not like thesse noblesss very much. They are not /mean/, but they are very cold."

Muri giggles. "Ah hopes t'see summer wif ye," she says. "Gots t'show ye de green leaves and de summer sky. Didja 'magine dat de stars'll be different den? Some lower, some higher." She pats his arm again. "Ah thin' ye's very nice too. As fer nobles... well dems is gots lots t'worries 'bout, makes dem brains run off in so many ways. Dat's de sadness of bein' noble. Deys got less frens dats has de same troubles, where us, we gots de same troubles mos' times and when we shares dem, well, den we feels better, aye?"

"They do not have to - but they choosse to. And it isss a little sssad." Aeseyri raises his head, and asks, eyes sleepy. "Do you still wisssh to kisss me?"

Muri leans back and blinks. "Kiss ye?" she says. She chuckles, ducking her head and shrugging a shoulder. "Ah thought t'would be nice t' be kissed by ye..." She looks up at him, with his innocence and his eagerness to please. She leans over and gives him a sweet kiss on the forehead. "Light always keep ye, Aeseyri," she says as she draws back. "Thankee fer countin' me fren." She reaches up a hand to stroke his cheek once more. "But Ah haint never seen ye sleepy afore. If'n ye wants t'sleep on me shoulder, Ah'll keep watch o'er ye."

"i would like to kisss you sssometime. Kisssing is nicsse." And he does lean up to kiss her cheek.. and then yes, he snuggles in close again, his head on her shoulder. "I like thisss. You are very warm and it isss not lonely."

Muri smiles and looks up again to the pot stars. "Ah don' evah want ye t'feel lonely," she says. "Ye evah needs me, ye jus' let me know, aye? An' Ah'll do me bes' fer ye." She reaches up to stroke his hair. "Could Ah aks ye somefin?" she says. "Blackfox... is she one dats wants t'marry ye?" There is only kindness in her voice and a bit of curiosity, but no malice or tightness.

"Ssshe wissshesss for sssomeone to be ssspecssial for her." Aes's voice is lazy, fading. "Sssomeone to find little onesss with and who isss /hersss/ - but it isss not the way of Sssyladrisss to have little onesss or familiesss or thesse thingsss. Ssshe isss very ssspecisssal.. but ssshe ssshould be loved asss ssshe wissshesss, yess?"

Muri nods. "Aye, we should all be loved as we wish," she says, softly. "Wot be love t' yer folk, Aeseyri?" She continues to stroke his hair absently, gaze on glittering pots.

"I do not know." Aeseyri sighs, contented at the petting - his tail squeezing just a bit. "Everything isss ssso beautiful - there isss joy in being here, yess? Isss thisss love?"

Muri's lips curve into a half smile watching the constellations of stew pots and frying pans above. "Tis one kind of love," she says. "Or... mebbe a part of love, cause Ah'm thinkin' dat loves like de Light, aye, always round us, but somes places, somes folks it pools more den others. Fer somes it's like a rushin' river, all tumblin and rollin'. Fer ofvers tis more lahk a spring dat a farmer done make hims fields near so's de grows. Mebee dats de kind dats fer marryin'. But dis... dis is lahk de rains dats washes thin's clean and bright. It's a shared thin', lahk ye says beautiful and joyful. Taint have t'be more den dats."

He nods, then - and his eyes go firmly closed. "I will keep you sssafe too." And he squeezes her in a gentle hug - but those words seem more for him than for her.

And at the very edges of vision, so faint as to be a tremulous, quiet thing, there is an argent white - a soft radiance that enfolds them both. Gossamer wings, so ephimerial as to be indistinct - no more than a breath - surround her as surely as his arms and his tail, coming from his back in a soft fall of pure Light.

Muri closes her eyes and leans her head against Aesyeri totally unaware of the Light that surrounds them. "Ah begin t'see how ye sees love," she says quietly. "If'n it makes ye happy t'know Ah'm safe, an' ye knows it makes /me/ happy t'know ye's safe... well den, Ah'd say we share a kind of love, and Light couldn't aks fer more." She sighs happily.

"Isss it alright if I sssleep?" Aes asks that softly, barely audible. "I think I would like to."

Muri nods, her eyes still closed. "Ah'll be here when ye wakes up," she says. "Ye'll feel better'n de morn. Ye rests, now, me sweet fren." She strokes his hair again to help him slip over the threshold to sleep.

A strange sight to the nightwatchman who wanders in to check the fires -- a young woman wrapped gently in the coils of a Syladris softly snoring on her shoulder, both with smiles on their faces.

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