[Dohalim has found himself becoming used to the idea of venturing to other worlds rather quickly out of necessity. Each key their party happened upon seemed to lead to yet another, though what they were able to explore of each seemed to be rather limited.
This one, however, was different. It was not a cave or a forest he found himself in this time, but open fields and cliffs looking over a prosperous harbor town. There were people here— many of them, which was also a distinct difference from his previous trips through the gate. The most noticeable difference of all, of course, was that his companions where nowhere to be found.
Troublesome, that.
He ventures into Liyue Harbor on his own, managing to pick up its name in passing from the chatter of the crowds around him, and he cannot recall ever seeing a city so lively. It reminded him fondly of Viscint, in its way, for it had far too much natural life about it to be compared to Lenegis, and the thought alone makes him homesick for a place he's not entirely sure he truly can call his home.
His wandering is cautious. He asks questions, here and there, about where he's found himself, piecing things together as he goes with an almost startling level of calm for someone in his situation. Eventually, he finds himself at the counter of a small restaurant that smells simply too divine to walk past, and it's only when he's asked to pay for his order that he reaches for his purse and pales, slightly.]
Ah, my apologies. Do you accept gald?
[The man behind the counter gives a heavy sigh, calling back over his shoulder to someone. "We got another one! I swear, who doesn't carry Mora in Liyue?"
It was by mere chance that he caught a glimpse of the stranger in the crowd around the docks, his manner of dress quite unlike anything even Zhongli had encountered in his very long life. That alone might not have been enough to catch his attention, but there was also a sense of⦠otherness about him. The same sort of aura that hung about the Traveler, a visitor from another world, followed this man around like wisps of fine smoke.
Zhongli would hardly consider such a person to be his responsibility - he was no longer the guardian of this land - but curiosity drove him to follow anyway. Just as well that he did, for the man soon finds himself in a rather sticky situation. (βGaldβ was it?)
He steps up to the counter, offering a polite nod to the man working - Zhongli himself is a regular here, and the recognition is instant. ]
Please, put it on my tab. I will have the usual, as well.
[ βOh, Mister Zhongli! Is this a friend of yours? I didnβt realizeβ¦β Zhongli simply waves off the concern, as if to say βno harm doneβ.
He then turns to the stranger and motions to the seating area. ]
[It is a surprising display of kindness that he would not have thought to ask as a favor, but is more than happy to accept. Surprise is writ in his expression for a brief moment before it smooths out into something more gracious, and he dips his head in deference.]
You have my thanks— I'm afraid I've found myself quite ill-prepared for extensive travel.
[Just how extensive, he does not say; perhaps it's fortunate that Zhongli hardly needs to be told. He follows the other gentleman's gesture, walking towards the small array of tables with a grace that perhaps seems a touch out of place on someone who had nearly just been turned away for being short of funds.]
You are very kind, to go out of your way for a stranger.
[Amber grins up at her companion as she speaks the words, a proclamation she makes with pride. She's perhaps a bit biased (or really, really biased), but she can think of no better place in Teyvat to welcome people from near and far. The Traveler started their journey here, after all, and in the few hours that have passed since she found Dohalim she has decided that it's going to be very much his speed.
As they pass through the gate--the guards only slightly side-eyeing her for bringing yet another random stranger to the city--she turns on her heels and beams.]
[His first thought upon seeing the city itself is that it is undeniably charming. He wonders if it might echo how Niez had looked in its best days, the windmills looming overhead immediately invoking thoughts of Dahna's own wind realm, and he offers his young tour guide a polite but easy smile in response.]
As warm and welcoming a city as I've ever seen.
[His own city of Viscint aside, those were few and far between where he comes from— and even then, it had hardly been so before he'd taken charge.]
There is music in the air.
[He makes this observation with a note of approval; several strains of bardsong are being carried across the wind from various corners, and he lifts a hand to rest over his heart.]
That so many would bare their souls so openly is quite beautiful.
[Oh, did she guess correctly. He's even more enamored with what he sees than she thought he'd be!]
I'm a bit biased, since I've always lived here, but I think it's pretty great too.
[Amber is many things. "Poetic" is not among them. But she's got the spirit, and that counts for something!]
As Outrider with the Knights of Favonius, it's my responsibility to show you around and make sure you're well taken care of. And if we're not caught, I have something to show you when we get to the topmost part of the city.
[Is she planning to take him gliding? Of course she's planning to take him gliding. It'll be worth risking her license (again) just to see the look on his face, she bets.]
Anyway, right here through this center corridor is our marketplace. We have basically anything you'd need, from blacksmithing to flowers to souvenirs, and--of course--places to eat and drink. Remind me to treat you to dinner at the Good Hunter after the tour.
[Consider him intrigued. He should probably be concerned that she's suggesting something that may well be frowned-upon, but he doesn't seem to be. Curiosity, as ever, wins out. It was one thing to discover artifacts to learn more about the world he lived in— thrilling in its own right, a passion he had pursued for years and would continue to do so as long as he was able, but to have an entirely new world to learn about was something else entirely. How much time he has here, he cannot know, but he should like to make the most of it.
He follows along with a smooth and steady gait, his expression alight with interest as he takes in the sights.]
I see Monstadt is quite lively. The people here seem to go about their work happily— a blessing many do not have the opportunity to experience.
I wonder, would it be possible to set aside the time for a trip to Menancia in the near future? Not only you, mind. I should very much like to have everyone reconvene in Viscint, when it is convenient to do so. We've all been busy with our own projects for well over a month now. I've found I rather miss eating dinner in everyone's company.
The time has flown past swiftly, owed in no small part to how busy we've all kept ourselves, but the loss of companionship has left something of an ache behind.
Unfortunately, collecting is currently on hold. The civil matters here in Viscint have taken precedence.
[ There were more than a few whispers and gossiping that happened as soon as Vayne indicated that he would be visiting another lord's land -- especially whilst the contest was still ongoing. It certainly was not the precedent, and more than a few Renans felt it was unbecoming at best.
However, he had good reason to meet with Dohalim.
Vayne was chosen after the murder of his two brothers. He knew that when next the contest would happen, it would be Larsa that would be forced to join in with the selection. What a farce. Like his little brother would be capable of doing anything in such a bloodsport. That was why he decided that the contest had to be destroyed in his time, during his reign.
His reports told him that he might not have to destroy Dohalim in order to achieve his goals. He may be able to convince the man to help him, so that the two of them could finally end this nonsense once and for all. They could return order and control back into the hands of those enslaved, and free their own people from the tyranny that they lived daily.
Lofty goals, for certain, but there was no time to dally.
So, he arrives at the castle gate -- with a modest guard "protecting" him. Vayne paused before he dropped his head low in reverence to the lord in front of him. There are some small gasps heard beneath the masks of the soldiers at his side, but otherwise, everyone became very still. ]
I thank you for being willing to meet with me, Lord Dohalim. I apologize for any upset this may have caused.
[He has heard rumors about Lord Vayne in the past, just as he has heard rumors about every other lord— those participating in the Crown Contest, surely, but even those hopefuls who had been left behind on Lenegis, deigned unfit to compete, and those who might pursue a spot when the next round began some years down the line. Rumors were, indeed, always flying among the nobility, but Dohalim has always and ever done his best to take such things with several grains of salt, whenever possible.
If even half the vicious words that were whispered among the nobility were true, then Lenegis would well and truly be nothing more than a pit of vipers. This, he refuses to believe.
The Vayne that appears before him is polite, collected. He leans on etiquette, and seems far more relatable than many of their contemporaries, rare though his opportunities to meet with them have been. As he bows, Dohalim dips his own head in greeting, a show of respect in turn, and there's a quiet murmur among some of armored soldiers at his back.]
Please, you need not bow to me, Lord Vayne. You are a guest in my home— I would have us speak with one another as equals.
[That is, after all, the reputation he has built for himself these past few years. Equality in all things, though he knows there are many who disagree with his approach.]
[ Vayne repeats those words with the gravity that they deserve. It is a simple request, for certain, from Dohalim but it also holds a lot of meaning. The knights that are listening; the people that are straining their ears -- both Dahnans and Renan alike.
He does not know what the lord thinks of their world, but he sees it little more than a festering sore that has gone untreated for too long. Every action, every word, has to be carefully chosen lest weakness be found and exploited. ]
It would be improper of me to go against your wish in your own land. A land that has flourished and offered beauty to both of its people through its equality. Indeed, I will do as you ask -- we are as equals here.
[ So, he straightens his back and steps forward with his hand outstretched to shake Dohalim's. ]
I knew I was right to come here. [ A slight pause passes. ] Shall we go in to talk some more on equality?
I believe we'll both have a much more pleasant meeting for it.
[They're both already like to be busy with analyzing one another, trying to see through to the other's true motives— even when speaking as equals, there is no telling what another's true agenda may be, and lordship often seems to be an endless game of dodging political machinations.
He inclines his head and steps to one side, gesturing towards the large set of double doors ahead of them, his guards fanning out as two step forward to hold them open.]
Please, right this way. Let's go somewhere more comfortable.
[It was one of those blessed rare nights when the group managed to sleep in an inn, instead of camping outside. Granted, Law enjoyed camping, how could he not? Sitting around a campfire, having a good time with his comrades, all of them laughing and enjoying each other's company as they enjoyed a good meal...
...But it was hard to deny the grandeur of having a roof over your head, a mattress under your body, and a pot to piss in. It's moments like that which made things seem slightly less bleak, even as they fought to change the system their very world operated on.
Speaking of the pot, it's what prompts Law to stir in the middle of the night, dragging himself out of bed and to the water-closet. He goes about his business unimpeded, but it's only on his way back to bed that he notices he wasn't the only one awake, as he spies Dohalim sitting at the desk, seemingly pouring all his attention over something. What in the world was he doing...? Lord work? Or research? He better not be obsessing over his artifacts again...!!]
Kisara's never gonna let you hear the end of it if she finds out you stayed up all night, y'know.
[The opportunity to sleep at an inn was all too rare these days, but Dohalim finds himself especially grateful for them when they come— while he has made an effort to keep his complaints with regards to camping to an absolute minimum as he continues to adjust to a more rustic way of life. In many ways, he's made great strides, but he's still glad for the chance to sleep in a real bed when it comes, which makes it all the more strange that he's up.
He looks up from the document he'd been looking over, which appears to be a ledger of some sort.]
Law— I don't intend to be up all night, but I've had a few things on my mind. Kisara need never know.
[He'd never dream of it. Bros before hos or something like that, he'd never think of betraying someone's trust. ...Plus it'll somehow be his fault if he tattles anyway. He knows a bad idea when he sees it.
Law peers briefly at the document in Dohalim's hands.]
A ledger? You looking over our finances? [Maybe he should tell Kisara... Lest Dohalim spend half their savings on another artifact...]
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Kisara has thought it many times when she's looked at him. She thinks back to days of pastel colours, flowers, and smiling faces. On that day, standing next to him, hair pulled up, she can recall sneaking the occasional glance in his direction. Gauging his response to the day. To the celebration that fell between Shionne and Alphen, something that she's sure most of them had seen coming miles away.
Those nights around the fire linger with her. Every step they'd all taken to get to precisely where they were. All of it, culminating to that one moment. It was difficult that day to look at the entire portrait and not wonder where her own future is. Had Alphen and the others never arrived, Kisara realises that still she would be serving Dohalim with little question. At his side where she believes she has belonged in one fashion or another.
Now they all go their different ways with their different lives, their different desires. What place does she have? Where should she be? Where does she want to be? What kind of life does she want to leave when she has the freedom to make that kind of decision for herself? Even when she's not in armour, swinging around her mace and shield, reality's weight sits atop her shoulders and feels just as heavy. Just as cumbersome, if not more so.
She's chosen to stay close to him. She may no longer serve him, but he remains a sense of familiarity and in his presence, she feels stability and comfort. Something that ties her to the present and to the past. Something that fills her with both agony and with joy. It's a conflicting place to stand, but a place she doesn't care to leave.
Kisara finds him on a nondescript afternoon of clear sky accented by occasional cloud, outside. Away from the people of Viscint. A rare moment's quiet from a past that he cannot escape from either. She watches him from afar, her posture tall and attentive. She admires him, in her own quiet way, reflecting on words they've exchanged on the rare, charged occasion. Moments where Kisara has not always known what to say or how to respond, thinking the lines of their position too blurred to properly cross, despite how 'devotion' may not have such a simple or singular definition.
What kind of future does Dohalim want? What does he see in his own? Does he ever think about it? Did he think about it on the day that he witnessed Shionne and Alphen proclaim their desire to be with one another?
Her questions linger in the mind, a slow pace bringing her closer to what she can only describe as a pensive man. Questions she cannot bring herself to ask him, for though they have grown apart from their roles, still they sometimes wear them. Such chains are not easy ones to escape from.
In hindsight, resigning from his station all those months ago had seemed far easier in theory than it had turned out to be in practice. The truth was, the people of Viscint still needed a guiding hand, still wanted and expected to be lead, and so despite his insistence that he no longer be addressed by his former title, Dohalim had found himself in a position not entirely unlike his previous one.
It was something of a struggle, trying to keep the present separate from the past. Old habits were hard to break, for his people as well as himself, but he was insistent on working alongside those who sought guidance, determined that the current state of things be markedly different than they once were. The lines were still blurred in places; people still slipped and used his old title, he still slipped and found himself blindsided whenever someone actually voiced their disagreement with one of his ideas, but through concentrated effort, they were forging their way ahead, together.
Kisara's presence helped, whether she realized it or not. He was ever grateful to have a friend nearby, a constant reminder that change was quite possible— that there was a way to move forward as a people and that peaceful coexistence was a dream worth pursuing and had not been a temporary falsehood. She, herself, was proof that what Viscint had managed was real, even if it was flawed. Forgiveness was possible. Peace was possible.
But, admittedly, it was going to be a long road. Lasting change was never simple.
It's the sound of her armor behind him that gives him away, and he offers a smile as he turns to look back over his shoulder. He would know her footfalls anywhere.
She pauses the moment that his eyes find her. She can expect no less. It doesn't seem to matter how quiet she tries to be or inconspicuous. Dohalim always knows. Perhaps that is to be anticipated, given the bond they share. No one's asked her what she thinks of it, but it's hard to deny that it's there. In one way or another, entirely of her own desire, she's continued to tie herself to him. However he might need her. It's all very open-ended. Undying. Unconditional. Still, she plays the part of guard. Still, he plays the part of lord.
...Will either of them ever be free?
At his address, she finds herself stiffening, wearing a professionalism to hide herself behind.
"Is there something afoot?" she asks curiously, realising she didn't take note of anything in particular.
If she tries to say she's been adamantly paying attention to her surroundings, that would be a lie. Dohalim has been on her mind, perhaps more than he usually is, and serves as a proper distraction where she ordinarily would describe herself as attentive.
"I must have kept you waiting," she finally decides with the barest hint of a frown in her features. "I should have come here sooner. I wasβ" Well. Distracted. And she can't exactly admit to that. He wouldn't understand, she's sure. "βoccupied."
[ They saved the world. They had earned their happy endings.
That didn't mean that the world didn't keep on turning thereafter. And said heroes still had tasks awaiting them, even ones that they hadn't been anticipating. Defeating the Lords wouldn't fixed everything with the snap of a finger, the party had known that from the first, but almost a year later, Rinwell couldn't believe how much work continued to land in everyone's laps.
Cooling her heels outside the office reserved for the diplomatic corps of Lenegis (rather conveniently assigned to a certain former Lord's old private suite within the palace), Rinwell lightly rubbed at the feathered belly of her companion as Hootle napped on her shoulder. It was almost funny (almost) that she had to deliberately schedule time to even see Dohalim these days, assuming she could catch him when they were both available AND both in the same city. And that still didn't stop other meetings overrunning!
Still, eventually, his previous visitors file out of his suite, and Hootle blinks away, hooting sleepily as the harried looking attendant comes over. At least Rinwell is a very familiar face in Viscint, and there's no verbal reprisals for having to wait, for which the poor man looks especially grateful. Gathering up several items along with a large wooden box into her arms, she's led over to the door, where she peers around the burden in her arms with a hopeful smile. And a teasing remark, from one budding Dahnan archaeologist to another. ]
You know, I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me!
shows up a month later with starbucks, RL didn't have to go as hard as it did v.v
[Dohalim was, in many ways, rather fortunate that his previous position of lord allowed him some degree of privilege when it came to adapting to his new role and all the responsibilities that came along with it— being able to work out of the palace in Viscint, for one, allowed him some familiarity, despite the fact that much of it had been converted to public offices and archives. It wasn't quite home anymore, but near enough, and he was eager to see what it would become moving forward, what the people of Elde Menancia would make of their realm now that it was entirely under their control.
All of his optimism, however, does not change the fact that the amount of work he's continued to find himself faced with is nothing short of exhausting, and he looks just about as worse for wear as his attendant when Rinwell enters— that is, until he actually hears what passes for a greeting and noticeably brightens.]
I do hope you didn't entertain that thought seriously.
[He offers her a warm (if weary) smile, pushing the paperwork he'd been reviewing a few inches forward on his desk with the intent to set it aside for later.]
You're looking quite well— I've been so busy, I'd almost forgotten we had an appointment.
[Almost. Rest assured, he's been looking forward to it.]
it sure didn't, why is this time of year so cursed??
Fortunately for you, I didn't. [Her eyes twinkle a bit as Rinwell makes her way into the room proper] Law got bored, though. He headed over to the training grounds again.
[ Balancing her burden just long enough to set it on the meeting table in the middle of the room. One scroll attempts to roll away off the lid of that oh-so-interesting box before Hootle hops down from her shoulder and pins it, and he gets a head scritch in thanks before the Dahnan girl turns back to her friend. ]
Don't tell Shionne, but I think I really missed camping. But only sometimes! You'd be amazed how cold it gets in some of the ruins at night. [don't think she doesn't see how tired you are, however; she can't help but eye him critically] I'm surprised Kisara isn't here enforcing breaks for you. Or at least helping you find more assistants to deal with the paperwork.
[ Then, shyly, she steps towards the desk, extending her arms slowly in offer of a hug. Once, such a thing would have been unthinkable to her; it was hard enough as a Cyslodian to trust other Dahnans and show physical affection - and to a Renan? Never. Never ever. Oh, how far she, and the world, have come for the better since those very dark times. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
idk gimme anything
WINGIN' IT we in Teyvat
This one, however, was different. It was not a cave or a forest he found himself in this time, but open fields and cliffs looking over a prosperous harbor town. There were people here— many of them, which was also a distinct difference from his previous trips through the gate. The most noticeable difference of all, of course, was that his companions where nowhere to be found.
Troublesome, that.
He ventures into Liyue Harbor on his own, managing to pick up its name in passing from the chatter of the crowds around him, and he cannot recall ever seeing a city so lively. It reminded him fondly of Viscint, in its way, for it had far too much natural life about it to be compared to Lenegis, and the thought alone makes him homesick for a place he's not entirely sure he truly can call his home.
His wandering is cautious. He asks questions, here and there, about where he's found himself, piecing things together as he goes with an almost startling level of calm for someone in his situation. Eventually, he finds himself at the counter of a small restaurant that smells simply too divine to walk past, and it's only when he's asked to pay for his order that he reaches for his purse and pales, slightly.]
Ah, my apologies. Do you accept gald?
[The man behind the counter gives a heavy sigh, calling back over his shoulder to someone. "We got another one! I swear, who doesn't carry Mora in Liyue?"
Who, indeed.]
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It was by mere chance that he caught a glimpse of the stranger in the crowd around the docks, his manner of dress quite unlike anything even Zhongli had encountered in his very long life. That alone might not have been enough to catch his attention, but there was also a sense of⦠otherness about him. The same sort of aura that hung about the Traveler, a visitor from another world, followed this man around like wisps of fine smoke.
Zhongli would hardly consider such a person to be his responsibility - he was no longer the guardian of this land - but curiosity drove him to follow anyway. Just as well that he did, for the man soon finds himself in a rather sticky situation. (βGaldβ was it?)
He steps up to the counter, offering a polite nod to the man working - Zhongli himself is a regular here, and the recognition is instant. ]
Please, put it on my tab. I will have the usual, as well.
[ βOh, Mister Zhongli! Is this a friend of yours? I didnβt realizeβ¦β Zhongli simply waves off the concern, as if to say βno harm doneβ.
He then turns to the stranger and motions to the seating area. ]
Come. Shall we sit?
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You have my thanks— I'm afraid I've found myself quite ill-prepared for extensive travel.
[Just how extensive, he does not say; perhaps it's fortunate that Zhongli hardly needs to be told. He follows the other gentleman's gesture, walking towards the small array of tables with a grace that perhaps seems a touch out of place on someone who had nearly just been turned away for being short of funds.]
You are very kind, to go out of your way for a stranger.
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chisels this out of the stone but also feel free to ignore
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"Welcome to the City of Freedom: Mondstadt!"
[Amber grins up at her companion as she speaks the words, a proclamation she makes with pride. She's perhaps a bit biased (or really, really biased), but she can think of no better place in Teyvat to welcome people from near and far. The Traveler started their journey here, after all, and in the few hours that have passed since she found Dohalim she has decided that it's going to be very much his speed.
As they pass through the gate--the guards only slightly side-eyeing her for bringing yet another random stranger to the city--she turns on her heels and beams.]
So, what do you think?
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As warm and welcoming a city as I've ever seen.
[His own city of Viscint aside, those were few and far between where he comes from— and even then, it had hardly been so before he'd taken charge.]
There is music in the air.
[He makes this observation with a note of approval; several strains of bardsong are being carried across the wind from various corners, and he lifts a hand to rest over his heart.]
That so many would bare their souls so openly is quite beautiful.
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I'm a bit biased, since I've always lived here, but I think it's pretty great too.
[Amber is many things. "Poetic" is not among them. But she's got the spirit, and that counts for something!]
As Outrider with the Knights of Favonius, it's my responsibility to show you around and make sure you're well taken care of. And if we're not caught, I have something to show you when we get to the topmost part of the city.
[Is she planning to take him gliding? Of course she's planning to take him gliding. It'll be worth risking her license (again) just to see the look on his face, she bets.]
Anyway, right here through this center corridor is our marketplace. We have basically anything you'd need, from blacksmithing to flowers to souvenirs, and--of course--places to eat and drink. Remind me to treat you to dinner at the Good Hunter after the tour.
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[Consider him intrigued. He should probably be concerned that she's suggesting something that may well be frowned-upon, but he doesn't seem to be. Curiosity, as ever, wins out. It was one thing to discover artifacts to learn more about the world he lived in— thrilling in its own right, a passion he had pursued for years and would continue to do so as long as he was able, but to have an entirely new world to learn about was something else entirely. How much time he has here, he cannot know, but he should like to make the most of it.
He follows along with a smooth and steady gait, his expression alight with interest as he takes in the sights.]
I see Monstadt is quite lively. The people here seem to go about their work happily— a blessing many do not have the opportunity to experience.
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this is so old I apologize, feel free to ignore if it is too dusty!
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I AM HERE FOR VOICE TESTING
whoop okay, chill texting it is for now! idk, sometime post-game, they have this kind of tech
Not only you, mind. I should very much like to have everyone reconvene in Viscint, when it is convenient to do so. We've all been busy with our own projects for well over a month now.
I've found I rather miss eating dinner in everyone's company.
THIS WORKS
That sounds like a great idea. I'll pass the message to Shionne. How's your project coming along? Any luck with your collection of antiques?
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Unfortunately, collecting is currently on hold. The civil matters here in Viscint have taken precedence.
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still in the beginning of toa but here we go!!
However, he had good reason to meet with Dohalim.
Vayne was chosen after the murder of his two brothers. He knew that when next the contest would happen, it would be Larsa that would be forced to join in with the selection. What a farce. Like his little brother would be capable of doing anything in such a bloodsport. That was why he decided that the contest had to be destroyed in his time, during his reign.
His reports told him that he might not have to destroy Dohalim in order to achieve his goals. He may be able to convince the man to help him, so that the two of them could finally end this nonsense once and for all. They could return order and control back into the hands of those enslaved, and free their own people from the tyranny that they lived daily.
Lofty goals, for certain, but there was no time to dally.
So, he arrives at the castle gate -- with a modest guard "protecting" him. Vayne paused before he dropped his head low in reverence to the lord in front of him. There are some small gasps heard beneath the masks of the soldiers at his side, but otherwise, everyone became very still. ]
I thank you for being willing to meet with me, Lord Dohalim. I apologize for any upset this may have caused.
vayne is perfect lord material I love this!
If even half the vicious words that were whispered among the nobility were true, then Lenegis would well and truly be nothing more than a pit of vipers. This, he refuses to believe.
The Vayne that appears before him is polite, collected. He leans on etiquette, and seems far more relatable than many of their contemporaries, rare though his opportunities to meet with them have been. As he bows, Dohalim dips his own head in greeting, a show of respect in turn, and there's a quiet murmur among some of armored soldiers at his back.]
Please, you need not bow to me, Lord Vayne. You are a guest in my home— I would have us speak with one another as equals.
[That is, after all, the reputation he has built for himself these past few years. Equality in all things, though he knows there are many who disagree with his approach.]
SPARKLES!! i'm so glad
[ Vayne repeats those words with the gravity that they deserve. It is a simple request, for certain, from Dohalim but it also holds a lot of meaning. The knights that are listening; the people that are straining their ears -- both Dahnans and Renan alike.
He does not know what the lord thinks of their world, but he sees it little more than a festering sore that has gone untreated for too long. Every action, every word, has to be carefully chosen lest weakness be found and exploited. ]
It would be improper of me to go against your wish in your own land. A land that has flourished and offered beauty to both of its people through its equality. Indeed, I will do as you ask -- we are as equals here.
[ So, he straightens his back and steps forward with his hand outstretched to shake Dohalim's. ]
I knew I was right to come here. [ A slight pause passes. ] Shall we go in to talk some more on equality?
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[They're both already like to be busy with analyzing one another, trying to see through to the other's true motives— even when speaking as equals, there is no telling what another's true agenda may be, and lordship often seems to be an endless game of dodging political machinations.
He inclines his head and steps to one side, gesturing towards the large set of double doors ahead of them, his guards fanning out as two step forward to hold them open.]
Please, right this way. Let's go somewhere more comfortable.
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well okay if you insist
...But it was hard to deny the grandeur of having a roof over your head, a mattress under your body, and a pot to piss in. It's moments like that which made things seem slightly less bleak, even as they fought to change the system their very world operated on.
Speaking of the pot, it's what prompts Law to stir in the middle of the night, dragging himself out of bed and to the water-closet. He goes about his business unimpeded, but it's only on his way back to bed that he notices he wasn't the only one awake, as he spies Dohalim sitting at the desk, seemingly pouring all his attention over something. What in the world was he doing...? Lord work? Or research? He better not be obsessing over his artifacts again...!!]
Kisara's never gonna let you hear the end of it if she finds out you stayed up all night, y'know.
and I do!
He looks up from the document he'd been looking over, which appears to be a ledger of some sort.]
Law— I don't intend to be up all night, but I've had a few things on my mind. Kisara need never know.
[Unless you tell her.]
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Law peers briefly at the document in Dohalim's hands.]
A ledger? You looking over our finances? [Maybe he should tell Kisara... Lest Dohalim spend half their savings on another artifact...]
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The PSL that may possibly lead to domestic blissβor something
Those nights around the fire linger with her. Every step they'd all taken to get to precisely where they were. All of it, culminating to that one moment. It was difficult that day to look at the entire portrait and not wonder where her own future is. Had Alphen and the others never arrived, Kisara realises that still she would be serving Dohalim with little question. At his side where she believes she has belonged in one fashion or another.
Now they all go their different ways with their different lives, their different desires. What place does she have? Where should she be? Where does she want to be? What kind of life does she want to leave when she has the freedom to make that kind of decision for herself? Even when she's not in armour, swinging around her mace and shield, reality's weight sits atop her shoulders and feels just as heavy. Just as cumbersome, if not more so.
She's chosen to stay close to him. She may no longer serve him, but he remains a sense of familiarity and in his presence, she feels stability and comfort. Something that ties her to the present and to the past. Something that fills her with both agony and with joy. It's a conflicting place to stand, but a place she doesn't care to leave.
Kisara finds him on a nondescript afternoon of clear sky accented by occasional cloud, outside. Away from the people of Viscint. A rare moment's quiet from a past that he cannot escape from either. She watches him from afar, her posture tall and attentive. She admires him, in her own quiet way, reflecting on words they've exchanged on the rare, charged occasion. Moments where Kisara has not always known what to say or how to respond, thinking the lines of their position too blurred to properly cross, despite how 'devotion' may not have such a simple or singular definition.
What kind of future does Dohalim want? What does he see in his own? Does he ever think about it? Did he think about it on the day that he witnessed Shionne and Alphen proclaim their desire to be with one another?
Her questions linger in the mind, a slow pace bringing her closer to what she can only describe as a pensive man. Questions she cannot bring herself to ask him, for though they have grown apart from their roles, still they sometimes wear them. Such chains are not easy ones to escape from.
I am READY
It was something of a struggle, trying to keep the present separate from the past. Old habits were hard to break, for his people as well as himself, but he was insistent on working alongside those who sought guidance, determined that the current state of things be markedly different than they once were. The lines were still blurred in places; people still slipped and used his old title, he still slipped and found himself blindsided whenever someone actually voiced their disagreement with one of his ideas, but through concentrated effort, they were forging their way ahead, together.
Kisara's presence helped, whether she realized it or not. He was ever grateful to have a friend nearby, a constant reminder that change was quite possible— that there was a way to move forward as a people and that peaceful coexistence was a dream worth pursuing and had not been a temporary falsehood. She, herself, was proof that what Viscint had managed was real, even if it was flawed. Forgiveness was possible. Peace was possible.
But, admittedly, it was going to be a long road. Lasting change was never simple.
It's the sound of her armor behind him that gives him away, and he offers a smile as he turns to look back over his shoulder. He would know her footfalls anywhere.
"I was wondering when I might see you today."
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...Will either of them ever be free?
At his address, she finds herself stiffening, wearing a professionalism to hide herself behind.
"Is there something afoot?" she asks curiously, realising she didn't take note of anything in particular.
If she tries to say she's been adamantly paying attention to her surroundings, that would be a lie. Dohalim has been on her mind, perhaps more than he usually is, and serves as a proper distraction where she ordinarily would describe herself as attentive.
"I must have kept you waiting," she finally decides with the barest hint of a frown in her features. "I should have come here sooner. I wasβ" Well. Distracted. And she can't exactly admit to that. He wouldn't understand, she's sure. "βoccupied."
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KICKS IN THE DOOR, THIS TOOK FOREVER IM SO SORRY (spoilers for ToArise, post-ending)
That didn't mean that the world didn't keep on turning thereafter. And said heroes still had tasks awaiting them, even ones that they hadn't been anticipating. Defeating the Lords wouldn't fixed everything with the snap of a finger, the party had known that from the first, but almost a year later, Rinwell couldn't believe how much work continued to land in everyone's laps.
Cooling her heels outside the office reserved for the diplomatic corps of Lenegis (rather conveniently assigned to a certain former Lord's old private suite within the palace), Rinwell lightly rubbed at the feathered belly of her companion as Hootle napped on her shoulder. It was almost funny (almost) that she had to deliberately schedule time to even see Dohalim these days, assuming she could catch him when they were both available AND both in the same city. And that still didn't stop other meetings overrunning!
Still, eventually, his previous visitors file out of his suite, and Hootle blinks away, hooting sleepily as the harried looking attendant comes over. At least Rinwell is a very familiar face in Viscint, and there's no verbal reprisals for having to wait, for which the poor man looks especially grateful. Gathering up several items along with a large wooden box into her arms, she's led over to the door, where she peers around the burden in her arms with a hopeful smile. And a teasing remark, from one budding Dahnan archaeologist to another. ]
You know, I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me!
shows up a month later with starbucks, RL didn't have to go as hard as it did v.v
All of his optimism, however, does not change the fact that the amount of work he's continued to find himself faced with is nothing short of exhausting, and he looks just about as worse for wear as his attendant when Rinwell enters— that is, until he actually hears what passes for a greeting and noticeably brightens.]
I do hope you didn't entertain that thought seriously.
[He offers her a warm (if weary) smile, pushing the paperwork he'd been reviewing a few inches forward on his desk with the intent to set it aside for later.]
You're looking quite well— I've been so busy, I'd almost forgotten we had an appointment.
[Almost. Rest assured, he's been looking forward to it.]
it sure didn't, why is this time of year so cursed??
[ Balancing her burden just long enough to set it on the meeting table in the middle of the room. One scroll attempts to roll away off the lid of that oh-so-interesting box before Hootle hops down from her shoulder and pins it, and he gets a head scritch in thanks before the Dahnan girl turns back to her friend. ]
Don't tell Shionne, but I think I really missed camping. But only sometimes! You'd be amazed how cold it gets in some of the ruins at night. [don't think she doesn't see how tired you are, however; she can't help but eye him critically] I'm surprised Kisara isn't here enforcing breaks for you. Or at least helping you find more assistants to deal with the paperwork.
[ Then, shyly, she steps towards the desk, extending her arms slowly in offer of a hug. Once, such a thing would have been unthinkable to her; it was hard enough as a Cyslodian to trust other Dahnans and show physical affection - and to a Renan? Never. Never ever. Oh, how far she, and the world, have come for the better since those very dark times. ]
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