Death In The Tides of Autumn

[Philomel]

He said nothing. He did not even smile in response, mostly because he could not due to his aged accident that had cut his facial muscles.

But he did nod and clasp his hands before him, glad to the depths of the sea and ends of the earth that she was smiling again.

"I am sure you could," he responded, "Very easily. I know that you have some, even."

"Yeah, but women are better," she shrugged, twisting around and strutting over to where she had placed her sword. It stood in a small rack, along with her other instruments of killing and battlefare. Quickly she began to strap them on, all of them, including her dragonhide breastplate. "Always better."

"And where do I stand in all of this?" Vaeron arched an eyebrow, curiously watching her in her new spirits getting ready to go out.

Philomel shrugged. "You are gay. And my best friend. You are different."

[Philomel]

More hope came to the eyes of the older man. He inclined his head again, satisfied that her usual charm and character was returning, rather than the furious anger over the death. Anger, that was of course requited, but could be dealt with a much better way.

With her joking and insulting him, it meant she was brighter and more herself. He did not know well how to handle her as a bubbling idiot full of tears and misery. Though of course she had a right to be, and he could hug her for a while, he did not know if he could do it long term. Personally he had seen and experienced loss, but dealt with it much more silently than most. A life of abandonment by his mother, then father, then church had left the mage, once a paladin, now more of a rogue, without much luck except in that of Philomel van der Aart.

"Right."

He lifted his eyes to look right at her. There she was, strong and dressed, in her limited armour and with weapons adorning. He himself had a dagger that was blessed by his god, and a bow that spoke of many magical things, such as no arrows. Letting his gaze filter over her he paused before waiting for her to continue.

"Right?"

She had taken too long.

[Philomel]

"Right, we are going to sort this," she said.

The mage blinked. "Sort ... this?"

"Yes," she nodded, "Arrange the funeral. Get her god-damned body over here. Ask Drys ... demand to Drys why she was taken so quickly. I mean, she is barely fifty!"

He squinted, "And that is ..."

"Young, for a faun, yes," she rolled her eyes, marching forwards.

She moved past him and he turned to follow her as she started out. He watched her for a while, then shrugged.

"Your race is weird."

"So is yours."

[Philomel]

They moved out of her large-ish room, into the main corridor of the keep. To the other side was a door to Vaeron's own quarters, a long thin plan, perfect for practising his archery, and beyond them other rooms taken by the lieutenants (two, in fact) that Philomel had placed in secondary positions. One was the recently promoted Isa, a guard of great use who had proved her worth after several successful masked raids on Corone Rangers. So irritating were those people in coming too close to the foretress for comfort.

She started towards, and then down, the stairs that led to the lower floor and what had been a court hall. It was now a large mess, with a room off the back dedicated to the goddess who had brought them here. Vaeron knew this was where she was headed after all her frustrated rant.

"Humans live to maybe seventy," he finally said, when they got to the mess.

It was quiet right now, being the middle of the day when all were either at training or lounging around. The few that were there looked up to stare in pity at Philomel as the pair passed. Clearly they had heard the news, and perhaps even how Philomel had reacted with Mina.

"And fauns a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred," she shrugged.

[Philomel]

"That is nice for you."

"But not nice for my mother, who died so young," she hissed, the anger coming back in.

She ignored the melancholic faces looking over to her and shoved her way through the back door that led to the chapel. Vaeron rolled his eyes and waved an absent, pardoning hand to those she basically flipped off.

"I am gay, remember," he muttered, "Ha, ha, make fun of the mage."

She made a brutal face back to him, and then stepped into the room. Vaeron quickly made his usual sign of his god, the rain-star god Earlon of Raiaeran folk and mainly elves, and prayed to him to forgive him before he followed her into what might as well be an interior garden.

[Philomel]

Pot plants aplenty had been brought here and lined the walls. Trees in troughs leant against one another, and a small habitat for flies and frogs coming through a window and the cracks in walls gave life and sense to the place. Boughs and wreaths were fresh and brought in daily. Currently a circlet of roses and evergreen was placed by the main altar, a simple slab of rock that had been dedicated and purposefully blessed by Philomel herself.

She paused, however, and folded her arms to find that the stone slab had already been taken up, with an occupant on its surface. Not that she was going to sit on it, but she had certainly been meaning to make an offering.

Large golden eyes sparkled as they looked up at her and the brush tail flicked.

I heard, Veridian said softly in her mind, And I am sorry.

[Philomel]

Vaeron inwardly sighed and leant against the wall. Another one.

Philomel went off her rocker again.

Slamming a hand onto her other, fist into palm she hissed darkly.

"So young! Taken so early, dammit, why did Drys have to do this?"

Veridian swung to his feet, his brush tail swooping out like a pendulum to get his balance. He did not seem fazed in the slightest by her anger issues. In fact, he was perfectly used to it, having shared her head for most of these years.

Death happens, he said, and stretched before sticking his nose up to her. Scratch behind my ears please, I brought you the branches you like.

Both faun and human looked over to a corner where the fox-form earth spirit gestured with a paw. True enough, stashed in a messy pile and looking like it had been dragged through the sewer and muck were two sets of foliage - one ash, the other white lily.

Took me a while to find the flower. Now, scratch.

[Philomel]

Caught there, she was stunned. Her lips parted as she stared at the very rare flower that she had searched for every time they came to a new place, or so it seemed.

"Lily ..."

Your mother, right? Veridian now pushed his muzzle right into her hand. I did good, now scratch.

Vaeron glanced from one to the other, considering all this, and knowing the importance of the flower to Philomel. It had been her mother's favourite since birth and signified innocence, a thing Philomel often saw taken from so many women, something that angered her so much. It infuriated her, made her want to destroy and maim and kill.

"I uh ... think he wants a pet," he said with a soft cough.

Philomel twisted hurriedly around to him, eyes huge. He paused, then nodded right to Veridian who was impatiently begging for his reward. If it could be called a reward. Really he just liked attention from his beloved, and his ears were a place he could never quite satisfyingly itch.

"Oh ..." Philomel said a little quietly. And quickly she responded.

[Philomel]

Ahhhhh ...

That was it. Very much it. Veridian began to chatter with joy as she thoroughly began to spoil him. He turned his head to the side, forcing her to get just the right spot.

He began to purr like a cat.

My lord Earlon, Vaeron prayed internally, Much have you blessed me in terms of my friends and companions.

Philomel was altogether swiftly reduced in her frustration again when she began to fuss over Veridian. She gave him both hands and started to groom him, nose to tail with pet upon pet and stroke upon stroke. She kissed his nose and told him how much she loved him, and how much she would grieve if he was the one to go, and that she was so pleased he was here, and that now she could smile and that oh my ... how could this happen ...

Tears began to slide down again. Vaeron swiftly walked to stand in front of the door so that it was certain no others would get in, and Veridian actually pulled himself from her grasp.

"Offering," they both said.

[Philomel]

"Ugh," she nodded, and grunted. And moved away before her frustrations got the better of her again and someone else got hurt.

Like her.

Again. She took the two strides to where the ask branch and the white lily lay and took up either in each hand. Veridian wriggled before bouncing off the altar, allowing her access. He trotted back, going to over where Vaeron was. Raising his eyes the fox nodded to the human, and they shared an equal gaze of respect before settling back and letting their mutual friend get on with her duties.

Her duties. Or her venting.

Either worked.