Zi'da 72, 717
"Just a little more to the left, Halit."
"Really, are you sure?" The Biqaj grunted, straining with his end of the piano as they made their way up the stairs, "I don't want to hit the railing and—"
"Sarding listen to me, se'qat. I can see from here." The northern noble hissed from his vantage point farther up the stairs, right arm still in a sling under the dark violet of his velvet coat, "Darcyanna will crush your fingers one at a time if something happens to that piano."
Halit laughed and craned his neck over the side of the small piano, making eye contact with his two friends from the port who held up the bottom end with smiles of their own, speaking to them in Rakahi for a bit or two while they hovered precariously between the first and second floor of the mid-town rental that Caius had managed to hurriedly procure in desperation to find somewhere away from the watchful gaze of their predatory stalker. He knew it wouldn't be for long, that the beast of a woman had watched them far too closely, but at the same time, he could hope to have a bit of a respite anyway. Just a little.
The apartment was within walking distance of the Rynmere Gazette in mid-town, admittedly farther from campus than he would have preferred, but nestled in a quiet neighborhood of other small stone houses. The first floor was one smaller flat while the second and third floors belonged entirely to Caius, who'd wanted to make sure there was enough room for a study as well as a spare bedroom—just in case. Furniture had already arrived, and he'd spent the trial before while the delicate pianist was in class making the rest of the necessary arrangements. It was far bigger than their tiny campus residences combined, and he'd actually worked quite hard to pull everything together in a secretive, exited sort of way, aware that everything about this arrangement was scandalous to say the least, no matter how much he comforted himself with the reminder that it was for their safety. Yes, safety.
The final surprise had been moving her piano to-trial, again while the blonde Venora was in class. He'd left a note and directions, and Lly'en would be around to walk with her, for he no longer allowed either of them to travel alone in Andaris lest Pythera decide to make good on her promises. They'd managed to get the piano across town in a wagon, three Biqaj and the young Gawyne directing them—
"Go open the door, Keys." Halit hissed, Caius' thoughts having wandered for a moment, and the northern noble smirked—chagrined—turning to race up the rest of the stairs to open the door to the apartment proper, holding it for the trio of young men with full uses of all their limbs who still managed to break a sweat so far into the chill of Zi'da. Smudge wagged his nub of a tail eagerly, following the men in desperation to sniff them, to smell the salt of the sea that clung to them all.
Once inside, he directed them into the small study while his little grey dog ran circles around them dangerously, indicating Halit and his burly seafaring friends to set the piano down against the wall with a nervous smile, making the trio shift the sarding thing three or four times with a wave of his left hand until the printer's diri was satisfied with its placement near the desk and the bookshelves. The study was already well-lived in, Caius having strewn the desk with two wood blocks to carve for class, his tools, and several sketches to work from. The shelves were filled with a handful of books from the library for his Research position, a few of them aching to be rebound if he'd had his own equipment. Moving the bench with his good hand to in front of the piano, he nodded contentedly at the arrangement, somewhat pleased with himself. The whole apartment was surprisingly well-lit with even afternoon sun and far less drafty than his little residence on campus.
"Vrelore. Satisfied, my Lord?" The Biqaj-turned-bodyguard was grinning, taunting his friend with a more formal title, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, "I can't believe you didn't tell her about all of this."
"Yes, and I did tell her—some of it. She just hasn't seen it." Caius grinned back but his tone was serious, "We could all sarding use a pleasant surprise for once."
"That's for sure, se'qat."
The northern noble thanked Halit's friends in Rakahi, reaching to pay them, enjoying their softer consonants and the way the vowels rolled differently off of his tongue no matter how basic his grasp of the language was. While the two other Biqaj were eager for their nel, thanking Caius in return, his friend refused, rolling his broad shoulders in a shrug,
"Pay me a salary instead." He winked, insisting his friend make him a permanent employee for the millionth time since he'd returned wounded from Bellesoir, "Write your father and I'll call it even."
"Fine. But for now?" He pressed the two gold nel into the shorter, darker Biqaj's hand, winking, "A deposit. Thank you for all of your help, all the moving. I don't think this would have come together without you, Halit."
"Well, it is the season of giving. Have us over for a meal once you're settled—Lly'en would be happy to cook for all of us, you know."
The young Gawyne smiled warmly, aware of some of the life skills he lacked as a noble, even far from home. He'd have to remedy some of that. Or hire help. He smirked, chagrined at the sudden awareness of his sheltered life while standing before a much more self-sufficient student while the ache in his shoulder reminded him of his other shortcomings,
"I'd appreciate that, too." Caius laughed shyly before waving them all toward the door, "Now, out with you sweaty lot before my Lady Venora comes home."
Home.
He was stupid. This was so sarding stupid. But, for a little while, he could pretend it was safe, even when in the aching, charred scar on his chest, he knew it wasn't. Nowhere was safe—so what was he pretending at? Scandalous disaster, perhaps, but after all that had happened over the past season and a half, Caius was loath to let Darcy be alone ... or to be alone himself.
Once everyone was gone, left with just a very excited Smudge, the young Gawyne wandered into the study to grab a few books off the shelf and settle into the chair at his somewhat crowded desk, pretending to be patient for Lly'en and Darcy to arrive, letting the little grey dog into his lap for some eager licks and ear scratches before distracting himself with some reading.
"Really, are you sure?" The Biqaj grunted, straining with his end of the piano as they made their way up the stairs, "I don't want to hit the railing and—"
"Sarding listen to me, se'qat. I can see from here." The northern noble hissed from his vantage point farther up the stairs, right arm still in a sling under the dark violet of his velvet coat, "Darcyanna will crush your fingers one at a time if something happens to that piano."
Halit laughed and craned his neck over the side of the small piano, making eye contact with his two friends from the port who held up the bottom end with smiles of their own, speaking to them in Rakahi for a bit or two while they hovered precariously between the first and second floor of the mid-town rental that Caius had managed to hurriedly procure in desperation to find somewhere away from the watchful gaze of their predatory stalker. He knew it wouldn't be for long, that the beast of a woman had watched them far too closely, but at the same time, he could hope to have a bit of a respite anyway. Just a little.
The apartment was within walking distance of the Rynmere Gazette in mid-town, admittedly farther from campus than he would have preferred, but nestled in a quiet neighborhood of other small stone houses. The first floor was one smaller flat while the second and third floors belonged entirely to Caius, who'd wanted to make sure there was enough room for a study as well as a spare bedroom—just in case. Furniture had already arrived, and he'd spent the trial before while the delicate pianist was in class making the rest of the necessary arrangements. It was far bigger than their tiny campus residences combined, and he'd actually worked quite hard to pull everything together in a secretive, exited sort of way, aware that everything about this arrangement was scandalous to say the least, no matter how much he comforted himself with the reminder that it was for their safety. Yes, safety.
The final surprise had been moving her piano to-trial, again while the blonde Venora was in class. He'd left a note and directions, and Lly'en would be around to walk with her, for he no longer allowed either of them to travel alone in Andaris lest Pythera decide to make good on her promises. They'd managed to get the piano across town in a wagon, three Biqaj and the young Gawyne directing them—
"Go open the door, Keys." Halit hissed, Caius' thoughts having wandered for a moment, and the northern noble smirked—chagrined—turning to race up the rest of the stairs to open the door to the apartment proper, holding it for the trio of young men with full uses of all their limbs who still managed to break a sweat so far into the chill of Zi'da. Smudge wagged his nub of a tail eagerly, following the men in desperation to sniff them, to smell the salt of the sea that clung to them all.
Once inside, he directed them into the small study while his little grey dog ran circles around them dangerously, indicating Halit and his burly seafaring friends to set the piano down against the wall with a nervous smile, making the trio shift the sarding thing three or four times with a wave of his left hand until the printer's diri was satisfied with its placement near the desk and the bookshelves. The study was already well-lived in, Caius having strewn the desk with two wood blocks to carve for class, his tools, and several sketches to work from. The shelves were filled with a handful of books from the library for his Research position, a few of them aching to be rebound if he'd had his own equipment. Moving the bench with his good hand to in front of the piano, he nodded contentedly at the arrangement, somewhat pleased with himself. The whole apartment was surprisingly well-lit with even afternoon sun and far less drafty than his little residence on campus.
"Vrelore. Satisfied, my Lord?" The Biqaj-turned-bodyguard was grinning, taunting his friend with a more formal title, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, "I can't believe you didn't tell her about all of this."
"Yes, and I did tell her—some of it. She just hasn't seen it." Caius grinned back but his tone was serious, "We could all sarding use a pleasant surprise for once."
"That's for sure, se'qat."
The northern noble thanked Halit's friends in Rakahi, reaching to pay them, enjoying their softer consonants and the way the vowels rolled differently off of his tongue no matter how basic his grasp of the language was. While the two other Biqaj were eager for their nel, thanking Caius in return, his friend refused, rolling his broad shoulders in a shrug,
"Pay me a salary instead." He winked, insisting his friend make him a permanent employee for the millionth time since he'd returned wounded from Bellesoir, "Write your father and I'll call it even."
"Fine. But for now?" He pressed the two gold nel into the shorter, darker Biqaj's hand, winking, "A deposit. Thank you for all of your help, all the moving. I don't think this would have come together without you, Halit."
"Well, it is the season of giving. Have us over for a meal once you're settled—Lly'en would be happy to cook for all of us, you know."
The young Gawyne smiled warmly, aware of some of the life skills he lacked as a noble, even far from home. He'd have to remedy some of that. Or hire help. He smirked, chagrined at the sudden awareness of his sheltered life while standing before a much more self-sufficient student while the ache in his shoulder reminded him of his other shortcomings,
"I'd appreciate that, too." Caius laughed shyly before waving them all toward the door, "Now, out with you sweaty lot before my Lady Venora comes home."
Home.
He was stupid. This was so sarding stupid. But, for a little while, he could pretend it was safe, even when in the aching, charred scar on his chest, he knew it wasn't. Nowhere was safe—so what was he pretending at? Scandalous disaster, perhaps, but after all that had happened over the past season and a half, Caius was loath to let Darcy be alone ... or to be alone himself.
Once everyone was gone, left with just a very excited Smudge, the young Gawyne wandered into the study to grab a few books off the shelf and settle into the chair at his somewhat crowded desk, pretending to be patient for Lly'en and Darcy to arrive, letting the little grey dog into his lap for some eager licks and ear scratches before distracting himself with some reading.
Ledger
Our rental agreement is here. Caius and Darcy are splitting the cost, but Caius has paid for Zi'da (-13gn 95sn) entirely. They have split furniture costs, so Caius' half is a whopping -412gn 81sn (yeah, we spent quite a bit there LOL). The piano is part of Darcy's SP. Everything is in our ledgers.
Oh, yeah, and -6gn for paying the Biqaj moving company. LOL
Oh, yeah, and -6gn for paying the Biqaj moving company. LOL
❦