The obnoxiously bright flair in all sorts of violet (violent?!) shades was not going to dissipate until she finally acknowledged its source. And, while she had no desire for any exchange unless it was the DoorSmash delivery from the Grove’s finest salad bar, at least her children would be spared from the thunder-like flashes of strobe mesmer lights.
With just enough trepidation, she approached the narrow balcony. Her left hand rested on the wrought-iron surface as dainty fingers tapped on the cool metal, tiny lilac-colored light sparks emitting off her lacquered nails. Lifting her right hand, a glowing lavender orb forming over her palm, she beckoned for the fellow mesmer hoodlum to teleport next to her, whispering, “You better have some Wintersday gifts to deliver if you’re going to bother me on my holiday vacation. It’s not every day a girl gets to leave Olivia’s Refuge and bask in cherry blossom-covered, snow-capped norn territory.”
The tired chronomancer grimaced in annoyance before porting a floor above, landing close enough to brush against Lux’s wool white robe. She took a subtle but quick step back.
“No gifts. Just questions. And that’s a lie. You take more vacations than Queen Jennah’s shoes.” HIs voice was as gravely as usual, even though smoking was no longer a part of his undesirable repertoire –new lungs and all. The cynicism and dry humor were ever present. Some things just never change. “They asleep?”
By ‘they’ Lux understood he meant her children, who were vacationing with her in a luxurious chalet off the nearest waterfront snowy peak in Timberline Falls. Winter wonderland’s splendor was a long-standing yearly treat, one she thought was well-deserved after settling in a desert shangri-la for freedom and autonomy. What’s the Larkspur and Rossi fortune worth if not to splurge on extravagant holidays, right? (Meanwhile, the growing woes of the Zephyrite and post-Scarlet Briar Lion’s Arch attack refugees in Olivia’s Refuge need attention, but it’s Wintersday vacation. Entitlement is a privilege, or vice versa.)
“They’re asleep, and you’re intruding. Why are you here at this time, Aiden? The moon is annoyed that your paleness is outshining her. She’s already competing with the snow.”
“Couldn’t sleep.” He opted to ignore her dramatic but brief diatribe.
Lux rolled those amber peepers like they were skritt casino slots filled with endless copper coins, “Then take a fucking Miss Pei sleep tonic, or have Cora knock you out with a spell. Unless, and I’m guessing, you didn’t come all the way over here for a sedative? What do you want, Aiden?”
“Something doesn’t feel right….still.”
Lux kept quiet when he admitted what she’d heard before. She could easily dismiss him like previous times, say something superfluously sassy to deviate his tension or intentionally rile him up about some triviality as a distraction. But tonight there was a hesitant restraint to her expected absurd antics and her taunting tongue. She let her silence linger, a calm concession alluding that he should continue.
“You’ve told me you don’t know, and I believe you. River won’t even speak to me, because she knows I’ll know she’s lying. Diana is…well, Diana. I don’t think they told Cora anything at all. But….someone knows. And Phil…can’t. I am wise enough to not put him in that position, even if I very much want to. Which is weird and…..” Those deep-set, jade eyes of his squinted as he stared at Lux, “Probably cast a spell to literally prevent me from asking him but….I get it. Healer’s oath and all…”
Conversations about Aiden’s healing and recovery always made Lux beyond uncomfortable, to the point that she couldn’t understand why her normally inquisitive nature prevented her from digging into the issue in spite of her own reserved suspicions. Maybe Aiden was onto the possibility that a memory wipe and mind block of sorts was performed? But no, it couldn’t be. That would be unethical, and the Collective was all about following their particular ethics code.
“I don’t think you should dwell on it, Aiden. I think….I think you should be glad that the Branded corruption didn’t go any deeper and you were able to get the organ transplants. Not everyone was that lucky after the battle.” Lux’s reassuring words, while sincere, had a droplet of doubt to them…and Aiden was perceptive to their masked uncertainty.
“But you had to know. Or someone….someone had to know.”
“Know what?” Lux’s feigned innocence was old news to the savvy chronomancer.
“Lux, just… Don’t. Who was it? Or who were they, for that matter? Whose organs do I have?”
A conspicuous wave of defensiveness swept over the flustered mesmer, and she hastily took a few more cautious steps back, “Aiden, I’ve told you. I don’t know anything about that! I came to see you while you were hospitalized, and took great troubles with security clearance since I’m not Collective. Uncle Seb had to vouch for me! I….I really don’t know anything about that. I don’t even think my uncle knows! Sage made the call! I….I’m not even sure Cora knows!”
“Oh, she knows. She must know.” He spit those words in an unusually bitter tone, devoid of the softness he reserved only for Cora. But he quickly backtracked, his voice relaxing to a moderate rasp, “And if she doesn’t know, then they did something. To her, to me. To memory.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Lux countered, “The Collective protects the integrity of what we mesmers are capable of doing. That would be against the very principle of why the organization exists. I’m living proof of how far they’ll go to make sure we don’t use our magic inappropriately.”
“Yeah,” Aiden snorted, “You’re quite literally living proof. You should be dead.”
Lux scoffed and dramatically tossed a long, honey-colored tendril off her shoulder, some strands catching against the thick (vintage!) fur framing her robe’s collar, “I reformed. I wasn’t even mentally stable. I was pardoned. Anyway, why do you care where your heart and one lung and whatever else came from? Kidney? Liver? You’re alive and that’s what matters. Do them justice by living your best life.”
Her superficial words were no special comfort to Aiden, but they gave him serendipitous insight. “You’re not wrong. But they, they’re speaking to me in a sublime way.” His jade eyes lowered to meet hers, “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I also don’t care? So if that’s all you’ve got tonight, please kindly teleport off my balcony and go back to Harathi or whatever centaur-infested lands you wander these days. Or are you and Cora still shacking up in Ebonhawke? How very edgy of you two. The market is still getting bombed. Separatists rampant. That’s so typical of—-”
But her unsavory quips were cut off when he suddenly vanished into a misty, violet cloud followed by a dim flash.
“Rude.”
(She did care. He was the closest thing she had to a parental figure, dysfunctional as it may be. But she’d never say that to his face. She’s a Larkspur, and he’s a peasant. Also, she still found him insufferably annoying.)
Later, after a sleepless night sodden with second-hand guilt, she waltzed to the oversized norn desk in her chalet suite and plucked her enchanted quill from its ink well. Not even bothering to summon her penmanship with magic and dictation, she started scribbling and sending off lavender-colored envelopes to multiple recipients:
River,
Aiden is restless and struggling. He came by tonight, confused and asking questions. I think you should talk to him.
~Lux
Uncle Seb,
I’m worried about Aiden. You should check up on him.
~Luxie
Alissa,
Are you still keeping in touch with Elias? You know, the cute but kind of intense mesmer that I think is a Shining Blade friend of yours but probably top secret agent Mesmer Collective guy? Can I get his contact info? Asking for a friend. No, really.
xoxo, Luxie
Darling Cora,
Hi darling! So! How’s everything? How’s the baby? Oh wow, Wintersday is coming quick as Zephyr winds! We should get together soon and talk about the Wintersday Rurikton Roses event and such! I’m staying in Timberline Falls, come visit! It’s lovely out here! I’ll send a griffon for you and the baby, darling. Say when!
xoxo, ~Lux
That poor, weak butterfly clockwork mail carrier would need oiling soon, or at least a visit to Ruby’s shop.
(( @lipstickmirage @alissabryliss-fairfax oh look I did a thing! ))
She didn't ask. It wasn't safe to. She knew that at least. She had expected to lose her partner, to lose the father of her child and then...nothing. crickets. Whispers that things would be alright.
She didn't ask. Why should she. When labor took her and the babe came swift and slick...she couldn't ask. She expected the worst, and..it didn't come.
Soft curls were kissed and a babe at her breast and in time she got to visit. He was so pale, so fragile, but she could see it. Something happened, a surgery a break through...something...
Something she couldn't linger on until his arms were around the babe their child. Her breath caught and she rested for the first time in weeks. His scars would heal, and one day she'd ask...but for now she was so happy for his arms around their child...their daughter ... Her breath caught.
She knew it was just a beginning, but oh what a beginning...
