Renrael

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Renrael seemed stressed as he asked, shooting pointed glances down the short hallway toward Ash's room.

Lyn laughed a bit as she packed her medical bag -- the unavoidable emergency call had happened at the worst time, like they usually seemed to, and she had to get into the city, "Yes, of course. I trust you, and Ash likes you. Just don't tell Trisandrah, she'll think you're doing a test run."

That got a bright, nervous bark of a laugh out of the younger man. "Do you have a preference where we go?"

"Fairbreeze is smaller but has better candy, Glimmerglen has more houses but smaller hauls. Hit up both if you've got the time, but he's going to start getting really tired around 20 bells so you'll want to be making your way back about that time," she'd done this a couple of years now and had learned the ins and outs of the trick-or-treat candy trade.

"Uncle Ren, Uncle Ren, Uncle Ren!" Ash trundled down the hall in his Arcande Guardian costume, the thick paperboard forms overwhelming his small form in the most adorable way, his empty pillow case held up high over his head in celebration.

Renrael smiled, "Yeah, yeah. We'll go in just a minute."

Ash kept on, shuffling past his Uncle Ren before stopping at his mom, "Trick or treat, please!"

Lyn sighed before smiling, sad in her own way that she'd miss this year, "You got it, buddy." She handed down a small, round chocolate ball from a stash she'd been keeping on hand for this exact moment.

Ash immediately popped it into his mouth and CRUNCHED down, a true boy child, before holding his mouth back open in surprise and toddler horror as the popping candy inside the chocolate ball went off audibly.

Renrael stifled his laughter as Lyn smirked down at her son, "Trick, kiddo. Go get lots of candy with your uncle, okay?"

Hand-delivered with a bouquet of red roses, and another bouquet of Quel’thalas wildflowers, and another of lilies in all varieties. All in all there were enough flowers to fill every available space on her work kitchen counter. There was also a note, with a single dandelion tied to it. The handwriting on the note was distinctive--and terrible. He was in a hurry. He was always a little bit in a hurry.

Dear Trisandrah, I know this is kind of fluffy hippy-dippy stuff for us, but I just wanted to say that I’m still so happy. You make me happy. I hope all the flowers make you smile. No special reason, just stopped and got a little shiver and smile today--all because of you. Wanted you to know. Don’t tip Tre’vor, he’s a little bit of an asshole--just kidding, always tip the delivery guy, yeah?

Making a wish,

Ren

@daily-writing-challenge

Mention: @trisandrah

He was getting better about remembering things. He remembered her at the Menagerie, selling chocolate. At the brewery, with his cheatsheet for the drinks not very well hidden. She hated bourbon, that’s where he learned that. He remembered that early on. He remembered runs in the morning (thanks, Raerys) and stops at the Breadsmith (thanks, Lyn). Fireworks by the water at Fire Fest in the summers. How she’d sounded in the bathroom talking to (presumably Raerys) about how he wanted to date her. The infamous Negotiation. He kissed her hair with a smile and closed his eyes.

He remembered the day she’d shown him the hidden parts of her apartment--over a year after they’d been together(ish). Leaving her a love note on a scrap of paper and fleeing before she could. How she looked when she held Raerys’s daughter. How she smiled at him when he brought her a new bracelet. How she looked when she tasted a new ‘winner’ chocolate recipe. How she danced. How she punched (very well, thank you). How she made drinks and small talk for the Tarts. If she ran, he’d run with her. @daily-writing-challenge

Day 15 Memory/Chase

Tris had spent a lovely afternoon at Raerys’.  They’ve caught up and chatted about the ever gloomy news regarding the Shadowlands while Livvy played on the floor. When Aunty Tris leaves, she meets Ouro at the door.  

Tris closes the door behind her, leaving Raerys none the wiser and effectively trapping Ouro on the stoop.  

“Sooo. You’re in the know about all the things.  How would I go about trying to find an erm… old friend in the Shadowlands?”

It had been obvious Ouro thought little Tris’ question. She knew this as she walked home, but the idea that this avenue wouldn’t long be open niggled in her thoughts.

“Small chance of finding anyone she knows in the afterlife.”

“Don’t be disappointed.”

“It’s a tiny sliver of what actually exists.”

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard it all before. But there was a chance. She had to squash anything that might’ve remained.

She paused on her own stoop. Perhaps it was time for a reunion with her dear old papa.

“Ren?” she called out when she opened the door.  “Aren’t you quite ready for a little getaway?”

It wasn’t how he’d thought to spend his vacation time with her. There were no beaches, no romantic restaurants, and no dancing. He hadn’t prepared with flowers or theater tickets--but instead with new daggers and potions. No, this wasn’t the vacation he’d been planning. But this is what she’d asked of him. This felt important. In his own mind, he didn’t want to be here. He had to compromise. His hand tightened in hers, but he wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to reassure. Oribos, and what it symbolized, was overwhelming. Renrael had considered going to the Shadowlands when the portals had been first linked. He’d never managed to get himself through one though, even with his curiosity piqued. It had felt blasphemous. It felt surreal to be here, even now. He looked up, and up. The ‘city’ stretched up so high, and so low. He ran his free hand through hair, scrubbing briefly at the back of his neck.

He’d glanced over the open chasm in the center. Just once. He’d nearly vomited. Surely someone in the Maw--he had been warned that’s where it went--would not appreciate getting hit with that. Better not to--Shit! His musing was interrupted by another one. People were just leaping in! Like armored gazelle, heads thrown back and legs pointed. He gaped and a goblin thrust herself forward, hurtling with the abandonment of a child cannonballing. Ren wasn’t usually scared of heights--regularly climbing up every Silvermoon Spire that wouldn’t get him shot--but there was something about the twisting anima magic that

People were fucking crazy

“Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” Her voice was smooth with amusement. And affection. His apprehension melted.

He glanced down at her and smirked. But she’d already looked elsewhere. Those lovely eyes nearly fever-bright and probing into all the gloaming darks--they weren’t really shadows. Whoever she was looking for, she was getting frustrated at not finding them. As if whatever spirit she sought should have apparated in the instant they’d stepped through the portal. It hadn’t. And she was getting more cross as their time in Oribos stretched. It wasn’t the vacation he’d expected. But they were together. She’d asked him to do something this important with her--it wasn’t an easy thing. He’d follow her into Hell. Or Heaven. And they said romance was dead. Ha!

@daily-writing-challenge

mentions: @trisandrah

My muse’s favorite thing about yours is ____ The thing my muse dislikes about yours is ____

“She was so enrapturable, and when she wanted to know someone or experience something, they become her world for a moment so she can really revel in them. If it was an experience, it was fascinating to watch her, to help her indulge in it. If it was you, spending time with her, it became a singularity, a microcosm where for a moment, you were the center of the little world that you both were in. At least, that’s how it felt.” “She didn’t choose me.”

(Tinnaire and Renrael below the cut.)