#cookingforsithis

“What? That’s not fair!” Dust pouts at the question, arms crossing over her chest. “I know it’s just a game, but I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and I don’t want to have to choose between people I like. Honestly, flip a fucking coin. I don’t want to behead anyone, but I’d wed and bed each of them.”

The pout vanishes, replaced by a catlike smirk. Her eyes go dreamy.

He caught her in his strong arms, and held her there for a moment, if only to allow time for a small quip, “Well, it’s nice to a trip out there to see you,” a laugh, as he helped balanced her back on her feet.

“I was hoping to come see you for your… expertise. Though… I admit, perhaps I’m a little embarrassed, and I’d like to ask if you’d absolutely keep things discreet? Wouldn’t want someone to hear and make me very unpopular.”

“Oh! My hero.” She chuckled in an attempt to wave off her little mishap, though her cheeks were bright red. When he spoke again, however, she composed herself properly.

“Ah, of course. I’m so sorry - I don’t normally make this much of a ruckus. Come in.” This time she made it up the stairs without mishap, holding the door open until he entered, then shutting and locking it behind her. Hanging her key on her belt she turned.

She had just finished closing up shop and was setting up her lantern for the night - swinging gently in the brush of a cold, damp winter breeze, making the tiny flame she tried to bring to life shudder. Only when it flared strong did she let it go and close the latch. Her store was closed, but a healer’s work was never done, and it wouldn’t do for a wounded person to have to stumble to her door in the dark.

Focused on her task she jumped at the nearby voice, giving a sharp inhale and glancing around herself before seeing the form nearby. Recognition, and the voice became familiar, the smile returned. She moved away from the door to great him, stepping down.

“Jean-Pierre! I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone out this late. Please, come in from the co - OH!“

Journal,

A new face came to me, today. A woman, perhaps in her thirties. She told me what she needed, and I’m obliging, of course. I’ve already made her the tea - thyme, penny royal, savin juniper. A soak in similar herbs, as well, then I’ll check on her again in the morning. If the results aren’t what we want, I’ll use the more - invasive tactic, as needed.

... I don’t probe those who come to me for it. That’s their business, not mine, and I don’t want to make a stressful situation harder. But I do worry. If she has someone to return to, to be safe with after, through recovery. She told me she can’t stay here - she needs to return home, before she’s noticed missing too long. She must have come from another city - Riften, perhaps - here to avoid judgement. Besides, I doubt the temple or old Elgrim would offer that service. 

✿ Appearance ☠ Battle Prowess

Rori had never seen such a contradiction. He moved with the same odd power that she had witnessed in briarhearts growing up, but he dressed and spoke like a well-bred Breton. It was unnerving, to say the least. Certainly, he had to be able to fight. His musculature was apparent, and a telling scar split his throat, but beyond that…