#vanathithreads

Now that Destarin was back under the control of the Courts - or that was how Vanathi saw it - she had decided it was time to make the most of it until her father - or anyone sent by him - caught a glimpse of her and came to take her back. She was going to have fun. She probably wouldn’t be able to find her baker’s boy before then, but the least she could do was make as many friends as possible, get drunk, and pass out in interesting places. 

She placed two mugs of beer down in front of the other and smiled brightly. “This round is on me, next one you’re paying for, I’m not rich, just a grocer,” they said with a wink. 

This time of year, Vanathi was most grateful to have been named the Vaanii, to have been able to fight alongside those who had died for the same thing she had died for. But also those who had died alongside her grandfather. A moment to remember the lives lost. The first years she’d done it, she’d felt horrible, remembering all the people she hadn’t been able to save, and how unfair it was that she got to survive while they perished. 

Now, she was glad she was alive to remember them. 

She’d left many offerings where she could, made food, written letters. 

Now she was tired but content. Taking a seat at the edge of town, opening a bag of food to nibble on she noted another figure nearby coming out of the forest. Her eyes instantly caught on - beautiful - and she smiled. “Hello! I have not seen you before, I think, are you coming to visit Destarin, settling down? Or do you have a nice little hut in the forest?”

Vanathi was known to make crude jokes. It was her way to root out those who didn’t fit with her view of the world. She wished to make everything a little bit lighter, preferably by making jokes about sex and so forth. 

But there were those that made the Vaanii wish to be a little less, and bit more comfortable and suave, as if this was the way she could win the hearts of others. As if portraying the powerful ally her father wanted her to be would make her seem more grown-up. Despite how badly she wanted the years of her life back that she’d given to the court, to dying, to being resurrected. 

She took a deep breath and sat down at a table in the teashop. Tea was not her chosen drink, but Tajhana was her chosen company, and having chosen the time perfectly, the place was currently dealing with its afternoon slow. And she leaned over the table eyeing the establishment’s owner hoping she would soon come to her and offer her a tea.

If anyone had told Vanathi the Vaanii two years ago that she'd be selling fruits and vegetables in a magic grocer shop, she would've laughed. Not just laughed, but probably laughed so hard she'd kicked a chair - or perhaps a table - over in her effort to calm herself and to enjoy how ridiculous that sounded.

Now, it wasn't even that ridiculous, she loved the work.

It was much better than getting killed every month, and then resurrected. Nobody would ever understand the pain of having to take a five hour steaming hot bath just to feel like yourself again... or well, possibly a lot of people did. If not: they were missing out.

She placed a new load of freshly conjured purple potatoes in their little crate and greeted the unsuspected bystander. Her toothy smile meant to draw them in, even if at times it seemed like she wanted to hit you over the head with a Withering Watermelon.

Mansions and castles and palaces weren't anything new to Vanathi, perhaps she'd even grown to dislike them rather than to enjoy their splendour like she once had. In her opinion, those with horrible taste usually occupied those spaces.

She had a whole box of produce with her, order by someone around this part of town, but she hadn't exactly paid ample attention to the directions, nor had she written it down. Leaving her, rather annoyingly, to just knock on doors and ask around. Surely someone had need of veggies and fruits.

The box in her hands, she knocked on the big door with her feet. Hard enough to kick it in should it accidentally be locked.

This place could come straight from one of those steamy novels she used to read on long trips.

"Hello! Anyone home?"

Vanathi felt some freedom to do whatever she liked now that she had completely her tasks as someone who'd survived. Though she couldn't help continuing the offerings, even if it was a little much. Her plate at the cafe was doubled, one she would later throw into the fire for the ghosts of those who had passed, while she was absent-mindedly eating from the other.

With a content sigh she watched the busy cafe. All tables were taken, people were seated next to strangers, and there was a run of the mill of rumours and stories.

But for once, she didn't feel like she needed to hear about them. "I am kindly wishing for it to snow, but I suppose that might not be normal weather in Destarin," she noted to the person sitting next to her. "I'd organise a snow fight."

Oh lo and behold: there was no running away from the courts.

Not that the Vaanii had ever really thought that she would be able to get away from her former employers, or thought they didn't know exactly where she was. And of course, at the times she had been paying attention, she'd learned that Destarin was still on everyone's maps: figureatively and literally. And it would have to be... domesticated at some point.

But there went her wish to settle down with some baker boy and start her own brood of children - who she would teach to fight and go explore the seas with.

She sighed as she planted herself firmly beside Leopold, perhaps not so much a friend as a contact, though Vanathi was quick to consider anyone a friend, and those who brought the best gossip simply had a soft spot in her heart.

"You must tell me of new gossip, Leopold, my dear. My heart is empty and heavy with life's woos."