twisted vines

@tragxics  — freya + baz ! 

it   wasn’t   often   freya’s   son   had   children   to   play   with   that   were   near   his   age   .   but   there   was   a   little   girl   that   he   loved   to   play   wish   .   freya   was   sitting   on   the   steps   of   her   home   ,   watching   the   two   play   .   a   small   smile   was   on   her   lips   as   the   two   squealed   and   laughed   with   each   other   .   “   baz   ,   ”   freya   laughed   softly   .   “   i   could   watch   these   two   play   all   day   ,   they   are   so   sweet   together   .   ”

baz chuckled, crossing his arms. he shared her sentiment; lily did not often have playmates her own age. too often it was the flowers down at the hall or the older children at the garden that took her under their wing, but being able to be her own age looked freeing. he could almost forget how lonely she must feel when she wasn’t with the vanbeerg boy.

“watch out, next they’ll fall in love.”

“I understand,” they replied, bowing their head slightly. While Aymeric loved to pretend like they’d never experienced poverty in their life, they had. They knew what it was like to go to sleep hungry, they knew what it was like to have to split meager meals with their parents and their siblings. They never, ever wanted to experience it again, but they knew. And he had a daughter - Aymeric is grateful that his stomach is the only one he has to worry about. “I am sorry you have to worry about these things.” Glancing back up at him again, they feel selfish for not sharing what they have, and they know it’s going to gnaw at their stomach for the rest of the night if they don’t do something about it now. Reaching into their pocket, they fish around until their fingers close around some coins. Pulling them out, they offer them to him, trying to rid themself of the feeling of guilt while knowing that he could use the coin more than they could. “If for nothing else, for your daughter’s shoes.”

-

baz hesitates, halfway between taking the money and not. the sun glint off the coin, shining light in the small courtyard they were in; the flame moving through this decision, truly. but lily did need new shoes. not taking the coin would not change that. after his deliberation, baz takes the money from them, putting it in his pockets as he attempts to not look surly about having to take charity.

“you have to come to my pub, now. i can’t pay you back, but at least let me get you some ale.”

WARM  STREAKS  OF  fading  indigos  &  violets  had  barely  begun  to  color  the  twilight  sky  —  and  though  the  night  is  young  ,  that  does  little  to  sway  amaru  from  preparing  themself  for  the  patrons  that  were  surely  to  come  filing  in  through  the  flower  hall’s  door  soon  enough.  honeyed  curls  settled  against  their  forehead  —  and  as  they  dabbed  loose  pigment  against  already-rosied  cheeks  with  careful  finesse  ,  the  light  summoner  couldn’t  help  but  hum  a  soft  response  to  the  man  lounged  only  a  few  feet  away  ;  amaru  adjusts  the  gilded  handheld  mirror  grasped  between  slender  digits  ,  just  enough  to  catch  a  proper  reflection  of  a  freckled  cheek.  ❝  the  night  is  young  ,  baz  ,  ❞  they  chirp  gently  ,  pads  of  their  fingers  tapping  the  remnants  of  loose  pigment  away.  the  mirror  lowers  &  as  sea-breeze  eyes  lift  to  meet  baz’s  gaze  ,  their  expression  softens.  they  set  the  object  down  upon  the  nearest  surface  in  favor  of  inching  closer  &  closer.  as  they  lower  themself  to  find  purchase  at  the  very  edge  of  the  chaise  –  a  respectful  amount  of  distance  between  them  ,  of  course  –  amaru  offers  a  warm  smile.  ❝  your  hair  is  a  mess  –  come  here.  i  have  the  time  and  you  deserve  the  energy.  when  was  the  last  time  you  let  yourself  relax  ?  properly  ,  i  mean.  ❞  the  soft  chide  that  lingers  in  amaru’s  tone  is  good-natured  ,  as  sweet  as  nectar.

-

baz makes a show of scoffing, but settles down next to maru all the same. he feels he has to at least put up a token effort of independence before he lets the flowers lavish him with attention and care. “properly?” he breathes out, thinking. the true answer was a few days ago when james bent him over their desk, but he didn’t want to say that out loud. “hard to say. i don’t really keep track of those kinds of things. and lily likes to play with my hair sometimes, so it gets very tangled.”

it had been a long day, but the first one where he had the night off, and he could not bring himself to entertain leliana throughout it. so he brought her to the flower hall, if only to pay the girls a visit and for him to drop in on derya. after lily was settled in with some of the girls, already playing games to their heart’s content, baz collapsed onto a luxuriously stuffed chaise lounge.

“no clients yet?” he asked maru.

“ah. she’s sweet.” james only seemed warm to two people. baz and lily. he’d been warm with other people before, but they’d lost those privileges. baz had kept those privileges for longer than that now. lily had his heart the minute he met her. sweet little chomper. 

“speaking of sweet. no. i got some savory pastries too. you know me. always looking for variety.” his pause is poignant. “am i invited to festival exploring or is this a blood family only sort of thing?” his question isn’t offended. he’s always been fairly straightforward. baz never had to include him. james felt honored if he ever was. no strings attached. 

-

“i thought you’d be out doing work. didn’t expect you back until sundown.” he pushes james’ hair out of his face, looking upon it with such tender fondness, his hand resting at the crest of his jaw. “you can come if you like, i am sure the little devil would enjoy your company. your shoulders are better to ride upon than mine, after all.” his fingers tap along james’ jaw, as if contemplating something, then he goes in for a kiss. he no longer feels as if he has to steal them now; it’s different. although, he should be enticing more customers into the tavern, rather than his lover into his bed.

she does laugh at his words. he seems silly. she likes silliness. though, she would never openly admit it. it wasn’t becoming of her station. 

“we must rise with the sun. its warmth stokes the flame of the eternal fire.” she says this as if it is obvious. “i wake at dawn every morning. my body seems to react naturally.” zofia, fiercely proud of her devotion to the eternal fire, almost seems to puff her chest out in pride. 

-

he wants to roll his eyes at her, but remembers his own piece of flint around his neck, carved in the shape of a serpent, that used to belong to his mother. better not blaspheme too much whilst wearing it.

THE  FRIGID  BITE  of  the  crisp  breeze  leaves  freckled  cheeks  flushed  the  faintest  shade  of  rose  -  pink–  and  as  amaru  reaches  to  adjust  the  fur  -  lined  scarf  (  a  gift  from  a  regular  patron  ;  it  was  ,  after  all  ,  far  too  expensive  for  them  to  afford  on  their  own  coin  )  wrapped  snugly  around  their  neck  ever  so  slightly  ,  they  cannot  help  but  wonder  whether  the  flame’s  so  -  called  eternal  warmth  had  forsaken  kaerholt’s  devout  patrons  without  warning.  they  don’t  dare  to  admit  to  such  a  heretical  thought  ,  though  ,  no  matter  how  idle  –  and  as  sea-breeze  hues  wander  over  the  cobblestone  roads  &  the  many  patrons  milling  about  to  hawk  for  their  wares  ,  his  gaze  finds  purchase  against  a  familiar  face  &  their  ears  catch  on  to  a  baritone  timber  he  can’t  help  but  recognize.  almost  immediately  ,  amaru  feels  their  lips  curl  into  a  smile  of  genuine  excitement  ,  dimple  dipping  into  a  freckled  cheek  all  the  while.  it  takes  little  agility  to  weave  through  the  crowds  &  as  they  bounce  to  a  halt  before  him  ,  a  delicate  laugh  bubbles  from  their  lips.  

❝  d’you  think  lady  luck  will  smile  on  me  enough  to  let  me  win  a  game  of  cards  ,  then  ?  ❞  amaru’s  tone  is  just  shy  of  sly  ,  a  coy  giggle  coloring  their  words  all  the  while.  head  tilts  &  honeyed  curls  bounce  readily  against  their  forehead  —  and  as  they  hold  baz’s  gaze  ,  their  impish  smile  fades  into  a  softer  one.  they  reach  ,  fingers  wiggling  in  a  show  of  excitement.  ❝  now  ,  exactly  how  much  coin  is  there  to  win  ,  hm  ?  i  do  say  ,  i  think  i’d  look  ridiculous  amongst  the  garden’s  typical  clientele  ,  but  …  ❞  they  trail  off  ,  peering  up  at  baz  once  more  with  a  twinkle  in  their  eye.  ❝  for  you  ?  why  not  !  ❞  another  giggle  follows  suit  &  amaru  bounces  lightly  on  their  heels.  ❝  fancy  seeing  you  here  ,  baz.  is  this  how  you  spend  a  majority  of  your  afternoons  ?  plucking  unsuspecting  passerbyers  for  a  game  of  cards  and  ale  ?  ❞  their  teasing  lilt  relents  and  as  amaru  settles  ,  they  fold  the  flyer  in  their  hand  neatly  to  gently  tuck  away  into  their  pocket.

-

baz chuckles when he heard maru speak and turns to face them. “look who the flame summoned. i don’t think you could win a hand of cards even if i helped you cheat.” he walks over to him and gently tugs on the fur scarf. “you’d get swindled just by stepping within a hair’s breadth of the garden. which is my place of employment now, if you were wondering.” he gestures to the tavern. “i don’t just hang about the flower hall all day.”

A part of Aymeric felt like that was an insult - calling him out of touch with the people whose class they’d been born into. They can remember every single one of their family’s harvests - successful and poor alike. They can remember starving through the winter, not having two coins to rub together. The only reason things are different now is because they’ve caught the eye of the Lovelowes. If they lose their affection, though… Aymeric knows better than anyone that they aren’t permanently safe from a life of poverty. “I understand,” they comment simply, rubbing at the back of their neck. “But, sometimes, it is nice to have something pretty to look at when you are surrounded by nothing but sadness.”

-

he can see he’s getting to them, but he can’t stop. it’s like he has no ability to dam up the part of his mind that shared his own opinion. he shrugs. “dunno. sometimes it’s nice to not go to bed hungry. i don’t like i ever have enough coin left over to buy something pretty to look at. if i did, i’d get a new shirt, or my daughter new shoes. not saying paintings are bad, just that they’re of no use to the poor. even if i got a free one, i’d probably have to sell it.” he suddenly felt like a horrible person. “maybe if your patrons paid me more, i’d get to buy a painting or two.”

It was curious, to Aymeric, that this man was born in the city, but wouldn’t want the flame in his portrait - ignoring the fact that he could not afford a portrait altogether; most people in the city wouldn’t be able to afford one – Aymeric themself, before the Lovelowes took them under their wing, wouldn’t have been able to afford to commission any artist worth their coin. “Ah, yes, because art is laughable,” they comment blankly, looking at him. “I do not see what is funny about having a portrait painted.”

-

“having a fancy picture of yourself is what they’d laugh at. the bigness of the ego and all that. doesn’t matter if it’s a painting of the sea or some such, but if it’s of your face, just get a mirror. if it’s like a fruit bowl, just buy some fruit. folk who don’t have two coins to rub together would rather get the thing that helps them versus something that look pretty for no reason.”

They consider him - not many people in this city would admit that they didn’t want the flame present in their portrait, from their experience. “Are you originally from here?” They ask, unable to distinguish his accent. “I would require more payment for a deer, but ale and meat could be done at the regular cost. A deer is a… unique, distinguishable creature. Much like a person, if you do not paint it perfectly, everyone who looks at the portrait will be able to see that the artist is not worth their coin.” They give him a little smile - only speaking out of fondness of their art. 

-

he shrugs. “not got enough coin for a painting of myself, anyway. i was born down by the docks, still live down by the docks. it’s a bit different there than here inside the city walls.” he laughs to himself. “maybe i’d get a fish instead. never was good at fishing, but there sure is a lot of it around me. doesn’t matter, though. i’d have nowhere to put a painting of myself, and i’m sure everyone in the tavern would have a good laugh at my expense.”

open to all! location: center marketplace

“ how about a wager then? “  the energy of the festival and the markets surrounded kalisia promoting the woman to sport a more genuine smile, the laughter barely hidden behind teeth and the sparkle in eye betraying any sense of keeping a mask in place; she’d redress herself in it upon return to quarters. “ it won’t take tooo much out of your pockets I assure you. “ as if that were the only outcome, as if kali were so certain so smug in the knowledge that these sugary spiced pepper treats awaiting in the stall before them, boasting of various heat levels was something to not bat an eye over. 

-

he gives her a look, then down at the patched pockets he struggled to repair last night. “how about i wager something other than coin? i can get you ale, or food. or run an errand for a lady as beautiful as yourself.” he gives her a rakish smile. “but this all depends upon what you’re wagering on. i won’t entered a fixed bet.”

.

iseult ought to feel scared, perhaps even deterred from entering the one place that actually seems devoid of any rules. and yet. “ah, well, as long as i get to keep the shoes.” there’s a playfulness in their voice, head shaking in amusement. “i have a bed to go back to but i do appreciate the information and will keep it in mind should i want to spend the night awake instead.” she looks at the door behind him for a moment before her attention is back to where it was. “laozhun empire. been a month or so since i’ve arrived. kaerholt is quite… interesting.” particularly the difference between the views on magic. “are you from around here?”

-

“laozhun?” he raises his eyebrows. “can’t say i see many from the empire down by these taverns. aren’t you all rich with coin? no need to muddy your skirts at the docks.” it was an old stereotype that likely did not hold water, but he’d only ever seen the opulently dressed arrive from the laozhun empire. he grins. “but we’re more fun than any pretty place you could find closer to the eldrkirk. come, get a drink.” he coaxes them inside.