Tea, Cakes, and... Swords?

While the air is still chill, the clear skies and bright sun offer some visual and actual warmth this day. Verna takes advantage of the light, a bench, and the proximity of marble walls (to block the wind) to enjoy some reading. Not unlike times taken in the garden, simply without the need to drag a leashed Seer or Silverguard in tow. In this instance, there is a Sunguard nearby, at a polite-yet-actionable distance. The small book in hand occupies much of the Mourner's attention. As well, she appears to be healing well, if the shift in colors upon her face are any indication. The grey-green of the fading bruises is a positive note to the informed even if the appearance is, as one noted in the vernacular, 'rather gnarly.'

Auranar is never hard to miss. Particularly not in this cold season with her bright red coat. For while her dress is prone to changing with her mood, a coat endures. Today's dress in fact is varying shades of purple-to-pink. Which matches her hair in design quite nicely. The wild elf has a sense of fashion if nothing else. In one hand she carries a quite large basket, and the other is at the moment empty. Though it does occasionally stray toward the basket as though to aid herself in carrying it.

She pauses only a little away from Verna, taking in the wounds she bears in the light of day and seems to gather her resolve as she draws closer and yet it does mean that she's not smiling as she had intended to as she approaches the other woman. "Verna!" At least her voice is somewhat chipper.

The bright colors may well catch Verna's attention in peripheral vision, as she starts to turn just before she is closed up and greeted. While she does not bloom into a broad smile (that is Auranar's prerogative normally, afterall), her countenance does brighten at the call and sight of the caller.

"Auranar, it is good to see you again." A slight pause is taken to fully observe the other, to include the current dress that compliments her hair, as well as the basket. "Also pleasant to look upon you, today," she adds. The book is closed, page marked, without her needing to look to it.

The wild elf smiles reflexively, it's easy enough to do. "Thank you. I wish I could say the same about you." She sighs and makes a soft sound of sympathy as she reaches out as if to touch one of the bruises on Verna's face. She holds back slightly though, not wanting to hurt the other woman. "Why haven't you let a healer see to you Verna? They must be clamoring to do so."

A flicker of that smile is now returned, also reflexively, though it ends in some pursing of lips after. Verna does not recoil from the reaching, regardless of whether the contusions may be sensitive. "Several asked, some were quite insistent. I could heal myself, as well, easily enough. However, it seemed inappropriate. It is a mark of my lapse in control; my failure that was, fortunately, contained by another. I believed the consequence might remind me to better focus in the future. It will fade soon enough."

Rather than touch anything sensitive, Auranar settles for finding a bit of flesh unbruised and giving it a gentle touch. She then withdraws her hand and nods. She can understand perhaps better than most a self-imposed stricture. A reminder to ones self to do better in the future. "Well, I hope it works." Her dark eyes are worried for a moment. "I hate the idea of his memories inside your mind..."

She shakes her head and straightens slightly, bringing her basket to the fore. "In lighter news, I brought you some snacks! Nothing good for you at all. Just treats and tasty morsels for you to enjoy." She holds the basket out toward Verna. "I wish I could say I made them, but all I made was the tea to go with it."

Verna reaches a hand to offer a return moment of contact at her arm, perhaps too late. "The idea... terrifies me, at times.." she admits, albeit quietly. The presentation of the basket is a segue that she quickly accepts, and her focus shifts to it with a brightening expression.

"If it is my fate to travel a delectable trail to Her Hall, who am I refuse?" While the intonation of her delivery is lacking, it is likely a jest. She accepts the basket, though does not take it fully from Auranar. "That you brought them, that you are here, is more than enough. Would you join me? If only to ensure that none go to waste?"

"Absolutely!" Auranar offers enthusiastically, grinning even more widely at what she assumes and hopes is Verna's attempt at a joke. "I had rather hoped you would invite me to join you."

She makes an amused noise, realizing that she's made a double-entendre about joining Verna in the Gray Halls - albeit unintentionally. They hold the basket together and Auranar tilts her head slightly to the side. "Do you want to stay here, or should we make our way somewhere more private and less... obviously guarded?" She grins.

It is unlikely that Verna intended that potential double-meaning, if the quality of her jokes are any indication. She nods and slowly rises, keeping hold of the basket so that it is not upset nor dumped on anyone. "I have a room, here, as a .. guest. It is large enough for company, and without guards." Nor is it terribly far as she makes to lead to said quarters. Which are enormously spacious by Vardamen standards, incidentally.

The room draws a bit of awe out of Auranar, and she looks around it with surprise. "This is a really nice room! Much larger than your usual inn fair." Which is something she should know since she holes up in them regularly. "You must be someone they consider important, or they have a lot of extra space in this temple!"

"It is far more than I am accustomed," Verna admits, moving to take Auranar and the basket to the modest table. "I expect due to courtesy, or perhaps Seldan's involvement. My vault at the temple is far smaller, though suffices for myself. Guests, there, are not so common." Combined with a few simple chairs, plus the normal bed, chest, and washbowl at the other end, it might be considered a full suite at one of the more spacious inns.

With the basket secured on the table, a chair is motioned to invitingly. A thought subsequently strikes as Verna glances once about the room. "It would be more convenient were there a kitchen, though that would be rather unnecessarily lavish for guest accommodations."

"I imagine that you're right and that guests are more common here than they are at Vardama's temple." Auranar allows herself to be led to the table, setting the basket down on it and taking the proffered seat. Though she does divest herself of her coat first. It's warm enough here that it's not really necessary. Then she sets about going through the basket as Verna brings up the want for a kitchen and flashes the other woman a smile.

"The risk and expense of so many kitchens would be..." She shakes her head. "Not even mentioning how hot it would be in the temple? But it's a nice thought. I've been considering trying to rent a little place, but it's hard to find something. I don't suppose you know anyone selling a place at a reasonable price?"

Verna takes a seat for herself, watching Auranar and the basket with interest. The question, if rhetorical, draws some thought. "I do not know of any at this moment, though I did make some inquiries in recent weeks. Events have been rather hectic, as of late, but I follow up."

Auranar blinks at Verna. "I didn't realize you had an interest in moving out of your temple." There's scones with a little variety of jams. They seem to be plain, but smell delicious. There's some little cakes. Different flavors to try. A fairly wide variety in fact of little bakery goods that it looks like Auranar had picked up on whim. And a large container of tea with a pair of cups that she is currently pouring out.

"I had not considered it before, either," Verna admits as she looks over the assortment. One little cake is plucked up, though she doesn't yet devour it. "After your delightful dinner, I thought to aid you in locating a more proper home. Now, the thought occurs that I should not remain at the temple indefinitely and would welcome something of a home, myself."

She then gestures to the baked goods, with the one in her hand. "As well, if we dine as such more often, I might no longer fit in the temple, much less my vault."

Auranar chuckles, ducking her head slightly and arranging the food on the table. She leaves most of the things in the basket however, to be picked over as they are desired. "I suppose we'll have to find you a nice place to stay as soon as possible then." Her eyes twinkled merrily as she looked up at Verna and if there's a light color on her cheeks Verna could be forgiven for not noticing it.

It may serve as a pause for thought, also, before she speaks further. "We could combine our resources and search. It would be more efficient to seek, and more likely to find, a single location. If you were so inclined?" Brows lift slightly with the inquiry as she looks to the syl. Promptly thereafter, she takes a large bite of her cake. To hide any potential awkward and/or coloration. Or perhaps she is simply hungry.

The broad, warm smile that spreads immediately across Auranar's face is radient. "I was thinking the exact same thing in fact. That if we pooled our resources we might be able to get something nicer than alone. Besides... a house that's empty is often a lonely one." She ducks her head again, a sure symbol of her slight embarrassment and she picks up her cup of tea as though she'd intended to all along.

It is magic, truly. There is no other logical explanation. The proven combination of cause and effect continues: Auranar's smile immediately causes one to form on Verna's features. Complete with a dusting of sugar from the cake, in this instance. Perhaps that is when Verna realizes that she has a faceful and/or mouthful of cake, so she swallows and washes it down with a hasty sip from her own cup.

"I will redouble my efforts. I do not expect to remain a guest here for long," she notes to the immediate room with her eyes before they return to the syl, "and all will be resolved soon. Thanks to you."

These words only serve to embarrass Auranar further and yet she can't help but feel pleased to have been helpful. "I just hope that one of those solutions I offered Seldan bears up. Even if I haven't been able to find _anything_ on getting rid of them entirely." Her eyes darken and she puts her cup down with a sigh. "I truly hope that the answer to removing them lies somewhere inside them."

"You provided us more options than we had before," Verna notes in attempt to encourage and assure. "I believe we shall find the solution within, or your discoveries lead us to the solution. They are more informed than charging into the memories headlong, though that option remains, if necessary. I will not tolerate these lingering figments to trouble you, nor anyone else, and certainly not by way of myself."

Auranar bites her lip, worries at it a little then nods. "You have more faith in it than I do." She smiles wanly. Faith from the cleric. The expression is quick to fade however. "Though I don't know how to turn aside my worries for you - and the others. It's just... so monstrously unfair that he's dead and yet he gets to linger on!"

She hates the vehemence in her own voice and settles herself, tries to look at the tea rather than the bruises on Verna's face which are a terrible reminder of the cost that the woman is paying for those memories. For having defeated the demon. She blinks once and then looks at Verna. "I would rather you promise me that you would never touch them again than see another bruise on your face. But I can't ask that. What if doing so holds the only key to them going away? Oh damn it all!" She curses and sighs. "I didn't mean to ruin our tea with all this."

The lack of smile, or presence have worse, has a similar correlation to Verna's expression. Despite her frown, her voice is soft as she bypasses her tea to reach for the other's arm. "Auranar..."

A breath and then,"First, you do not ruin anything. Second, you may ask me anything. I cannot promise you will always receive the answer you wish, but your concerns are foremost in my thoughts; knowing them means a great deal to me. Never feel you cannot share them."

"Lastly, we will resolve this. It may be difficult, or uncomfortable, yet it will be resolved." She notes this firmly to her, eyes seeking Auranar's. Her tone softens only marginally as she adds, "You deserve a kitchen, possibly a tea shoppe."

Auranar smiles softly at this. "Perhaps I would have been better suited to life baking and making tea for people than the study of magic. I wanted to follow in my parents footsteps. To defeat the evil that killed them." She seems less certain of her path now. "Perhaps that was childish of me."

The smile is heartening, though the comment afterwards gives Verna pause. Ah, yes. This is most assuredly what foot tastes like. Her lips purse. "My apologies. That was intended as a compliment to some of your talents, and not as an insult to others..."

Auranar laughs softly at Verna's apology. "No, I take no insult Verna. I know that none was intended. It's something I've been thinking about for a while now. I feel sometimes that I am ill-suited to the task of magic. Though I do love it." She smiles here.

One of the facts of life in the Elunan temple is that one always knows when the guards are around. Marble is not known for its ability to still sound, and the clanking of armor as its wearer moves down the hall anywhere nearby is unmistakable. Most of them can be heard only at a distance, but this one, quieter than some of the others even if not noiseless, moves down the hall at a steady clip, closer and closer to the room the women share.

Stranger still is the presence of one set of feet, and two voices, the one speaking a rather nasal, grandmotherly sort. "Seldan, you've changed. I can't remember the last time I heard you laugh," it says.

"Mal is not here, and will not set foot within these walls, with the wards up," Seldan's light, Myrrish-tinted tones answer quietly.

Verna's moment of panic evaporates at the laugh. It remains so following Auranar's assurance. "You should pursue all that you enjoy. I expect you do, and would, excel at all that you do. I-" she pauses abruptly. Her eyes close under sudden tension of her face that extends throughout her to momentarily clenched hands. A long pause follows before she opens them again.

"Apologies. It sounds as if we have an impending visitor," she notes before her eyes shift to the door. Her voice rises in volume to call out, "Silverguard, you need not knock. Your presence would be most welcomed."

Auranar can hear the sound of Seldan coming as easily as Verna, but she gets to her feet, and opens the door for him. Offering a welcoming smile. "Greetings Sir Seldan." She offers gently, standing back from the door. She glances around for the person with him but sees no one. "Was... there someone with you?"

Seldan, too, had paused a moment after that comment, but only for a moment, and now pauses in front of the door. He is fully armed and armored, his helm under one arm, Reunion at his hip, bright hair quite wet and framing his face. The smell lingering around him, soap and lavender, suggests one freshly out of the temple baths.

"You hear Reunion, my lady. They - share their wisdom most freely." A small, half-hearted smile down at the hilt of the blade on his left hip.

"It's for your own good, Seldan. You need to go roll in the hay with your boy and stop worrying about the demon for a day." This time, the voice is a middle-aged man with a definite khazadi accent, gruff and guttural.

"GOLAIN!" Several voices burst from the sword at that, indignant, along with a cacophony of scandalized objections and giggles. "Don't encourage him, you meathead!" That comes from a crotchety, irascible old man.

Seldan, who is now bright pink at this exchange, lowers his eyes. "My ladies, forgive me," he murmurs, clearly absolutely humiliated.

"There is naught to forgive," Verna notes as she rises from the table of tea and sweets. "Please, come in. If you are concerned of propriety, you are always free to leave Reunion in the hall." It may not silence them, but it could make them less audible, at least to those in the room. Verna could not guarantee they would not comment to any and every passerby, however.

There's enough color in Auranar's cheeks to see it even in spite of the dark color of her skin, her mouth hangs open and she fairly gawks at the sword in shock. At least it seems that the rest of the spirits in the sword are at least half as scandalized as she herself is. There's a subtle flicker of her eyes and then she smiles warmly at Seldan. "Nothing to forgive at all Sir Seldan. If your weapon is suggesting it, you might well be in need of a... break." She can't help the little amused noise that bubbles up at that and she welcomes him into the room. "Come in, come in."

_Leave Reunion in the hall._ Great idea. Seldan does precisely that, removing the weapon belt that holds the blade in its scabbard and laying it gently down on the stone of the hall, the hilt facing the opening of the door so that it may be readily retrieved if needed. "Boy, you're not going to-"

"Well, he can't very well have talk like that around the ladies, Kanian," a younger, deeper, female voice counters. "I mean, you might, but there's a reason they married you off."

Ignoring the imprecations and ongoing discussion, Seldan quietly closes the door, leaving the sword to grouse with a long exhalation of breath. He's still quite pink - apparently he is scandalized as well. "Perhaps you are right, Mistress Auranar, and you both have my thanks for the welcome. How might I be of service to you?" He does not fully close the door, though.

"The patrols or Seers typically pass quickly," Verna notes, leaving any further suggestive or prurient topics remain where they lie. "I presumed that you sought me out for discussion, unless you drew the lot of escort duty? Regardless, there are baked goods available, if you wish." She gestures to the table of sweets. "Please. Lest Auranar indulge me until I will not be able to pass the doorway."

Auranar makes her way further into the room, rolling her eyes fondly at Verna for the comment about the snacks. "Yes, you're welcome to join us for sweets Sir Seldan." She eyes him somewhat as she settles back into her chair. "Though I had thought that I'd convinced you not to call me by other than my name before? Did I do something to offend you?"

"Forgive me, .. Auranar. It is a habit only. My family serve in the court of Bryn Myridorn." An oblique explanation to be sure, and Seldan pauses, studying the crack of the door he'd left, before turning away and seating himself politely. This is easier said than done, in full armor, but he manages, and it seems to be less heavy than most. "The cell I use when I rest here is in the next corridor over. I in truth was but passing by, although the company of the both of you well pleases me."

He pours himself a cup of tea, then looks to see if either of them need a refill, and will refill anything that needs it before it sets it down again and takes a pastry.

Verna moves back towards the table and retakes her chair. "There is no harm in titles of respect, and your company is welcome, Seldan." She takes a sip from her cup before explaining, "I was just now assuring Mistress Auranar that all shall be resolved and that her aid has been instrumental."

Auranar smiles. "It's quite alright. I didn't realize that you were from a family of knights. In truth I don't mind, but you don't need to hold propriety with me. I don't need any fancy titles." She smiles at Verna, and rolls her eyes again at the use of the title. "In truth it's probably just my own foibles rubbing off. We see in others what we think ourselves at times."

She lowers her eyes then. "In truth, I hold less hope for a great outcome from my efforts than Verna does."

"Your efforts suggest a workable approach, Auranar," Seldan says seriously, once he is done chewing his bite of pastry. "I think the spell within my reach, and certainly within the Mourner's reach. The need is to separate the memory from the ... feelings attached to it." A shudder ripples through him, and he covers it by taking a slow, careful sip of his tea. "For the memory is needful, that we might learn of his plans and thwart them, but the feelings attached are - not easy to resist."

"Indeed," Verna concurs with Seldan, even as she acquires a scone. "I believe the spell is the best option at present. I am familiar with it, and have utilized such on several occasions." Not upon herself, admittedly, but she does not clarify that point. "The emotional context is present, yet the magic should provide adequate separation and barrier. Just as Aura suggests." A nod aside to her with the non-title, not-entirely-her-name appellation.

She indulges a bite of the scone, then washes it down. "Let us discuss the matter in pleasant term, with pleasant company, enjoying pleasant repast, at the least. Too much unpleasantness has been visited on this to date and I would disempower it while yet working against it."

-End