RP:A Fairy Tale Of Ice And Fire

Summary: Khitti manages to find a way to get drunk and Brand tells a sad story. Things finally end up where it should for KhittiBrand, but sadly, it's likely only for the night.

Frostmaw Tavern

It was quite awhile before she came back. First an hour went by, then two, then three. It was well after midnight when the door finally creaked open slowly and a heavily drunken Khitti stumbled in. She tried so very hard to be quiet, but failed utterly, even after putting her index finger to her lips and shushing herself. Unfortunately for her, the room was spinning. So much so, in fact that as she walked, or tried to walk anyway, she literally fell to her right, clung to the table that thankfully happened to be right there next to her, and began giggling incessantly to herself. Well, what sounded like some crazy form of whisper laughing was actually quite loud, and only continued as she fell from her half-hanging position on the table to the floor beneath it, the table falling with her and missing her head by inches. This, uh, was probably not good. Maybe. Yes. Definitely.

Brand had had good intentions. Really, he did. He’d meant to stop drinking, at least for a little while. He’d meant to spend some time thinking about what he’d say to Khitti when she returned. He’d meant to keep an eye on that fairy tale book, to make sure it dried properly and none of the pages ended up stuck together. Well, one out of three wasn’t too bad. It turned out reading these stories while wasted was surprisingly enjoyable. He was right in the middle of some tale about an ice queen who turned her entire country into an everlasting winter when Khitti stumbled in and made all that ruckus. Quite the reversal of roles from earlier, really. Well, sort of. At least he wasn’t bathing, and she hadn’t stumbled directly into him, but… she’d managed to get drunk? Huh. Brand mentally marked the page he was on, shut the book, and canted his head at her, only observing from his spot in the armchair for now.

Khitti's giggling continued for a bit longer, and then slowly tapered off into silence and what looked like heavy contemplation as she stared at the ceiling. Was she in the right room? Wasn't there supposed to be furniture in here? Oh. Right. That's the ceiling. She turned onto side, then flopped onto her stomach, the side of her face pressed against the carpet. "Hey. Heeeeeeey." Her nose wiggled about like that booplesnoot she had claimed to see the other day, "I...smell..." The vampiress narrows her eyes, peering around the room, or what little of it she could see from her vantage point. "a...Brand!" She gasped loudly and pushed herself up off the floor--no wait, that was a bad idea. Very, very bad. "Vhoa..." The audible sound of awe lingers a moment before finally turning to giggling again. "BRAND! Omigawd." She extended her arms in such a way as to keep her balance as she glanced about, finally settling those emerald-colored eyes of hers on the blonde. "BRAAAAAND! Guess vhat?!" The giggling turned to snickering, as if she were trying ever so hard to hide something from him. One step. Two steps. Three steps. She didn't make it far, but thankfully it was far enough because she managed to slip, do a bit of a twirl, and fall into Brand's lap so that she was staring up at him with a huge grin.

Brand scrunched his eyebrows together, then raised one. There was a Khitti in his lap, and she seemed pretty happy about it. “Dunno. Weren’t you s’posed to be mad at me?” He pushed her, gently, just hard enough to get her off of him, and then held her by the shoulders so she wouldn’t fall. As drunk as he was, she seemed… worse. Way worse. “I take it you found a way to get the booze to work on you, though.” He was kind of impressed, truthfully, but it wouldn't do to show it. No, not at all.

"Mad...? Oh. Yes. I'm very mad. Definitely." Now she was standing too, and she sighed because of it, then plopped down onto the floor, her legs practically crumbling beneath her as she muttered an apology for sitting on him, albeit slowly because he held her. "Zhere vas a bad man in Xalious." She squints her eyes, trying to focus on the pattern on the carpet beneath her, but it was all a blur. "He vas touching a voman zhere, so I beat zhe hell out of him and took him outside." It wasn't long before she teetered a bit, then fell backwards onto the floor, her words slurring somewhat as she spoke, "He vas very drunk." Well, it could be assumed what happened after that. "Did you know zhat vhen everyone is drunk, zhey don't notice vhen you feed from zhem?" She didn't happen to say whether they were actually dead or not, her mind wandering as well as her line of sight. "...I vant more..." was said finally, her face contorting into a look of sadness.

“An’ I’m sure you’ll have it,” quipped Brand, rising out of the chair with a sigh, “but maybe you should stay in for a bit, yeah?” What bizzaro world is this, where Brand is the voice of reason? “...Look, peach, your book’s fine an’ everything.” He held it up briefly before extending a hand to her. He’d help her onto the bed, if she’d allow it. But then, she seemed quite content on that floor. Brand wondered if it was as comfortable as she was making it look right now.

Suddenly, there were tears again. Lots of them. Probably more than Brand could handle, to be honest. She didn't take his hand and she didn't seem to care about the book either. She cried, and she cried a lot. This wasn't the pitiful "why do you hate me" sort of crying she'd been doing around Brand as of late, or even the tears that came with her anger. No, this was the sort that she'd been holding in for so long since she'd been back. "...It's going away...and zhe memories are coming back..." Even as the blood-drunkenness started to wear off, the room still spun, and as she tried to get up on her own, she only fell over again, this time onto the seat of the empty armchair instead of Brand. "I need more." She pushed herself up again to stand, and tried to stumble her way back to the door. Apparently, Brand wasn't the only one struggling with his inner self.

“Noooo. No, no no no, no, no.” Brand slid between Khitti and the door, hands on her shoulders once more. (My, Brand, aren’t you being handsy today?) “C’mon, kiwi, you can barely even stand. You gotta stay here for a little bit, because… er...” He didn’t want to outright say he was worried about her, even if that was definitely the case. “Because reasons.” He’d try to steer her backwards towards the bed now, a poor attempt at a reassuring smile on his face. “I’ll, eh, tell you a story or somethin’, okay? It’ll be okay. You’re gonna be fine.” Yes, Brand. Two drunk people laying on a bed with unresolved tension between them. What could possibly go wrong?

Khitti struggled against Brand as he tried to push her back onto the bed, her fists flying as wildly as a drunk person can, hitting him in the chest. "Let me go! I need more!" She pauses for a moment, the crying continuing, "I can't...I can't do zhis..." For a hot second she almost seems like herself, her vampiric abilities taking over as she shoves him to the side and steps around him. It's gone in a flash however as she only gets a few steps and trips on the edge of the table that she herself overturned, and somehow manages to not impale herself with the leg that was sticking up. Who knows how she did that. It's like, magic or something.

“Fine. Have it your way. I'm sure the floor is very comfortable.” Brand threw up his hands and crossed back to the table his drinks were housed on -- thankfully not the same one Khitti had toppled. The glass raised to his lips… and then he hesitated, peering sideways down at her crumpled form. “You really can't handle your liquor, can you?” he grumbled, and set to work gulping down another two glasses, trying to catch up to her level of inebriation. (Like you're one to talk, Brand. Just hours ago you were tripping into Khitti’s bathtub and then lying on the floor pretending to be dead.) “I'll be right back, peach,” Brand continued at length, kneeling down closer to Khitti's level. “Jus’ gonna grab another bottle or two from the bar. You stay here an’ behave for five seconds and I'll come back to read you that story, yeah? Maybe even let ya feed from me, if you really wanna stay drunk that badly.” With that, he'd attempt to slip out the door.

The redhead managed to right herself, and sat there listening to Brand, but she didn't seem to hear him. She sat there muttering things to herself. Things that weren't exactly in Common. After Brand left (she didn't stop him, of course), she'd finally raise her hands to her face and wipe away what was left of her tears. The more the alcohol wore off of her, the quieter she got, her line of sight fixed on the floor in front of the door, brows furrowed in confusion. Only when Brand returned would she speak, and it first it didn't come out in Common. The words she spoke were definitely Drow. Khitti'd shake her head, mutter another apology, and then finally say in a language Brand could understand, "...I've never been drunk before..."

Brand wasn’t gone very long. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was a bit worried he’d come back to an empty room, and a drunken Khitti would be out in the wild on her own. So even with her being morose, with her initially speaking some language he didn’t recognize -- that was still a relief. Brand placed both bottles he’d returned with onto the nearest end table and circled back to Khitti, lifting her up from under her arms with a, “yeah, peach, I can see that,” and carrying her to the bed, once again. “Stay put this time, mmkay? You’ll make yourself dizzy an’ sick movin’ around so much.” Brand sat on the edge of the bed next to her and popped open one of the bottles of bourbon, drinking straight from it and not even bothering with a glass anymore.

"Okay..." was all that was said for the moment as he put her on the bed, the woman more or less a ragdoll in his arms. As he plopped down on the bed beside her, she leaned over against his arm, though it wasn't a clingy, cuddly sort of thing and more 'Oh, the bed is moving? I guess I'll move that way too'. "Vhy haven't you run away yet...? Zhey're going to come for us...and I von't let zhem get you too." A hand reaches over and grabs the arm that she was leaning against, shaking it lightly, "Y-you have to go. Everyone else is dead. Everyone else is..." She falls silent again, tears lining her eyes.

Brand set the bottle down and wiped off his mouth with his sleeve. “The hell are you talkin’ about? Nobody’s comin’ for anyone.” Was alcohol different for vampires? She was making even less sense than he expected. “Did someone hurt you out there?” Sober or very much not, Brand wouldn’t turn down a fight if one was coming. But mostly, right now, he was fighting to stay upright as Khitti leaned against him. She wouldn’t be the only one to feel the room spin, not for much longer.

"You never listen to me. Never..." Well, if that's not one of the most stereotypical things for a woman to say, I don't know what is. "Zhe dark ones, dos xsa'us mal'ai!" She sits up a bit, turning just enough to throw a fist at his arm, "You have to go!" She soon broke down into crying again, shaking her head before resting it in her hands, "Ji mzilt chath..." Khitti looked up at Brand again, "So much fire...so much blood...I can't...I von't go away."

“Mm. Alright, kiwi, ‘fraid you’re speaking nothin’ but nonsense to me.” He rose up off the bed and pulled the sheets down until they met with Khitti’s side. “C’mon now. You’re fine, promise. But I think you maybe oughta lay down a bit, yeah? Leastways, till everythin’ stops spinnin and, eh, bein’ on fire?” He’d… he’d actually tuck her in, if she’d acquiesce. Woah. That might be the first sweet thing he’d ever done for her.

Khitti allowed herself to be guided back into the bed and be tucked in, the tears still flowing, "Y-you vant zhem to take me..." She grabbed the rabbit stuffed animal that Pilar had given her, clinging to it for protection, "Zhe drow vill do vorse zhan zhe necromancers. Xal l'phraktos xxizz uns'aa." Before Brand could move away, she'd snatch up his wrist, staring at it intently, "Please...make zhem go away..."

Brand lingered hesitantly where she’d caught him, but ultimately took the bottles with him to the opposite side of the bed and flopped atop it. “You’re jus’ dreamin’ things. None of it’s gorram real.” He sighed and leaned back against the headboard, hugging one of the bottles to his chest but not chugging more of it just yet. “Jus’... you need a distraction, yeah? Head’s not in a good space?” Heh. He might know a thing or two about that. That book from before was picked up again, and he opened it to a random page in the middle. “...You like mermaid stories, right peach?”

Khitti frowned deeply, letting him go as she buried herself further beneath the blankets. "Mermaid...?", she murmured. Pulling the blankets with her, she settled herself better onto the pillow, eyeing the book in his hands. "Under zhe sea...under zhe sea..." was said softly in a sing-song sort of tone. "Everything's better down vhere it's vetter...under the sea..." Somehow, this strange song actually makes her sad again, and she turns on her back and sighs heavily, awaiting the first official story time with Brand.

Brand’s gaze jumped back and forth from Khitti to the book. The page he was turned to was actually about a fallen angel that lusted for greater power and a long string of women. Hmm. Not exactly a calming story, he supposed. He flipped to a different page, but this one was about a war between people with magic and people without. Brand especially liked the one who could move metal with his mind, but that wasn’t a suitable story for Khitti, either. He tried again. This page was about a young, charismatic man who lived alone and had an obsession with -- oh. No. No, we’re definitely not reading that one. He’d just… he’d just make up his own story. Yeah. What could possibly go wrong? “Once upon a time, in a far away land…” That was always how the stories started. At least that part he’d know he got right. “...there was a warrior who fought dreadful battles for a fearsome leader. We’ll, eh, get to the part about the mermaid. Jus’ wait.”

Khitti lifted the stuffed rabbit so it came to sit on her chest. She picked up it's little arms, forcing the thing to fight. It punched at the air, Khitti making soft 'pew pew pew' sounds to go along with it as she listened to Brand. She'd turn on her side, lean over, and have the rabbit lightly hit Brand on the cheek. "I bet he vas amazing."

Brand shrugged and took another heavy swig of drink. “He was pretty good. Didn’t like fightin’, though. Wasn’t his idea to start fightin’ an’ spyin’ an’ all, he jus’ kinda got swept up with it.” Brand cleared his throat. “Anywho, one day this warrior fellow was sent into enemy territory to kill a mermaid they kept there. Not one of the ones that eat people, like here -- this one was a beautiful maiden mermaid, a mermaid admired by many of the man’s enemies and allowed to swim amongst all their rivers and lakes and streams as she pleased. He’d hafta be pretty frakkin’ careful. The man had to pretend to be one of her people to even be allowed close to her, and then get her to trust him enough to be alone with him -- and only then could he end her as he was meant to.”

Khitti continued to play with the booplesnoot, until finally she curled up on her side. She clung to the rabbit like she had before, her gaze fixed on Brand's arm for the moment before finally moving upwards to meet his face, nothing but silence on her end as he spoke.

Brand’s gaze met Khitti’s briefly, then dropped back to the book. He should at least be pretending to be reading from it, right? He turned the page. “Well, says here it didn’t turn out that way. Months passed of the man appearin’ as devoted citizen to her. All those guardin’ her had come to trust him, but still she dismissed every attempt he made to get her alone and finish the job.” He sighed. “Every single gorram one. And there was a lot of ‘em. But he was dedicated to his purpose, or so he told himself, and so he waited it out. His masters didn’t care how long his mission took him, only that he was successful and that he wasn’t caught. An’ so he waited. He waited so long an’ spent so much time near her that he began to fall in love with the mermaid.”

Khitti nodded slowly in understanding as she lowered her line of sight away from him, rolling over onto her back against restlessly. "I probably vould too...Mermaids are great...", she murmured, nodding again, though this time at the stuffed animal. She reaches a hand to the side, over him to grab the bottle he hand, then brought it to her lips in hopes that it would worsen her already drunken predicament, but...after a little bit she felt nothing, and passed it back to him with a sigh.

“Yeah, peach, I’m sure you would…” Brand kinda wished he was that bottle. I mean, what? No. Nonsense. He would take another long drink of his own, though, the moment Khitti returned it to him. “Ahem. So, this man was young, and had never loved before. Warriors like him don’t get a lotta time for that sorta thing, y’know. But it seemed to him that she was everything that was right in a world full of wrong. She had a sharp wit and a soft heart. She was always seen doing somethin’ kind for those less fortunate than she, and speakin’ out against the evils of the world. An’ she could fight, too. That was important. She used water magic to get anywhere she wanted to go, despite her fins, and she used ice magic to defend against danger. And the more he watched, the more he began, in secret, to question his orders. He couldn’t figure out why anyone would want her dead, except that she was well-loved by so many and was close to the royal family of that country.”

Khitti side-eyed Brand as he was talking and drinking. Much like him, she too wished she were that bottle, and that he'd love her as much as he loved that alcohol. But, that wasn't to be, was it? As she did her best to push away the memories of the drow and the elves they had slaughtered, her feelings for the blonde next to her started surfacing instead. It was likely that damned story stirring things up... And speaking of that story, that wasn't one she remembered reading in that book, but right now she didn't remember much else besides someone's past that wasn't her own, so thankfully for Brand, she didn't bring it up. Instead, she just watched him quietly with furrowed brows, secretly wishing she knew a way to get things to work between the two of them and still maintain her relationship with Dominic. There was a way for that, right? She wasn't just doomed to this unhappiness forever? No. She didn't want to think about this anymore. The alcohol was leaving her mind and she wasn't ready to be sober just yet. Interrupting him for just a minute, she turns her head entirely to look at him, and then down at his wrist, a hand awkwardly reaching out to poke at it, "Can I...?" She didn't want to say it. Didn't want to ask. It was still embarrassing and she was certain he thought less of her for it, but she wanted to stay drunk for as long as possible.

Brand lofted a brow at the vampiress, but ultimately acquiesced. He -had- said he’d let her feed from him, after all. But that was before he began his story. He extended his wrist to her, slowly, but he’d not continue in the telling until after she was done. His mind was on lockdown. Nothing would be allowed to leak through. Nothing would escape… except, unbeknownst to him, a vision of this fair-haired ‘mermaid’ and a sense of sweet memory turned bitter by time and bad endings.

Thankfully for Brand, that little bit from his side was naught but a flash, the tiniest of sparks in a long line of much bigger, wilder flames. She took his arm tenderly, almost lovingly (as much as she thought he'd allow anyway), and sank in her fangs. It was different this time, asking instead of just chomping away like she had in Kelay that day in defense of her emotions. It almost seemed like a good idea to do it now, maybe that'd get through to him, but...she hadn't loved him then. It wasn't right and she still regretted it even now, these thoughts of hers slipping over. The vampiress did her best to keep the torrential downpour of her darkest secrets from spilling over into his mind, but they'd have none of that. As she drank deeply, but not so much that it'd kill him, there were flashes of fire, but not of his making. A very tall, redhaired male elf stood amongst the corpses of his family, especially that of his beloved little sister. Poof went the memory, replaced with something older: the elf discovered he had lightning magic at such a young age. And then another memory: A great fire swallowed the bodies of drow that had murdered the male's family. It was like flipping through the pages of a scrapbook that wasn't quite put in order, her own thoughts mixed in. Pilar and her shopping, the red corset catching her eye, a thought of Brand. The elf male in what seemed to be gladitorial matches. Brand yelling at her; he was always angry with her, always so cold. The elf tortured by drow in the most horrifying ways. A flash of Lydia as they played together in Khitti's younger years. Dominic when they were dancing at the coronation. It'd continue back and forth, neither a theme of happy or sad truly set into place. They just were. They were all hers, even the ones that weren't, and as she drank, and that bourbon hit her mind, they ebbed away and stayed away...at least for a little while. She'd retract her fangs from his wrist finally, healing the puncture marks as she often did, then turned away from him in her daze, her back to him now. -Finish your story...or hold me...or drink some more...Do something. Just don't talk about it...please don't...I'm so sorry...So so sorry.- Little did she know, that the single thought that she had come to believe was her own also slipped across their link.

Brand opened his mouth… and closed it again. Open… closed. He thought about doing exactly what she didn’t want. He wanted to ask, wanted to know. But… it had to be that other vampire, didn’t it? The one from the jar. No. He didn’t need to ask, except to know -how- she’d gained that other one’s memories. Another time, perhaps. Brand took one more gulp of bourbon, but… his head was swimming enough already, between the alcohol he’d already had and the loss of blood. He leaned over to move the bottle to the end table -- almost falling over too far in the process -- but managed to right himself and carry on with his tale. “Er. Right. Where were we?” He stared down at the book, still pretending it would have the answer to a question like that. “Hmm. So… one day, the mermaid declared she’d come to feel love for the warrior -- or at least, who he’d been pretendin’ to be. Though they’d not yet been alone, months had passed and they’d spent more than enough time together. It was only then that the man consciously realized that he’d come to love her as well -- even though it was impossible for it to ever mean anythin’. The day she finally allowed him to sit in her private pool with her, he confessed who he really was and why he was really there.”

Khitti outstretched her arm to the wall across from her as she stared at it, her index finger doing a few swirls in front of her, everything in slow motion and her thoughts far away from her now. After this part of his story had ended and allowed him to gather his thoughts to continue, she'd look over her shoulder at him, to let him know she's listening. Mostly. She doesn't turn all the way over though, and in fact, turned back towards the wall.

“The mermaid said…” Brand exhaled, long and slow. “The mermaid said she already knew who he was and why he was there. That she’d known since he first showed up. Said it didn’t matter, said -- said she loved him anyway. That she saw his heart and had determined it was worthy of her...” Brand’s line of sight had escaped the book entirely and wandered off somewhere over by the dresser. Only after he’d trailed off did he seem to realize it, and went back to pretending to read from the book. “They had some time together, but she eventually had to fake her death so that the warrior’s leaders would not find out what had happened, destroy him, and send another after her. It was necessary, but... she could never go out and be among the people again. No one but a precious few could know she still lived.”

Khitti had chanced another glance at Brand, as he was off staring into space in the dresser's direction. Despite her heavily inebriated state, things started to piece together in her mind. The fact that she'd never read that story before and yet she knew that book from cover to cover, the sigh, the way he was definitely -not- reading from that book every so often. This was definitely about him and that other woman. This was...making her uncomfortable. That self-hate of hers flared up again, and this time it was for that kiss in the jar. All the times she'd tried forcing her affection onto him. No, it was definite now: she needed to get rid of these feelings. She pushed herself up off the bed, her legs shaky beneath her, but holding up well enough. Before he could say a thing, she raised a hand as if to say "I'm okay", and then made a circular motion to signal him to continue. Holding onto the dresser, she'd take a few steps, putting distance between them, letting that adorable rabbit drop to the floor on the way to the armchair. Ugh, that hadn't been enough alcohol in his blood. There'd been so much more from the people in Xalious. She'd need an ocean of blood to get rid of all of this, to purge everything in her mind. A nice big drunken blackout would've been a miracle right then.

Brand was oblivious, as Brand tended to be. The alcohol certainly didn’t help. He was halfway through that bottle, which… considering he’d been drinking it straight, was really rather impressive. He’d noticed her move from the bed, of course, but not her demeanor as she did so. “For a time, the warrior and the mermaid were happy, but it was fleeting. The mermaid began to regret the sacrifice she’d made. Seasons passed with her having to live in secrecy, an’ she hated it. She resented the warrior for her choice. An’ when the opportunity arose for her to truly live again… when she was presented with a choice to go back to how things had been before, but with even more power and adoration from her people… she chose them over him. She chose her prior work and her prior life over love.” Brand turned the page again, slowly, as if he didn’t want to read anymore past this point -- even though he wasn’t reading in the first place. “But her prior work meant doin’ away with people like the warrior. And her revealin’ that she was still alive meant the warrior’s life was at risk -- if his masters learned he’d tricked them, there would have been no mercy. So those two who had once loved each other were pit against one another, and they fought to the death.”

No...it had been enough alcohol. For now. As she walked, the room started to spin again. It was either his telling of the story was so well done or her overactive imagination, but she could swear to the gods that she could see all of this play out in her head. The happiness, the betrayal, the fighting. Was the story almost over? She couldn't bear it anymore. She knew what was coming, she knew the end before she had even known the beginning, though just not the how. And now that it was here, now as the story was coming to a close, she didn't want to know it anymore. The room didn't stop circling around her, and somehow, she managed to make it to the chair. Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let him know. He can't know that she knows. He'll never say anything again. He'll never speak to her again. He won't love her anymore. But that was what she wanted now, wasn't it? No, she was far from that point just yet. She'd say it over and over again in her mind despite this, like a spell she'd read in the library, trying to calm herself somehow.

Brand continued on, hunched over the book, brows furrowed. “It was a fierce battle. It waged for days, then weeks. They chased each other across many landscapes an’ they each suffered many near deaths. Her water and ice magic and his fire… though they specialized in different kinds of fightin’, they were evenly matched -- no, if anythin’, she was stronger than he was. They had sparred against one another many times before, after all, when they were lovers. They’d taught each other how to wield one another’s most favored weapons, both magical an’ not. She’d jus’ been doin’ it all longer than he had. But… in the end, the warrior claimed victory. If you could call it that. He tricked her, trapped her… burned her. Watched his one love die right in front of him. Worse -- was the one that frakkin’ killed her. Was his fault she’d been unhappy in the first place. His fault it had to end like this. And…” Brand paused, taking another deep drink of his bourbon. “An’ he got to go back to his masters, those great warlords who ruled his life, an’ they frakkin’ -rewarded- him for defeating their great foe that had rose from the dead twice as strong. They never learned the truth. The warrior would keep the secrets of the mermaid for as long as he remained there.” Brand snapped the book shut, finally turning his gaze to Khitti once more. There were tears in his eyes and a catch in his throat that he just couldn’t quite hide. “I shoulda read you a happier story, peach. Sorry.” That… might be the first time he’d ever apologized to her for anything. He sure picked a hell of a thing to be sorry for.

Khitti had about all she could take. Were she sober, she could've kept it in. She could've hidden those feelings away. Much like him on normal occasions, she could've had a face like stone and her eyes would've been as dry as the desert. There was too much guilt, though. Too much pain. Too much sadness. The tears had started flowing before he'd even finished. It was no wonder to her now as to why he was so cut off from her. She didn't look at him, she couldn't look at him. Instead, she just stared at the fireplace, her hair thankfully hiding her face, keeping him in the unknown about the unfortunate sight she looked at the moment. She didn't speak, she had no words for him whatsoever; his apology had been heard, but...it didn't matter. It was done and over with and now not only did she have those regrets for the way she'd been acting towards him, but for even coming back to Frostmaw at all that night.

She was silent, and he couldn’t blame her. He should’ve told another story. Any other story. Literally, any other story would’ve been better than this. “Too late now,” he said aloud, and staggered off the bed. Woah. That alcohol had hit him way harder than he’d thought. He made his way around the bed, holding onto it for support when needed, and eventually stumbled his way over to the armchair. Over to Khitti. Over to that woman who, dammit, pierced some part of his heart he’d thought dead and buried a decade or more ago. That woman who… sometimes reminded him of -her-, even though it was all seven hells and more to dredge it up again. He’d come so close, but he halted when he’d come within arm’s length of her and saw that brilliant red hair hiding her face. Even this drunk, he couldn’t will himself any closer to her. There was some emotional chasm he just couldn’t quite cross. “Kiwi, y’alright? You still with me, or are you off in that head of yours again? The drinkin’ didn’t hit you too rough, did it?”

Khitti was definitely off in her head again, but certainly not where he thought it was. When she realized he was so very close, she leapt out of the chair and moved to the opposite side of it, putting the furniture in between them. It was too much for her though, that movement. She swayed and had to cling to the nearby table to keep herself upright. Unfortunately for her, in all of that movement, her hair fell away and he could see clearly just how sad she was, how much guilt was written on her face. The room didn't stop spinning now, it circled around her even with her eyes closed, and her head pounded as if someone were hitting her in the head with a hammer.

Brand… caught her. Well, that had been his intention, anyway. He was sure from looking at her that she was going to tumble and hit her head on something and that’d just be the end of her, death by blunt head trauma. So, cursing, he’d rushed around the chair to set her upright again, moved too much too fast with too much alcohol in both of their systems, and… fell hard against the wall with her, her back to him, arms wrapped around her arms. Frak, but she was such a tiny little thing. So lithe, so breakable. He felt like he was only just noticing this as he realized what had happened, realized she hadn’t needed him to rescue her from a fall after all, and released her again with more muttered apologies. His back slid down that wall and he crumpled to the floor instead, head lolling in the drunken haze, slightly curled hands on his knees. He stared at them as if he was looking at them for the first time. “Sorry, sunshine. You were fine. I shoulda left you be. Shouldn’t’ve let you drink from me. Shouldn’t’ve read you that book. Shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be anywhere.” Now that he’d finally started apologizing for something, it didn’t seem he could stop.

Khitti froze up as he caught her, completely tense in his hold. And yet, for a second, just a tiny moment in all of time and space since she'd been back in that winter wonderland she'd learn to call home, she felt...warm. She felt like he might -actually- care. Despite all that she had been telling herself, that she didn't want to love him anymore, that she didn't want to be around him, she knew immediately that that was a lie. And then...it was over with. Gone in an instant. She was cold again. A dead thing without a soul, without a link to the living. She felt awful to think that. She had Dominic, but she was also simultaneously destroying their relationship. Her own knees wobbled, but she took no notice as his apologies started again. "No!" was said with such a stern tone that neither Dominic nor Brand had seen before. It held anger, but moreso it held confidence; she knew -he- wasn't at fault. "S-shut up, Brand." Her words faltered a little, but she kept it together, steeling herself towards any protests from him that might come, her hands clenching into fists, a stomp of her foot given for good measure. "God damn it, it's not your fault. Just shut up." And then silence...and the anger went away...and that quiet, awkward girl both him and Dominic had met so long ago before all of this surfaced and whispered quietly, "It's mine..."

Get it together, Brand. You're tougher than this. You really gonna let some gorram devil of a woman ages dead tear you up like this? “Heh. Nah.” His expression hardened. “All that time with the damned kid’s gettin’ to me, I think.” Brand chuckled, a hint of what might be bitterness to its tones. “You, too. C’mon, you gonna cry over some frakkin’ fairy tale?” He lifted himself back to his feet, clawing up the wall for support as he did so. “We jus’ drank too much, let ourselves get sad drunk. And y’know what fixes that?” He wobbled where he stood, wagging a finger too close to her face and grinning that sort of drooping smirk of someone who almost definitely shouldn't drink anymore. “Morrre alcohol. And cake. Also cake.” He grinned even more broadly. “You like cake, right?” He was gonna push this whole Viera business right on back outta his head. Back into the ground, where it damn well belonged.

Khitti smacked his hand out her face. She smacked it hard. "Seven gods' damned hells, Brand." Welp, there was that anger again. Apparently, it -wasn't- gone. "Is zhat vhat I sound like? Talking about zhese stupid stories all zhe time? My god, you should've let the book burn." The fire flickered in the hearth as she spoke, "It's not a damned fairy tale, Brand! Do you really zhink I'm zhat stupid? I've read zhat book from cover to cover! I know vhat's in zhere!" A pause. "And keep your gods' damned cake. I'm---" She's what? There was a million things she could do right now. There was only one thing she decided on, though, the one thing she thought was the best idea. "I'm leaving." She's leavi---WAIT WHAT?! "I can't do zhis. I can't be around you. I can't. I love you and zhat love is hurting you because of -her-. It's hurting Dominic too. I'm not going to do it anymore. I can't bear it." Stumbling away from him as quickly as she can, she finally makes her way to the closet, rifles through it for her own knapsack (which actually took longer than she wanted because drunk Khitti), then started stuffing some of her belongings into it. She didn't need everything. She didn't need those fancy dresses. She'd never wear them for anyone again.

Brand's mood soured, lightning fast. Before thought could catch up to action he was upon her, snatching the knapsack away from her, flinging it back across the room. "Bloody frakkin' hell, kiwi, but if that ain't the stupidest idea you've ever had in your life I dunno -what- is." He was towering over her, hands in fists, nostrils flaring -- and then suddenly she was flung too, just as easily as that bag of hers, sideways across the bed and onto her back. He closed in again, still leaning over her, hands pressing her down just above the knees, grip just a smidgen too tight. He... wasn't actually going to hurt her, was he? It was looking like he might. "Where the frell would you even go, hmm? Forget me, but what the frak would the kid do without you?" Okay, Brand, you're not fooling anyone. "You think that's funny? You just up an' leave an' to hell with us? The frak's it matter if the story's gorram real or not? What the frak does it matter?!" Well gee, I dunno Brand, you're the one who decided it was important enough to drunkenly tell it. You're the one who's too afraid of intimacy, perpetually half in and half out.

Khitti didn't move after she was tossed onto the bed. She didn't fight back as he held her there, stared down at her, and looked like he was actually going to hit her. He would've done it already if he was going to, right? It's not like she would've tried to stop it anyway. As usual with Brand, she was quite convinced she deserved whatever she got from him. She'd made him angry again. It was a neverending loop. She thought he would've been happy she wanted to leave, would've been relieved. "...It matters because after all zhis time you still love her." The redhead didn't look at him, instead looking past his left side towards the floor. "You can deny it all you vant, but zhe vay you told zhat story says otherwise. Zhe vay you cut yourself off from any attachment vhatsoever does too." She paused, looking down at his hands on her legs for a moment. "I'm not her. I von't ever be her and I can't measure up to how amazing she vas. Zhe her from vhen times vere good, at least. I vish I vas her and at zhe same time, I'm glad she is long since dead because I vould kill her for zhe zhings she did to you." She didn't seem to care one little bit that -he- was the one that killed the woman. It was a necessity. Had to be done. Otherwise, he wouldn't be standing there in front of her. He wouldn't have saved her all those times. She too would probably be dead.

Brand stared, anger and anguish warring on his face, until sometime after she’d finished speaking. He’d never meant to speak of this. He’d never meant to say any of it, ever, to anyone. Khitti seemed to have a way of drawing out his inner thoughts, even and especially when he wanted nothing to do with them. “That’s not even it,” he growled, finally pushing off of her and falling back into the armchair with a grunt. A hand slid down his features, as if he could just scrub away those emotions. All those unwanted emotions. He’d never feel anything again if he had his way right now. “I ruin people, peach. I tried to tell you before, after the first time I turned you down. That’s all I know how to do. I worry I let you too close an’ I do the same to you. Beyond the damage I’ve done already.” His head fell back until he was glaring at the ceiling. “But if I was gonna push you off, I shoulda done so before. Can’t seem to let you go now neither, heh.”

She didn't look at him. Couldn't do it. -Can't- do it. Khitti wanted so much just to pull him into a hug and tell him to shut up again. There was no point. He'd shove her away. Reject her. Yell at her again. Any sort of affection was pointless. It'd just make him angry. Even now when he was drunk, she still managed it. She'd lie back onto the bed instead, her hands coming up to cover her face, to block him out. Even the darkness behind her eyelids seemed to spin, there was no end in sight. "I vas ruined long before zhe two of you came along. I still don't know vhy Dominic sticks around...vhy you--" She shakes her head, her hands still on her face, angrily fighting away more tears. She was so sick of crying. So gods damned tired of it.

An incredibly long silence passed. Brand crossed from the chair to the far end of the bed and picked up the opened bottle again, draining what was left of it. He padded back over to the hearth; even if Khitti never looked, she’d be able to hear that he’d adjusted the logs and set it to a healthier, stronger blaze. If she did look, she’d see he was cross-legged in front of it now, the second bottle in hand but as of yet unopened. His other hand was manipulating the centermost flames, drawing them higher and lower again, then crafting shards of ice and watching the heat lick it into odd shapes before ultimately melting it away entirely. “...I’ve never thought that was true. But I dunno. You’ve got a gorram pull to you I never stood a chance of escapin’, whether I wanted to or not.”

Khitti did hear him moving about, and when he finally talked again she turned to her side and lowered her hands. She curled up on top of the blankets, never taking her attention off of him now that he wasn't directly next to her. She still longed to hold him though, she was sure he certainly needed it right now. He'd much rather run into the arms of that bottle instead. "...I vas so sure ve hated each other..." She sniffled a little, wiping at her eyes, "And zhen I couldn't see you anymore...after Raiez...You vere both gone. It vas like she'd stolen zhe stars from zhe sky and left me in darkness." The vampiress lets out a frustrated growl, "Zhat's so stupid...so stupid." She rolls off the bed, swaying a little as she stood, then went to pick up her bag. It wouldn't get put back into the closet just yet, instead being left on the top of the dresser. "I told you, you should've left me zhere. I've not done a damn bit of good since I've been back. Dominic vould've gotten over it sooner or later. I'm not anything special. He vould've found someone far better deserving of his affection and attention. And you..." She pauses a moment on her way to pick up the table she knocked over earlier, "You've got your vays of coping."

“You need to stop sayin’ that,” Brand growled, never turning away from the fireplace. “It wasn’t true the first time you said it and it ain’t true now.” Another slab of ice formed; he directed the flames into its middle, gradually melting it from its center outward. “Kid would lose his marbles with jus’ me around, hah. I mean, have you -seen- us? Think you’re the only reason he isn’t as mad as you and I. You… ground him.” At last, he turned to look at her. “In a way I can’t.”

The table was picked up as intended, a side glance spared towards Brand to meet his gaze as he finished speaking. "It is true. I'm like zhis chaotic little zhing zhat can't keep still. Vithout an actual place in zhe vorld. I'm like a leaf of zhe vind." She does this weird sort of sweeping movement with her hand, to make it seem like a leaf. She soon brings up it's twin, and smacks both palms together, "And bam! One day, zhe little leaf is going to become stuck on zhe end of a tree branch and tear and split apart in zhe vind until zhere's nothing left of it." Looking away from him finally, she lets out a faint, bitter laugh, raising her right hand to her left shoulder, giving it a bit of a rub, "Guess zhat's already happened anyway." Khitti rolls her shoulders, and then her neck, letting the joints within pop as they may before she takes to pacing in the part of the room nearest to the door. "I can't ground someone vhen I'm not even on zhe ground myself."

Brand staggered to his feet. Why couldn’t she ever just take a damned positive thing for truth when he meant it? It wasn’t like he said such things often. Neither of them were exactly drowning in optimism. “Maybe that’s how you do it,” he sighed, standing before her and halting her pacing with a hand upon her shoulder. “You may float around, but you’re still somethin’ to latch onto. Maybe he an’ I float around too, but… better to be tossed to the winds -with- someone, maybe?”

Khitti didn't look at him again as he stood before her, her line of sight moving to fixate on his hand for a moment. Her fingers twitched at her sides, wanting to reach out, to lead her arms to snake around his form, to bring him ever so close to her, but...they didn't. She stood there, still as stone, her attention lowering to the floor between them, avoiding eye contact. "...Vhat now...? I don't--" Crimson brows furrowed a bit, "I don't know vhat to do now. How to fix zhings. How to move on from zhis."

That hand drew further up her shoulder, but soon enough faltered and was pulled away entirely. Brand turned back for the fireplace, back for the bottle he’d left there. He picked it up and shambled back for the bed until he was sitting on the very edge of his and Dominic’s side. “Dunno, peach.” For all that talking, for everything new he’d shared with her, no answers were any clearer to him than they’d been a day before. “Guess we’re both pretty frakked up, heh.”

Hands curled into fists again as he walked away, and a sigh escaped the redhead. After his not-so-enlightening response, she stood there, hesitating. That movement of his hand hadn't gone unnoticed at all, but then it was gone again. That feeling. The warmth was there and then it was taken away again. This wasn't fair at all, to either of them. Finally, Khitti'd get up the courage and step over to him, standing right in front of him, though leaving a respectable enough distance between the two. "...Brand...?" Another sigh, defeat was imminent, but she figured she'd try anyway. There really wasn't much else to lose. "You're allowed to say no. I von't be mad or upset if you do, and I'll leave you alone to your alcohol too." More hesitation. Was she shaking? She felt like it. Her anxiety was rising steadily like mercury in a thermometer. "...Vill you...hug me...?" She was already prepared for his answer, and yet her mind was also set on the fact that it'd piss him off to be asked such a thing.

Brand… canted his head at her. The bottle was contemplated, and another heavy swig of it taken before he leaned over to place it back on the end table. And then… that stare. Those green eyes fixed on her, the unsure way she held her body, that subconscious wringing of her hands. An eternity seemed to pass with him watching her like that, an eternity of wrestling with all those same questions he’d had from the start. Only, she had this strange knack for toppling one barrier after another. Maybe he should -- no, he couldn’t -- but what if -- and what about -- “I can’t.” [I shouldn’t. You think you’re so broken now, but not the way I’ll destroy you. The way I destroy everything.] The thoughts were spilling and he couldn’t even stop them as he stood again, hands pinning her arms to her sides, at once staggering forward and pushing her back. “I can’t.” Another few steps, a turn, and more slow, wobbling paces. She was against the door now, the furthest spot from where he’d been sitting. He was going to leave her here, where they’d have space from one another. She’d need it, with him rejecting her again. “I can’t.” Hopefully, she understood. She’d probably leave for a little while, but hopefully, she wouldn’t vanish into the night like she’d been threatening to earlier. The kid wouldn’t -- hell, frak the kid. -Brand- wasn’t sure what he’d do if that happened. Gods, but she was crumbling. He could see it. He could -feel- it, through that link they were both trying to wall up their respective ends of. “I can’t,” he said again, more firmly than before. But... he did anyway. He couldn’t not. An arm snaked around her back. His lips pressed to hers before he could remind himself once again of all the reasons why they shouldn’t. He was still thinking that same refrain, that same [I can’t]… but he did anyway.

Everything...it happened so fast. He'd said no. He said a lot of things actually. She understood his reasonings. She was prepared to give up on him forever, to keep him happy, or some semblance of the sort. But, he did it anyway. He'd miss her if she left? Truly? The alcohol in both of them would likely not be kind in the morning. Would he remember? Would she? Would he choose to ignore it? He...he did it anyway? This would never happen when they're sober. They'd never speak of it. She'd move on eventually. He'd wall himself up again. They'd be friends because they had to be, to make it easier for Dominic. This...wasn't a dream, was it? He was actually, really kissing her? This wasn't even what she'd asked for. Just a hug, nothing more. She hadn't even expected that. Just a "Sorry, peach" or even a flat out "No". She wasn't prepared for this at all. Her ankles started to buckle beneath her, but she fell back onto that arm that held her. He did it anyway...and after the shock wore off, she kissed him back. It wasn't like when she kissed him in the jar. She'd been afraid then too, but now...now he was the one that started it and now she was certain the world was going to end. [Zhen don't. Tell me to go away. I'll do it. I run just as much as zhe two of you. Zhis vill be no different. Ve'll destroy each other if I don't...] It would be different, because she wouldn't be running with him, with -them-. She needed them both like she needed blood to live. She didn't pull away from him, though and only moved closer, her arms snaking around his neck to keep herself from crumpling to the ground at his feet.

Brand pulled away, enough to speak aloud but not much further. The thought of an entire conversation through the mind with someone who wasn’t Dominic was still… weird. “I’ve been runnin’ this whole gorram time, peach. An’ what has it got me?” Well, a Khitti, for starters. “If you were gonna run, the time to do it was when the kid first told you to.”

Khitti released him from her hold, her arms falling to her sides. She stares at his lips as he speaks, almost about to kiss him again, so close to it in fact that it showed, but...she didn't. She wasn't going to press her luck with it. The redhead bends herself backwards the little bit to rest her head against the door behind her. Her fixation on his mouth shifts slowly upwards until she met his gaze. She was quiet, even after he'd said something, afraid if she did, he'd let go of her, and things would go back to normal. This -wasn't- normal. It wasn't even close to how things would be the next day. It was the alcohol. It wasn't going to last. That thought spilled over their link and brought tears to her eyes.

Brand didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t know how he’d feel about this tomorrow, or even if he’d remember it. That much, she was right about. There was no sense in denying that. But for now… for now, alcohol was an easy target for blame. For now, he would let the moment overtake him. For now, he’d tell her to shut up -- stealing that phrase she loved to say to him so much -- lock lips with her again, and swing them both around to fall onto the bed, Khitti first.

There was hesitation on Khitti's end after he pressed his lips to hers again and they fell onto the bed. Did he really want to? Or was he just doing it to finally get her to leave him alone? He'd be right if that were the case; he'd likely destroy her heart, and ultimately, everything else along with it. She'd soon say to hell with it though and kissed him back, a bit of fire put behind the action. Her fingertips would find his jawline, tracing it ever so carefully and then working her way up his face and into his hair, committing every part of it to memory, because she knew this would likely never happen again.