RP:Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You?

Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc

Summary: After the Warrior's Guilds' fight with the Everspider, Khitti returns to Larewen's home with a hallucinating Brand. Realizations are voiced, music is gifted, and then everything falls apart again, as per usual with the two.

House Dragana, Vailkrin

Not long after depositing Brand into her bed at House Dragana did Khitti return, having helped Lionel and the undead servants Larewen offered up to bring the wounded back to the elder vampiress’ mansion. ‘Mansion’ never felt like the right word for this house. It was far grander than anything Khitti’d ever beheld, even with all of those noble houses in Dhavislaav. Larewen, with as old as she was, spared no expense for the furnishings and magic that made House Dragana what it was. Even Khitti’s own bedroom, with its awe-inspiring door of blackened wood and the blue sapphire rose and diamond leaves that adorned it, was much more lavish than the inn room in Frostmaw. On the west side of the room, lay the exit that lead to the hallway of bedrooms as well as the staircase to the lower level, and a king-size canopy bed draped in rich shades of purples, greens, and blacks just north of the door itself. A massive fireplace burned brightly on the north side with verdant fire, a part of the magic that weaved in and out of the walls of the house. Just in front of that, in the middle of the room, was an armchair befitting royalty, lined with black velvet, its wooden frame the same charred wood etched with emeralds like the rest of the house, and next to it a similarly designed table with a fresh bottle of whiskey awaiting the Catalian in the bed for when he awoke--he’d almost certainly need it. The east side of the room held a massive bay window, complete with bench with black cushions and purple curtains, a nook fit for any bookworm that liked her silence. And finally, on the south side of the large bedroom, lay the door to the washroom, the doorway flanked by a dresser and wardrobe made of the same stones and wood as the rest of the furniture.

Larewen had been right; not a single thing about the room had changed. A long-brimmed black leather hat and a very old ring, made of gold and adorned with a fire ruby, laid atop the dresser, covered in a thick layer of dust. Most of the room was covered in dust, in fact, as if Larewen allowed no one to enter the room after Khitti was cast out. Only recently had the bedclothes been changed, and the room itself aired out. The redhead’s armor was torn off almost immediately after returning to the house, the duster and corset chucked into the armchair with her weapons, and her boots left beside it. Thankfully, that damned Everspider seemed to mostly hit her with lightning and it had bounced right off the scales of that blue dragon. Bare feet padded across the black carpet, leading the vampiress, that was now only dressed in thin undershirt and her leather pants, to Brand’s side to check on him. She didn’t know what to do; this was different that the last time he’d gotten bit by a spider. Perhaps it was best to just let it run its course. With a heavy sigh, she crossed the room to the window and plopped down into the cushion, unlatched the lock, and pushed both sides of the window open. The warm breeze of the woods was a welcome change to the freezing cold of Frostmaw. Khitti was left to stare at the forest, occasionally offering a glance to Brand, just to see if there was any change, the vampiress curling up near the edge of the windowsill as she tried to forget the things that had transpired in the underground city that’d been not far from here.

Brand must have slipped into unconsciousness again at some point, though he was hardly in a state to be aware of that. The trees had been whispering to him, crowding in around him and forming an incessant chorus of prophetic verse. He’d closed his eyes and willed them to be silent, and that was the last thing he could recall before he opened them again… here. Drums pounded in his ears and the unfamiliar scene swirled and shifted shape in hallucinogenic mist. He could hardly move but for his eyes; his muscles seemed wrapped in a veil and his nerves short-circuited before they could quite reach where they were going. Khitti was the only recognizable thing about this place, and it was this sight that sent him rolling off the bed, collapsing, clawing up one bedpost, collapsing again, and finally throwing himself into the nearest corner, where the walls could do the work of holding him up where his shaking legs half-failed him. Dilated pupils regarded her with fear and anger, when they could manage to lock on her at all. “N-n-no. No more. No more of these gorram dreams, alright? I’ve seen enough.” His tongue lay thick and heavy in his mouth and as dry as Gualon’s desert. His brain wasn’t listening, couldn’t play with the variables or wake him or send him to sweet oblivion. He knew he was dreaming, so why…?

Khitti blinked a few times as Brand spoke, waking her from the reverie of her own thoughts. “Brand…?” There was an obvious frown now as he made his way to the corner, the vampiress slowly moving from her spot near the window, bare feet bringing her to his side with calm, careful steps. “Hey...ve’re at Larewen’s house. It’s alright. You’re safe. I promise.” Along the way, she’d grab that bottle of whiskey, silently hoping the alcohol might set his head right, even just a little. That stare of his, though, was noted once she got close enough, so she stopped just a couple feet away. The bottle is uncorked and slid closer to hallucinating male with a sigh, “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to stop it. Zhe spiders...zhey bit you. Zhe venom seems different from zhe last time zhat you vere bit. You’ve got about as bad luck vith zhem as I do, heh.” The redhead kneeled, then sat back on her legs, eyeing him a bit more before looking to the bed, “You shouldn’t have gotten up. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

“Spiders. Spiders. It’s always frakkin’ spiders, isn’t it? Or Viera. Or you.” Brand leaned forward enough to swipe the bottle into his grasp, falling back against the wall again and taking a heavy swig. And another. And another. He placed it back onto the floor in front of him, between splayed legs, and shot a baleful stare out to the window. “Or those gorram trees whisperin’ like they bloody know anything. If this isn’t a dream, how come they’re still talkin’?” He grinned as if he’d caught her in an obvious lie. “Didn’t ask ‘em to come along here. Don’t wanna hear what they have to say. The hell’s a tree know about anything, anyway? I oughta burn them all; that’d show them what their gorram ‘prophecies’ are worth.” He twirled a flame about his fingertips and lost himself in its glow.

Khitti crawled over to the bed and leaned up against it, stretching her legs out in front of her. “It -is- always the spiders. Or -her-. Or me.” She didn’t watch him as he drank, her arms folding over her chest, “Zhe trees have been talking for awhile now, Brand. To me, at least. Before ve found zhose prophecies. Before ve saw Emeritus and zhe seers. Zhe trees, zhe dead--all of it.” Her own bit of flame lit, and she flicked it the tiny spark over at his, letting the two vastly different flames mix together, melding into shades of pinks and blues. “Zhe trees are older zhan ve are. Zhey see everything. Everything ve do. Everything ve say. Probably some like Emeritus know vhat ve zhink too. Know vhat ve vant. Know our future.” She almost sounded like something he’d dream about, with the way she went on like that. But, she was definitely real. The faint smell of singed hair and skin, that mixed with the various fruit-scented soaps and perfumes she used, was all real, as were the burn marks on her face and hands that had already begun to heal. “I’m starting to zhink I don’t have a choice in anything anymore. Zhings have already been decided.” She paused, still staring at the floor a long while before finally side-eyeing him, “I don’t know if you should be around me anymore. If you’ve still got a choice, you should run.”

Brand doused his flame with a snarl and a wave of his hand. The smoke drifted in curls up to the ceiling. “See, that’s exactly what the gorram trees would say.” He was clambering up the wall again, struggling to his feet. “And this -- frakkin’ -- half-gorram-useless set of legs is just to keep me here, listenin’ to it.” He staggered along the perimeter of walls and furniture, leaning heavily on anything in reach until he came to the window and could clasp it shut again. “There. That’s better. Now you just sit pretty like a good little dream-Khitti, and don’t do any of that… that…” Whatever it was he meant, it only came out as a scowl and a vague, finger-wiggling gesture. He’d spied the exit and begun to make for it, swirling room be damned.

Khitti’s verdant stare remained fixed on Brand as he stumbled his way to the window and closed it, ranting and raving along the way. He wouldn’t make it very far on his way back though, as she pushed herself up off the floor, grabbed his hands and pulled him close. “Stop. I swear I’m not a dream. Have I -ever- been in a room like zhis in your dreams of me? It’s not even been in Lithrydel--zhe ones you’ve told me about anyway.” The vampiress supported his weight, whichever way he decided to lean, but wouldn’t let him move any farther towards the door. “Brand...please.” Her voice took on a pleading tone as she tried to get through to him, her words tainted with a bit of sadness. “I swear, I’m real.”

Brand blew a long, obnoxious raspberry as he struggled against her. It really didn’t take much to lock him in place, not in his condition. She wouldn’t even need to tap into her vampiric strength. “That doesn’t mean anything. Could just be a different one, for all the frak I know.” But still, a dim light in his eyes indicated he was at least considering her words. “You got some way to prove it?” His brows dipped downward, and he wheeled around back towards the window. “Oi, can it! No one wants to hear your creepy gorram poetry.”

Khitti spun Brand about carefully, then pushed him back onto the cushioned bench, “No. I expect not. You’re too damned skeptical and hard-headed to believe anything I’d say right now. Now, stay zhere. Don’t need you vanderin’ about in a house you’ve never been in before, spooking everyone zhat’s injured and trying to mend. I’m probably zhe only one zhat damned Everspider didn’t nearly kill. Of course, you vent and got yourself bit too.” She sighed, stepping away from him for only a few moments to grab something out of the wardrobe--an old violin, it seemed, though not nearly as old as Lydia’s. This one was made of cherry oak and as far as she knew, didn’t have a magical part on it (thank the gods). “You listen to me and not zhose trees, alright?” she said as she took a seat next to him, “Zhey shouldn’t be talking to you anyway. You’ve got nothing to do vith any of zhis.” And so, without another word, she’d begin to play that song she’d written for Lydia ever so long ago; the one he’d heard on their way into the cave to rescue her. It’d always been something she played in the darkest of times, or when things were headed down that path; now was no different, for she’d had a terrible feeling in her gut ever since they met with Emeritus.

Funnily enough, Brand actually stayed put and listened. Before long, he was leaning against the wall of the cove, eyes at rest, with only the occasional twitching in his extremities. Perhaps he was sleeping again -- though, no, there was too much tension still held in his face. No song could cure these worries. “Alright,” he grumbled at length, barely audible over the violin, “Dream or no dream, the music helps.” Opening one eye into a slit, he peered out at Khitti. She’d been granted permission to continue on, it would seem, despite his continuing skepticism.

Khitti side-eyed the blonde, a faint smirk appearing. After a while, the song finished and she began to play something new. “I wrote something, vhen I vas in Raiez’s cave. Something new.” Something for you. “Never did get to write it down ‘cause I’ve been too damned busy vith everything else, but it’s not something I forget easy once I’ve practiced it enough.” She certainly had enough time alone after he’d left with all the rest of the mages in that big escape. The song was slow, the melody almost sad sounding as the bow ran across and plucked at the strings. Her attention would linger on him a little longer before shifting somewhere, anywhere else in the room, her smirk fading into a frown. There were words, of course, but they were silly--at least she thought--so, they’d not be sung; she wasn’t a bard with wondrous vocal skills anyway.

That prelude to her next song stirred something uncomfortable in that head of his. Not more hallucinations, no -- though he could remember it as easily as if they were there in the flesh. He’d argued with Dominic, back in that cave. About whether or not they’d ever escape. About Khitti. The kid had been so distraught when she’d been kidnapped, it had hardly mattered to him if they ever got out or not, as long as he could be by her side. That was how unwaveringly steadfast Dominic used to be -- though lately Brand wondered if maybe Dominic wouldn’t have been most comfortable living out the rest of his days in that jar, if not for Brand’s and Khitti’s agitation. “Tell me somethin’, peach. Just between you and me.” You and me and the damned trees. “What would you do if the kid weren’t around anymore?” It was a dangerous question. Prompted too much thinking, it did. Brand hadn’t been able to get it out of his head for weeks now.

Khitti’s brows furrowed as Brand asked that question--and what a strange one it was--and yet, she too remembered something. Her verdant gaze fixed on him again, watching him as she played, contemplating on what to say. Even when she did speak, the violin radiated with those notes that she’d stored away in her head, albeit a little more softly. “I zhink...he’s been gone for a long time now. Ever since I left...ever since you and I had zhat vision. He’s been about as ghostlike as zhose spirits I’ve been tasked to vatch over.” She paused in her thoughts, averting her gaze away from the blonde again. “I had a dream...vhen Amarrah took over, vhen zhe tried to hurt all of you. It vas still zhat strange realm, vith zhe moving metal boxes and zhe veird buildings and such. Dominic--he…” Neither of them could actually say the word in the dream, and even now she struggled with he. “He died.” The redhead didn’t finish the song; she didn’t have the heart for it now. Setting the instrument aside on the floor for now, she closed the curtains behind them, further blocking out the trees, then got a comfortable as possible on the cushions near him. “I’m zhe reason he’s like zhis now, because I’d made my choice to chase after some stupid dream and he doesn’t vant any damned part of it. It’s too scary, too dangerous. I’m not sure I’d do anything, honestly, if he vasn’t here anymore. It already feels zhat vay anyway and I’m getting used to it.”

“Hmm.” Brand’s eyes had closed once more. He was still nodding gently along to the beat, seemingly unaware that she’d stopped. If he was hallucinating still, at least it appeared to be only music now. “...Dreams don’t mean a damn thing though, peach.” He pried that same single eye open again, though it struggled to maintain focus. “Leastways, that’s what I would’ve told you a few months back. Would’ve believed it, too. More spiritual mumbo-jumbo from those as can’t cope with the truth. But Lithrydel’s got a funny way of makin’ one’s sense of things go sideways.” Brand sighed and shifted where he was slumped, his back cracking as he straightened himself out better against the wall. “A long time ago, I told you I thought I might disappear if the kid didn’t need me anymore. Just startin’ to wonder if I didn’t have that backwards. Doesn’t make sense, but I’m comin’ to grips that damn near nothin’ does.”

Khitti glanced in the Catalian’s direction again for a moment, though didn’t actually look at him, staring past him at the nearest wall or some such. “So...you’re zhe real one zhen? Maybe? If ‘real’ is even zhe right vord for it. You’re most certainly real in zhe usual sense.” There wasn’t any indication in her tone how she felt one way or the other about this revelation. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees as her hands propped up her head, “Hm.” Khitti sat there in silence, regardless of whether or not he decided to answer what could be construed as a rhetorical question, mulling things over. Both him and Dominic had been so sure that Brand was more or less imaginary, but with the way that dream of hers had went, maybe it was as prophetic as those stupid scraps of paper. “Are you going to leave too? I mean, actually, properly leave...if Dominic does go away… I guess you really vouldn’t have any reason to stay here.” Why was she asking this now? Wasn’t she just telling him to run? Well, it’s not like she -wanted- him to go away; it was just safer that way.

Brand threw a single hand upwards. “Leave n’ go where, exactly? And real or not, does it matter?” These questions of dreams and reality were all too frakkin’ philosophical for him. They set his head to pounding -- or maybe that was just the drums. They’d joined in with the violin Khitti had long since ceased to play, reverberating in his skull. But it was better than listening to the gorram trees. “Kid doesn’t wanna do anything but exist in his pretty little bubble, with his teas and his books. Hell, he can say what he likes about whatever the frak that rune stone’s doin’, but I can’t think of a more appropriate spell for him to manifest.” He allowed himself a smirk at Dominic’s expense. “I’ll be his keeper for however long he’s here, but I’ve got no tears to shed if he ever hides in his bubble and never comes out again. S’long as he doesn’t take me with him.”

“I don’t--... No, it doesn’t--” She’d started trying to answer his questions, but thought better of it. Whether or not the hallucinations were gone now, it was clear he was very quickly edging his way into a bad mood (was he ever really out of one?). Khitti sighed heavily as Brand continued on his rant about Dominic, her chin sliding out of her palms so that she could firmly plant her face where it had been in her hands. She didn’t say anything else, didn’t want to make things worse. What she -wanted- to say is that she wished he’d never leave and that she too hoped Dominic didn’t take him with him...but what was the point? He’d just brush it off as sentimental nonsense. Even now with so many months of being able to ponder on whatever the hell it was they they were, it all amounted to a whole lot of nothing, and it only gave her a headache much like the dreams and reality were doing with him. Hell, if there was one thing that’d truly drive her mad, it was probably this.

Brand, meanwhile, interpreted her actions far differently than how she’d meant them. Or maybe he didn’t think anything of them at all except for what they weren’t: an admonishment. “Y’know, time was, you would’ve skewered me for sayin’ that. Always thought so highly of him, of what he could be if he just -tried-. But, I don’t think he wants to try. Not near enough, at any rate, and there’s no helpin’ that if he doesn’t want it. But, I guess you’ve changed enough for the both of you.” Brand’s eyelids finally lost the battle against the heaviness upon them and collapsed shut once more. “It’s a good look.”

Khitti’s hands flew into the air with exasperation much like his own hand had a few moments ago. “Maybe, just maybe, I’m a little bit sick of his bratty, selfish antics too. Couldn’t stand it vith Lydia vay back vhen and I sure as hell still can’t now. I’ve even -less- patience of late. I’m pretty damned sure he vould’ve abandoned Lionel, and Esche, and I in zhe Shadowfell if zhere vould’ve been another vay for him to leave besides my portal. He was just so...so…” She growled softly, instead of actually answering it. “I’m surprised he makes zhe appearances zhat he does anymore. Vhat’s zhe point? Ve either fight or mope or just don’t even talk at all. I don’t vant to just sit around and do nothing like him. He zhinks he’s got so damned bad but he’s still able to frakking breath air! His heart still beats!” Probably wasn’t a good thing for her to dwell on this for so long, because now it seemed like everything she’d bottled up was starting to spill over like a volcano. “And you...you…” She stared at her hands, the appendages lowered back in front of her face. The one he’d grabbed ahold of in the Shadow Plane twitched a little as she remembered that brief show of affection, and recalled how he’d comforted her after Amarrah had committed those murders. “You’re just as confusing, and sometimes as infuriating, as he is. Y-you’re crazy enough to stand by me still after all zhe fighting ve’ve done. After knowing full vell vhat sort of bad stuff follows me around. I still can’t make heads or tails of you, of us. You’re just so different now. Still grumpy and stubborn as hell, “ she chuckled a little before continuing, “but...different.” It seemed like a good ‘different’ though, from the way she spoke. And then, she finally turned her head to look at him, one verdant stare meeting another, a frown accompanying it, “Please, don’t leave. Don’t go, if he tries to take you vith him. Please.” There. She said it and now she felt like crying, but she somehow managed not to--that was a miracle in itself, really. This wasn’t the first time she’d thought about whether or not Dominic would leave her, but now she’d begun to wonder if she’d even care. Brand, though...that was a different story.

“Pfft. I haven’t changed a bit.” Brand eked his eyes back open to meet her stare with a scoff. Grunting, he dragged himself to his feet and promptly tumbled onto the bed, prone. Perhaps the venom was wearing off, or perhaps he’d been having this dream too long and would soon awaken; either way, the feeling was starting to come back into his limbs. Two feelings, to be precise. Pain. Exhaustion. He remembered the journey into the spider’s nest well enough to know it hadn’t been kind to them. “Y’know how many times he’s tried to do exactly that? How many times d’you think I’ve had to save his sorry ass?” He continued without waiting for her response, face half obscured by the blankets. “I figure at least three dozen, maybe more. And that’s just countin’ from the Sunderia onward. Things were at least not actively tryin’ to kill us there; easier to count what was him havin’ a death wish versus someone else havin’ a death wish -for- us.”

Khitti couldn’t help but grin at that scoff of his. She knew better than to believe him. Kinda hard to not notice when he stopped treating her like an idiot--aside from all the other things that’d gone on between them. “And you did a good job of it too, keeping him and yourself alive, “ she offered the compliment once he’d finished speaking. The redhead would eventually follow behind him, but wouldn’t join him just yet. Instead, she’d grab that bottle of whiskey--what was left of it anyway--recork it, and gently toss it onto the bed next to him in case he wanted it again, before going to take his shoes off finally. “No, I guess you haven’t changed at all. Still zhe same old grouchy guy zhat’s always having to babysit -someone-. It’s still a vonder zhat you’ve not set me on fire yet after all I’ve put you zhrough--zhough, I guess you came close quite a few times. Poor, old Brand.” It’s clear she was making fun of him now; even when they were both stressed and tired, it was a nice breath of fresh air every once in awhile.

Brand groaned and reached for the bottle, taking another few chugs from it. He seemed too busy with that to even notice Khitti removing his shoes; in fact, he’d been too out of it to realize he was wearing them at all, so he could hardly miss them. “Oi. You joke, but I’m not sure I’d know what do with myself otherwise. All your ‘bad stuff’ gives me somethin’ to do. Somethin’ I know -how- to do. Cuz you’re sure as hell not gonna see me joinin’ a quilter’s circle with the old biddies anytime soon. If I weren’t helpin’ you out, I’d like as not be followin’ Hildegarde -- still am in a way, I s’pose. Or I’d be freelance, one of those bounty chasers or somethin’. All the kid seems to want is peace and quiet. But me, I’d go mad.” Well, madder, anyway.

Khitti finally crawled up onto the bed beside him, her smirk still clearly written on her face. “Mhm, I’m sure you vould. Zhere’s a problem vith zhat, zhough. You already -are- crazy.” As if to balance out the teasing she was doing, the redhead leaned over his back, her hands finding his shoulders to massage them a bit, fingers easily finding any sore spots he might have. “I probably vould be too, to be honest. Zhe freelance zhing, zhat is. I mean, vhat else is zhere for someone like me to do? I always did vant to open a bakery, but...I’m no good vith people. I doubt it’d vork out.” Khitti sighed, shaking her head, “Vell, I did hear about a clan of sellswords zhat vander about taking contracts. Guess zhe mage guild tried employing zhem vhen ve vere all stuck in Raiez’s cave. S’pose you could do zhat vhen everything goes fifty shades of awful down zhrough all seven hells and I die--since you von’t have someone to get you in trouble. Or, zhere’s always zhe varrior’s guild. Not like you’ve got to get all buddy-buddy vith zhem. Just go, do as instructed, kill some big bads, and go home. It’s nothing you’ve haven’t already been doing. Plus, Lionel’s zhere too.”

“ ‘When’ you die?” Brand asked, craning his neck to shoot her a look before collapsing onto the cool pillows again. “See, that’s exactly that kinda attitude that’ll get you killed. Besides, can’t really see myself joinin’ a guild. I fly better solo.” Nevermind that he’d ‘flown’ by Khitti’s side for nearly a year now, and by Lionel and sometimes the warrior’s guild for at least a few months. “You, though, you’ve gotten better with people lately. Got that whole ‘give no fraks, take no one’s nonsense’ attitude goin’. We get done with all this -- Lemoncakes, gettin’ your sister back, gettin’ you human again -- you open up that bakery. You’ll do just fi-- ow!” He tensed like a skittish cat under her fingertips, cursing; she must have hit some especially tender spot. “Alright, guess this isn’t a dream. Cuz I’m pretty sure that would’ve woken damn near anyone.”

Khitti could only snicker at Brand despite the pain she’d caused him, “I told you it vasn’t a dream, silly. I vas joking about zhey dying zhing too. Do you really zhink I’m gonna get taken out zhat easily? After all zhe times I’ve gotten hurt? Besides, I’ve got you to rescue me, don’t I?” She took great care with that tender spot, her fingers working slowly and carefully until the tension was gone. “As for zhe bakery, I dunno. I guess ve’ll see. I may not have zhe time, between vorking for Hildegarde and zhe guild.” Khitti flopped over onto the bed next to him, mirroring his position, her head turned towards him, “I’ve had a good teacher helping me vith zhat attitude, you know.” Reaching a hand out, she lightly touched his face, “Hey...how’s your head? I, uh, had to knock you out…”

Brand flinched as her hand met his face, though he didn’t pull away completely. “That’d explain all the gorram throbbing. Don’t remember a whole lot except there bein’ spiders everywhere, and a giant black web, and then… here.” He rolled over again and sat up to drain more of the whiskey. Fatigued eyes scanned the room anew, now that he was not so disoriented. “We’re at Larewen’s, you said? Guess that makes sense what with the proximity n’ all, but… you two’ve made up enough that she’s let you back, then?”

Khitti nodded a little as he turned away, “Yeah, I guess so. She, uh...she got bit too. You, her, and Emrith. I zhink Emrith vas still goin’ on about zhat Everspider, but you and her… You started flinging fireballs every vhich vay and she actually stepped in front of me to shield me from it all--called me Illondria, whoever zhe hell zhat is. She took every damned fireball zhat came my vay and I had to put it out, zhen I knocked you out and left you zhere before I vent to help vith zhe damned spider. I...um...” Khitti rolled over, sat up, and slid off the bed, frowning instead of finishing her thought for the moment as she shoved a hand into her pocket, withdrawing the stone she’d taken back from Lionel not long ago. Slender fingers closed around it as she lifted her other, unoccupied hand, making a sort of sprinkling motion with it, like someone sprinkling spices into food,“I guess I can do zhis now…” Snow, with a slight chilly mist, dripped from her fingertips, like a light snow shower (far more tame than any of the storms they’d seen in Frostmaw), the flakes slowly falling to the floor, wisps of shadows clinging to every single one.

Brand watched with interest, though he held a hand outstretched when she was done. She’d need to return that orb to him, now that they weren’t fighting anything. “So what I’m gatherin’ is that you’re gonna be some type of shadow elementalist when all this is through, then. Dunno what you’d use snow for, though. If you can freeze things or make ice, that’d have its uses, but… shadow snow?” He shrugged. “What do you figure it was before? Everything else you’ve got seems sprung from what you had before Raiez, just evolved in some way.”

Khitti was clearly hesitant in giving away the black orb again, the snow coming to a halt as she ever so slowly handed it to him with a frown. “Not necessarily. It’s just...another branch of necromancy. Sort of like how lightning is an offshoot of air, and ice from vater, and lava from fire. Zhe shadows, ice, and fire are all one separate branch and summoning zhe dead is another. My shadowfire didn’t have any equivalent either...I just couldn’t use it yet. Didn’t help zhat I didn’t have a proper teacher vith all of it. Getting screamed at by Amarrah vasn’t exactly my idea of amazing training.” She stepped away from the bed, picking up one of her swords, swinging it about slowly, “You missed it, zhough. I managed to summon all zhree from my swords. It vasn’t snow zhen, either, it vas ice.”

That hesitancy did not go unnoticed, even as Brand shoved the orb into a pocket to be hidden away somewhere later. “We get rid of your ‘friend,’ peach, and you can play with that orb as much as you want. Doesn’t matter to me. But you know me takin’ it back’s as much for your safety as anyone else’s. She’s bad enough without it.” He’d only watched her swordplay for a moment before climbing out of the bed and coming to stand behind her, hands on her shoulders. “Adjust yourself just a touch. You wanna feel the weight up here, mostly -- better stamina. Might not matter much now, but once you’re human again, fatigue will be a bigger problem.” Boy, and didn’t he know it.

Khitti sighed at Brand’s insistence that it’s for the greater good, essentially, that she give him the stone. “I know…” She just left it at that, choosing to let the conversation end there. It didn’t matter what she thought; she’d just get overruled and shut down on everything anyway. Her shoulders tensed a little when he touched her, a glance spared at him for a moment before she adjusted her position as directed, her sword swinging continuing soon after. “Vhat if I -can’t- be human again? Vhat if all zhis trying is pointless?” There was another sigh as she lowered her arm, and the blade, “I’m scared, Brand.”

Brand returned to the bed, sitting on the edge of it where he could see her face. He stared, contemplating, fingers threaded together in his lap. “Look, kiwi,” he sighed at length, “nothin’ great in the history of Lithrydel or anywhere else has ever been accomplished without a little fear, a little sacrifice, and a lot of time. You let Lionel tell you, if you won’t believe me. But you dwell on the fear, you’ll be dead in the water. Sliced through the tendon. Finished.” He drew a hand across his neck, in mimicry of a knife. “It’s an undertaking, to be sure. So you take the steps as they come, focus on what’s immediately in front of you. And if all else fails…” he canted his head, peering down the length of her to the tip of her sword. “Don’t think. Just do. Worry about the consequences later, and so-called prophecies be damned.

Khitti stared down at the floor as he spoke, occasionally peering over at him before turning her gaze elsewhere again. “Alright.” She’d not argue with him (not that there was really anything to argue about right now anyway) and would let the sword join its sibling in the chair once more. Speaking of “don’t think; just do”, Khitti’d move back over to the bed to join him, standing right in front of him. Ever so carefully she’d take his face into her hands and draw his face close to hers, giving him quite the kiss. “Been vanting to do zhat for awhile now. I zhought I’d killed you vhen I knocked you out. Vasn’t a good idea to get zhat close zhough vhen you vere still clearly hallucinating. Dunno vhat you saw vhen you looked at me, but it vas enough to scare zhe hell out of you.” She masked her worry with a smile, releasing him and taking a step back to give him space, “I’m glad you’re not dead. Dunno who I’d argue vith if you veren’t around anymore.”

Brand tensed, as was his way. She could indulge in these shows of affection -- but only up to a point. As soon as she’d finished that kiss he was up and moving past her, picking up the swords she’d only just released. Brand, too, gave them a few swings. He imagined he could cut through the air of awkward in the room if he gave it enough effort. “Don’t rightly recall what I saw.” Swing, swing. Forward thrust. “Prob’ly for the better, given everything else.” Brand blocked a blow from an imaginary enemy. He was moving away now, back towards the window. This was hardly what he should be doing right now, freshly wounded and fatigued and lacking sobriety in more ways than one. “Gifted with a tough skull though, apparently. And whatever I saw,” he stilled before the window, peering back over a shoulder, “s’not like you were -tryin’- to kill me.” He didn’t hold the gaze. It was already flitting off elsewhere, avoiding both her and whatever trees he could still make out beyond the curtains. “Good blades.”

Khitti’s smile disappeared real quick-like when he got up and moved away, a frown replacing it. Good job, Khitti. You made things weird again. She wouldn’t be looking at him, when he’d turned to fix his gaze on her, merely offering an ‘mhm’ towards the comment about her swords. She’d occupied her time with dusting off that long-brimmed black hat of hers that’d been on the dresser, putting it on her head, and peering into the mirror. The ring was snatched up and eyed a moment too before she tried shoving it onto her finger. Of course, it still didn’t fit--never had, and she’d probably never get around to getting it resized. It’s stuffed away into her pocket instead, the hat taken off and thrown over with the rest of her things in the armchair. Maybe she’d start wearing it again, who knows? Doing her best to ignore the awkward that continued to linger in the room, she sighed and turned towards the door, “I’m...going to go down to zhe kitchen.” For once, she didn’t have an appetite, even for something sweet, but it was something that’d get her out of the room and away from him. Khitti didn’t wait for a response from him before taking hold of the doorknob and letting herself out, leaving the door ajar. If he was listening close enough, he’d probably even notice that it wasn’t her normal pace as she wandered down the hallway and then the staircase, her footsteps hurried in order to put a distance between them.

Brand turned towards the door after Khitti left, eyeing the gap she’d left behind her. She’d mentioned Larewen having servants at some point, hadn’t she? Surely, it was safe to leave her to her own devices for a time. He surveyed the room again: the clutter in the armchair, the violin she’d left on the floor, odds and ends scattered about. The room had been offered to her, but she didn’t intend to stay here long, did she? Anything she might take with her was strewn about, easy to spot when she decided to leave. Well, he could at least pick up a bit. The swords he deposited on top of the dresser; his boots got moved to a corner and the whiskey to the table. The violin, though… he held it aloft, gripping it in the same way he’d watched her so many times now, bow raised only just barely not meeting the instrument. The music in his head had faded as the spider venom had begun to wear off, though he only now became conscious of its absence. Hesitantly, he drew the bow across the strings; a single note descended rapidly into a dissonant squeak, startling him. Well. Figures it wouldn’t be that easy. Depositing it alongside the swords, Brand collapsed back onto the bed, staring up into the canopy. It wouldn’t be long before he drifted back into fitful sleep.