RP:Testing Fate

Part of the Time Heals All Wounds Arc

Part of the Planting Seeds in a Memory Arc

Part of the Lunar Tides and Silver Linings Arc

Synopsis: Lanara shows up at the healing hut looking for Penelope. Two two talk about their love life, as the besties usually do, but... as fate would have it, Lanara confesses that she is dying to Penelope. The hut is quiet tonight, for the walls are meant to hold planted seeds, secrets, and sorrow.

Kelay Healer

Penelope :: There is a lighter atmosphere in the hut. One where the sun gleams through the two windows of the hut creating beautiful rays on the empty cots within the hut. The fire crackles within the shack as a pot of water boils against the flickers. Within one of the windows stands a girl with an ease in her shoulders. A content concentration on her freckled features. A spritz of water splashes over some plants that linger and soak up the sun. The healer had been spraying the plants with a spray bottle to keep the moisture on them. The hut was quiet. No child was coughing. No visitor rocking in the old wicker chair waiting for their loved one to heal. The Kelay Healer was at peace after months. Penelope was standing in simple bohemian wear. Brown, cotton, flowy pants, a floral headband entangled in her curls, and a simple flowy white blouse. Outside the hut, Ruari chops firewood and Yerrel feeds the horses. Today is a simple day.

Lanara knows it’s only a matter of time until Tiber figures out that her health is rapidly declining, and so she does as she had promised, she plans a trip to see the ‘hippie’ healer, Penelope Halifax. If anyone could mask this hacking cough and ease the pain in her chest and ribs, it’s her freckle faced best friend! Before she arrives at the clinic she makes a stop at the renowned Chef Gordyn Whamsey’s Kitchen, in Cenril, and she purchases a dozen cinnamon buns. They are still warm as she arrives at the hut and the scent of baked goods wafts through the gentle breeze, the arrival of spring bringing a faint smile to Lana’s face. The neighs of hungry horses reach her tapered ears and she casts a sidelong glance at Yerrel, before her gaze drifts to Ruari, who seems to pause in his chopping of the firewood and stares back at the witch. A hand is lifted to wave, the simplest of greetings, “I brought sweets!” Hopefully the pair will head inside when they are finished with their chores and have a snack, she thinks, as she raps lightly on the door and waits for Penelope to answer. Lana is clad in a pair of faded jeans, an off-the-shoulder canary yellow blouse, and a pair of brown clogs, with her long locks cascading freely to the middle of her back. “Penny? Can I come in?” Normally, patients would just breeze into the building to have sickness or injuries mended, but Lana hopes to treat this as more of a social call than a visit at the clinic, in her case.

Penelope purses her lips a little at one of the plants before hearing the knock on the door. Nel looks up through the window from her plant-tending stupor and sees Ruari lower his hand back down from the mini wave he gave to Lanara. His dreams of pursuing the witch had been over. He knew, so the next best thing was the casualness of supporting Penelope’s best friend. The healer hears the voice chime through the door, and a grin splats across her face with the unexpected visit. “Like I would I ever say no? Lana, get your butt in here!” She hollers with a teasing tone behind it before reaching for the door herself out of impatience--for once. As she opens the door, she notices the cinnamon buns, “Oh, you’re dangerous,” she points to the sugary sweets in her light, playful tone. “Unexpected! How are you?!”

Lanara grins at Penelope’s jest and reaches for the door, at the exact same moment that it’s opened by the impatient healer, and she catches herself just before she stumbles. Ever the embarrassment, Lana steps over the threshold and hands off the box of cinnamon buns with one hand, while she drapes her free arm across Nel’s shoulders and gives her a tight hug. “I am doing great! I missed your pretty face and wanted to drop in and bring some sweets! How have you been?” If the box is opened, perhaps Nel would spy that the shape of them isn’t the typical circle, as each decadent cinnamon treat is in the shape of a heart, and the icing has a touch of pink food coloring. “You have to try them, they are delicious! Gordyn made them fresh this morning!” Lanara clears her throat and playfully jabs Nel in the side, “Sooooooo! How are you and your Catalian suitor doing?” The briefest of pauses. “Ask me! Ask how -my- handsome Catalian boyfriend and -I- are doing?!” The healer doesn’t even get to ask, before Lana’s impulsiveness interrupts, “We did -IT- during our weekend in Frostmaw! It was romantic, hot, unexpected, overdue, and just so perfect! I’m so beyond head over heels in love with Tiber. I can’t even tell you how many times we’ve done it after that night, but guess what?! It’s all thanks to you!” Lana’s cheeks are a darker shade than the cinnabuns. “I wore the pants, his pants, just like you said!”

Penelope reaches for the box before canting her head to the heart-shaped cinnamon delights as she opens the lid. She hugs Lanara almost in an air-pilot mode (considering there are cinnamon buns in front of her). “I thought Sweet-Heart’s Day was like weeks ago?” Though, was Nel -really- complaining? No, instead, she takes one and shoves the treat to take a big bite. Her cheeks fill as she slowly chews, “Lione--” she almost begins before Lanara chimes in instead and talks at a rate where she can hardly keep up. The woman almost chokes on the food in her mouth as Lanara expresses that the brooding man and her took it to the next level. “Oh my gosh!” The Ardelian sort of squeals after swallowing her bite of cinnabuns. “Lanara that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you--” her face then sort of shifts into a quirked brow. “You… uh… wore his pants?” She slowly shuffles back and moves to the boiling pot on the stove before bringing it over to a mug for tea. “Lanara, I didn’t tell you to wear his pants. I said wear -the- pants and be the boss? You know, like the figure of speech?” Penelope then begins to bust out in a fit of laughter. “Glad Tiber thought it was sexy, though. Forget my advice, obviously, though! You’ll have to wear his pants -way- more often! I’m glad you two are -finally- getting somewhere. You two have only been off and on for like… ever?” Penelope reaches for another mug automatically for Lanara to make her a cup of tea, as well. Once Penelope pours, she offers the woman the mug. “As for my suitor, he’s good… I think? Distance is sort of hard. I never know what he’s really up to? We are actually planning to take this group of merchants to Gualon at some point? Since Lionel said I’ve been promoted to a soldier now for the Warrior’s Guild.”

Lanara purses her lips and wears a beautiful ‘what the actual frack’ expression for several moments, as she had truly followed Penelope’s advice, as she had read too deeply into the figure of speech. She was -not- supposed to literally zip up Tiber’s pants and strut around the igloo like she owned all of Frostmaw, and casually invite him back to her cot? How had she royally messed up their -first- time?! It had taken so long for the lycan to actually make a move that she hadn’t questioned any of the advice she had been given, but she’s fairly certain that Meri and Khitti hadn’t fibbed or misspoken when they told her what to do. Scowling, she accepts the mug and blows on the liquid to cool the tea, “Well. Next time I’m going to punch him in the face, because, Catalian’s really enjoy that rough stuff.” Not that she knows for sure, she’s merely passing on advice from two other women who have bedded and wedded men from Catal. (Let’s be honest, Lanara is definitely reading into their words, too! Poor Tiber!) The witch slowly sips her tea once it cools and quirks a brow at Nel’s words, “So, your heroic boyfriend upgraded you to a soldier in the Warrior’s Guild? He -promoted- you?” For some reason, this leaves Lana unsettled, and she rests her mug on the counter and crosses her arms. “You hardly see him and you’ve evolved into this battle queen?” Perplexed, she wonders if perhaps Lionel confused ‘proposed’ with ‘promoted’ but she keeps this thought to herself. “Congratulations!” Is it something to celebrate?! “I just… I worry about you, Penny. You’ve always been a fierce badass in my eyes, don’t get me wrong, but you are more of a nature loving, compassionate, healer... “ The last thing she wants to think about is her best friend bleeding out on a battlefield. “So things aren’t progressing with Lionel? Well… What about with Kyori? Has he returned to the lands?” Last she heard, he had kissed Penelope and then vanished, likely back to his homeland. As the women spill their tea, Lana picks up her mug again and goes to take another sip, when a coughing fit strikes. Sputtering the hot beverage, she presses her fist to her lips and has a hellish bout of trying to fight for control. The force of the cough has tears forming in her eyes and a few drops of blood coat her hand, but she still manages an apologetic smile. “Maybe you have something that could quiet this cough?”

Penelope crinkles her nose, but waves off Lanara’s punching comment about Tiber. The lycan could use a good solid clock in the kisser. The ‘hippie’ would enjoy that very much, so Penelope just nods her head at Lanara. “Well, I mean, he knows I deal with the more healing side of things. But when your helping warriors, you kind of need to know a skill or two?” The girl questions, for she was new to the whole battle-scene. “Thank you!” Though, the smile on the Ardelian’s face begins to melt at the witch’s concern, and so what better to do than take another bite of a cinnamon bun? “You’re so sweet. I know it’s not really -me-, but you know me, Lana. I like helping people, and what better way to do it than helping the other warriors?” She paused. “I mean, Lionel did say that I wanted to marry him in the future. I mean, I’ve been behind him and helping him the past four years. We’ve always collided, and then future me… in the Demon Archipelago--well, I figured it was the right decision.” The girl sips on the mug to wash down the baked good. “Kyori? Isn’t that history? It’s been months. If anything, I could care less about the kiss--obviously because of Lionel--and more about his safety.” She holds up her finger with the aventurine stone ring. “I’ve tapped this, and he had said he would come if I ever did. He hasn’t. I think I took the hint pretty clearly.” A part of Penelope, however, felt as if the man had a bad accident again. As the witch begins to sputter in a coughing fit, the freckled healer looks in horror. “Oh my gosh, Lana. Is that why you came? Here I am talking about stupid social problems,” the girl is quick with the wit and moves to sort through some herbs on the shelves. “Have you tried anything with probiotics? Like a fermented tea? It doesn’t like suppress the cough, but it does help with your intestines to slow that down. But… as for a soothing remedy, peppermint and thyme tea.” The girl lowers out some jars to her best friend before her. “There is also a very rare tropical plant that has particles in it that actually helps with inflammation and swelling. I don’t have any in the hut right now, but I can have some delivered to you. I know a guy.” It was true. She knew a guy. “Are you okay though? How long have you been carrying this cough?”

Lanara is fighting to breathe at this point, but she makes it a point to remember the things that Penelope said around the time she interrupted with the coughing spell. “I’m… Not… Sick.” Perhaps the droplets of crimson that stain her skin are scaring the woman into a confession, or perhaps it’s because she knows that most remedies won’t help her at all, but it’s then that her wet lashes press against her cheeks as she closes her eyes and opens her mouth, “I’m dying, Penny.” The truth pours from those lush lips as slow as molasses, each syllable tinged with raw pain, “No one knows, so please don’t spill a word of this to anyone.” She inhales and exhales a few times, a hand lifting to rub the spot above her breast, as her teary gaze locks on the moss doe eyes of her best friend. “I only have a little more than a week to live. In order to save the elves in Kelvar, in order to cure the plague they carried, I had to use my lifeforce as a sacrifice in a spell.” Her fingers close around the hourglass pendant, “This is worn to hide my true form, which has drastically wasted away from disease, malnourishment, and organ failure. I may ‘look’ alright, but I am very much on my deathbed.” Lanara looks away and shakes her head, “I want to live, I pray for a miracle every night, but the Goddess isn’t hearing my plea. The only hope I have is becoming a vampire, but I -refuse- to be turned by some leech and I would rather be dead than undead.” Sighing, she brings her gaze back to the healer, wishing they were speaking of lighter things again, “Fate doesn’t mean you have to marry Lionel or follow him around like a sick puppy until the end of time. Fate, also, doesn’t mean that I will die. I am determined to figure something out… Because our fate changes with each decision we make that deviates even the slightest bit from our destiny.” Her voice is stronger now as she dabs at her lips with a tissue and rubs the blood from her hand, “I would rather walk my own path and see where it leads, rather than follow the one that the Goddess laid out for me upon the day I was born.” Whereas moments ago the witch looked broken and defeated, she now stands as strong as a phoenix risen from the ashes, and perhaps Penelope would be inspired to be a leader of her story, rather than an avid reader of a predestined tale. Hadn’t she once had dreams to open a medical practice? Was she truly happy being a sidekick to the hero, when she could blossom into her own heroine? It’s nothing against Lionel, or the Warrior’s Guild, it’s just that Lanara knows her best friend's heart and wants to know that if she is to pass from this land, that Penny will be happy. “I just need something to get me by a little bit, because I have tried and failed to tell Tiber… I just need to stop this cough and maybe something for chest pain. You know a guy?”

(1 of 2) Penelope stares at the blood droplets on Lanara’s hand. Most cases, blood droplets meant internal bleeding, so Penelope knew that something was bad. Very bad in this case. Perhaps it was the one patient in all of Lithrydel that the girl sunk herself into a state of denial. Denial of the crimson specks she was visualizing on mocha skin. Moss eyes blink and lift to her best friend’s face. The tea that is held in her hand is slowly lowered to a nearby table. ‘I’m dying, Penny’. The words twist and pour through the air and what was once a lightened hut turns into a thick atmosphere. There is a ringing that comes into the Ardelian’s ears as she feels like the room is slightly spinning as her heart-rate picks up. “Uh,” her eyes blink back what appears to be the blurry lines of on-coming tears, but the healer knows that breaking conduct is not okay. Crying in front of a patient’s death-sentence is not okay, but Lanara was not a patient. She was Penelope’s best friend. Where had the line been? A doe-eyed gaze lingers on the witch’s frame, a thin line in her mouth as she bites back the pain. Lanara’s pain. Her own pain and ache. Penelope had a hard time showing pain and sorrow. The Kelvarian confesses what the pendant represents, and Nel is curious to see Lanara’s true state from the illusion she wears. Then, a ping of strength. The talk of fate. Truth spilling from the girl who was knocking on death’s door. The woman before her wanted Penelope to write her own story. Be the lead character of a story that she needed to write rather than read the tales that pass her through her daily life. Simple Penelope. Who was Penelope? The healer stands there motionless as Lanara speaks of fate and how it can change. Even with small actions.

Penelope (2 of 2) :: Finally, after long anticipation, small arms begin to open and the girl is reaching out for an embrace around her friend. “It’s going to be okay…” With the touch of Lanara, a tear trickles down her cheek as she hugs her friend. “It’s going to be okay…” It was a soothing phrase for the woman before her. “You don’t have to be strong for me. It must have been hard enough to be keeping that in for so long.” Was Penelope mad? Yes. Mad that the witch before her did not say anything sooner, but was the Ardelian going to waste her energy with the last week being angry? No, Penelope Halifax was going to be proactive. The girl pulls back and wipes her face. “I’ll help you. Damnit, Lana, I’ll do anything to help you hang on. We will figure it out. I didn’t spend three months of my life curing a boy to have another be gone. So, yes… I know a guy.” If they were being honest, however, two cents had to be made. “You -have- to tell Tiber, Lanara. You -love- him. He needs to know. Not saying anything is going to even break him more and leave him with unanswered questions. I know he just got you back, but as someone who deals with death often, not giving him a chance to say his peace about it will break him even more.”

Lanara waits for the verbal lashing, but it does not come, because they both know that time is running out and they don’t want to taint their friendship with any bitterness. Penelope is likely simmering inside, but she maintains her composure and tries to lend her strength to Lanara, as they both embrace. The elf trembles and finally allows the dam to break as she bursts into tears and sobs in the arms of her best friend. For so long she avoided physical contact with everyone, even those that she held dear, because she didn’t want to be a burden or to show any weakness. It’s easier to leave the realm unattached, she knows, but Tiber had torn down those walls she had carefully constructed and left the woman a dying damsel in dire distress. “I do love him… So much. And my Aunt Sharna? On her deathbed she said that Tiber and I are soulmates, but we will never have our happy ending. I can’t tell him, Penny… I don’t want to force him to say he loves me, or to irreparably break his heart. We said that we would just take it day by day and live in the moment, but he has no idea that my time is almost up, and we have gotten so close…” The tears fall steadily, staining Lana’s mocha cheeks and dampening Nel’s flowery blouse, but still their embrace continues. Hugging Nel’s frame tightly, she continues to cry, her pain echoing against the walls of the small hut, her sadness reaching the ears of the horses which had been grazing outside, up until this moment. Lana cries for her sister, her friends, the man she loves, her beloved familiars, the adventures she will never be able to go on, and the magic that will seep into the earth upon her death. After nearly a half hour of weeping, she abruptly pulls back from the embrace and dries her tears, apologetically catching Nel’s green gaze, “Thank you for not hating me for keeping that inside… You are the only one I’ve told, and I just felt so compelled to tell you, because I want you to get the most out of your life. I’m sorry if I was out of place for putting in my two cents, but I love you, Nel. You are one of my best friends, and I appreciate any help you can offer… Maybe I can pay you back with some witchy lessons? Pass on a little of my knowledge.” A ghost of a smile is on Lana’s face, as she lifts the mug of tea, which had now gone cold.

Penelope holds Lanara steadily despite her small frame. She does not speak, but only let’s the woman before her… cry. Let out the hurt. The hurt for herself and the others around her. The sobs that wash the walls of the hut create an empty hollow space. For a moment, the earth stands still as it feels as if Penelope and Lanara are the only ones standing together. A hand settles in Lanara’s hair like the nurturer the healer is, and a grim line remains on the girl’s face as it is hidden from her friend. Her heart swells for Lanara’s cries, for the witch had so much she was leaving behind in the world. The echoes reach the outer windows, and the two men who chop wood and toss hay pause to stare at the small building with sorrow. Even if the two could not depict what was being said beyond the hut walls. As the witch comes to a slow, Nel pulls back, “Never. I would do the same.” The explanation that falls from her friend’s lips give the healer a new outlook. She wanted what was best for Penelope. She did not want Nel to have the simplicity of watching other shadows, for she wanted the girl to have… the world tied around the palm of her hand. “No… you would never hurt me, and I would never think that you would,” the girl saw, and Lanara’s words were truly planting a seed in her head. “I want you to know… perhaps if Tiber is not this life and you do walk towards the fate that is calling you, he will find you within another life--happiness can still find you. Just because Tiber didn’t say those three words doesn’t mean it doesn’t cross his mind. He knows you are in it, and he’d be an idiot to string you along.” Pause. “As for witchy lessons, maybe I can sneak in a lesson. I’ve been curious since saving Leon. And it’ll give me reasons to check in on you and spend time with you.” Nel searches Lanara’s ghostly gaze. “Now, let’s stuff our faces with these cinnabuns. Sven knows, we both need it.”