RP:To Not Ask Questions

Part of the The Day I Tried To Live Arc

Summary: Krice consoles a particularly lonely Alvina in the Winter Berry Garden. Alvina continues her trend of asking for honesty but Krice rounds it out by telling her not to ask such invasive questions if she always wants the truth. They discuss Khitti's looming expedition, and how they are both involved. He walks her back to Fort Frostmaw. She invites him to be her +1 at Valen's wedding but Krice refuses, saying there isn't anything for him there. Before they part, Krice has a momentary change of heart and tells Alvina he'll be around if she decides not to go to the wedding.

Winter Berry Garden

Alvina sat on the edge of a bench in the snow frosted garden. Her head in her hands, covered by a cascading waterfall of crimson curls. Her emerald eyes are staring heavily into a small pile of snow on her boots. Her fleshed hand is covered in a dark navy glove while her metallic digits are left to brave the frigid element on their own. She’d been tempted, to wear another glove for symmetry but…her mind is awash in so many things she can’t commit herself to a single line of thought. The world surrounding is silent, hushed in snowfall and midnight hour.

Krice was equally silent, a sentinel cloaked in black against the frigid white backdrop of Frostmaw. Gold-streaked eyes watched over Alvina from several metres to the east, his booted feet just touching the edge of the garden. He was at an impasse, needing to speak to the seated woman but reluctant to disturb her. After a brief glance at the cottage further north, he ventured forward to close the space between himself and Alvina, movements naturally quiet save for the subtle crunch of snow underfoot. " Hey," he called gently, hoping to garner her attention without startling her. If he thought anything about her appearance since last they met, he didn't express as much; the warrior himself, for all intents and purposes, didn't remotely look like he had been crushed under the heavy stones of a collapsed fort, his frame strong, skin untouched by injury - save for the bandaging visible around his right palm.

Alvina closed her eyes when she heard the sound of snow underfoot. Thinking it was someone else, she pulled herself upright, clinging to a deep frown. It wasn’t anyone she’d expected in any capacity but a friendly face nonetheless. The corners of her lips drawn up in a morose smile. Her eyes were bright and glossy, the skin surrounding puffy from tears. A sniff flutters in the night air, vanishing into a mild wind gust. Krice moves beside her. “Hey,” she replies, breathless but trying to regain a normal composure. Exhaustion fringes her expression, plain even for a woman who normally wears her heart for all to see. “Please, sit down.” Her gloved hand pats the stone bench, stirring a small powder of snow from it’s home. The bard inhales deeply, drinking in the cold air before repositioning a more believable smile. “It’s good to see you, you look rather well.” Her eyes catch the bandage on his palm but she says nothing for what could she say? They knew so little of each other. Friends in passing, conversations while traveling. He was a hero, and she was just a woman.

Krice 's experience with Alvina had been limited over their years of 'knowing' each other, but even so, it had been enough exposure to let him recognize the rhythm of her; this morose, near-defeated woman was someone he hadn't expected to see. At her invitation for him to sit, the warrior shook his head to politely decline, standing on the path opposite her. " I'm just fine," was his noncommittal reply. The warrior had never been a man who indulged in talk about himself. In deference for her mood, Krice attempted to ease some of Alvina's sorrow by murmuring, " You're too pretty to be sad."

Alvina was caught off guard by this remark. Her smile folds into something more earnest and she laughs, almost bitterly. “And yet…” But the rest of that thought is lost to silence. She didn’t care much to talk of her own suffering. The pair would find themselves at an impasse in this department, it seemed. “Thank you.” Navy coated digits thread back a stray red curl behind her ears while her eyes study Krice’s shoes to avoid his face. “You’re a bit too handsome to go around telling women they are pretty though, don’t you think?” Another laugh, but it feels hollow and distant. “What brings you this way, hero?” The subtle slack in posture is noticeable, to someone with such keen observation as Krice. It’s clear she’s more comfortable with the company, even if she’s been caught weeping alone in the snow. “Are you here to rescue the damsel in distress?” A joke, at her own expense.

Krice didn't like to see Alvina sad; although he was a stoic sort who kept his emotions locked behind well-crafted composure, he couldn't conceal the compassion that touched the edges of his eyes. Her laughter, bitter as it was, did not garner any amusement from him - for there was none to share. Whether or not her return compliment about his appearance would have typically inspired a smile from the warrior remained a mystery, for given their situation, given -her- situation, his expressions were kept to wryness and sympathy. A smirk touched the line of his mouth, however, faint and at least grateful that Alvina could jest that far. In response to her latter joke, the silver-haired enigma tilted his head to regard her with a scrutinizing stare before he asked, " That depends - do you need rescuing?"

Alvina looked up from her seated position only to cast her gaze to the side upon meeting Krice’s stare. “I need something, what I need is still to be determined.” Her lips fold back into a thin line, while she exhales and shakes her crown, disturbing all previously tucked away curls from their space behind her ears. “I’m always grateful for your company, you have a bad habit of finding me at the oddest times.” It’s true, she is grateful but she isn’t sure what to say to him about her situation. She’s only found footing to confess to one person, Khitti, and the vampiress had been an odd but delightful choice. What would Krice have to say on matters of the heart? On life and death? He seemed immortal, unphased by time or the small problems that had begun to eat away at the bard from the inside out. She couldn’t even fake a convincing smile for him. How far she’d fallen. “Company is a great place to start. Reminds us that we aren’t alone.”

Krice pressed his lips together into a light line of thoughtfulness following Alvina's limited replies, allowing him little to acknowledge of her current predicament. It wasn't his business, he understood this, and everyone who knew a fraction about him knew the warrior to be one who kept his own personal matters closely guarded; he could understand further when others wanted to do the same. At Alvina's conclusion, the man lowered into a crouch before her with one knee angled slightly lower than the other, both arms resting over his thighs for his hands to interlock in the middle. " I have to confess - I didn't think I'd ever see you anything but happy." He shrugged a shoulder, accentuating that statement with contradiction. " Though, we don't know each other too well so who knows? Maybe those times we met, your -happiness- was the rare thing." A beat. " In which case, I'm glad to have seen it."

Alvina feels a horrible guilt creep in, it’s there in the way her smile drops. “I actually pride myself on being able to weather any storm with a smile.” Her lips tense, like they try to reform that smile only to falter. “But things have been very hard lately and I…find myself unable to hold on to what little sunshine I can seek.” She bends then, bracing her chin on her palms, supported by her knees to keep their faces level. It looked like they were school children, exchange top secret information. “I want to be the light for any darkness. To cheer on anyone in need. To heal all things broken but…to tell you the truth…Krice I… I’m struggling now.” She couldn’t out Hudson for his illegal business. For almost getting her and their daughters kidnapped. She couldn’t explain how she’d run into a wall with The Knight Commander. How they apparently did love each other, but to no end. He was married to the realm, and she would just be a distraction. Plus…her heart was still with Hudson. Much as she hated to say so. “What motivates you forward…?” She asked, in a small, quiet voice. “What makes you keep going when things are too difficult...?”

Krice didn't appear surprised as Alvina spoke, but undoubtedly he hadn't realized that his encounter with the woman this night would unfold into one so serious, and so fixed in matters of the heart. He listened to the woman as she spoke of her woes without detailing exactly -what- they were, attentive and engaged. Those gold-streaked crimson eyes perused the woman's face in slow, thoughtful sweeps, discerning and scrutinizing the emotions she allowed herself to openly feel, and locking onto the subtler, subconscious micro-expressions under which she had less control - which could potentially tell him more about what had caused her so much sadness. Clearly, the woman was exhausted, unable to be the rock or beam of sunlight for others any longer. At least for now. He parted his lips to speak to that, but when she diverted the conversation and asked after his -own- coping mechanisms in search of something she could perhaps use, the silver-haired man's mouth tensed slightly and he diverted his gaze, looking toward the garden exit. Would the snow there, or the intermittent passersby provide him the answer he needed? His features were still calm, the warrior himself still composed, but Alvina's query had clearly struck a chord deep within him for a shadow settled in his eyes that even people who -didn't- know him would be able to detect; he was troubled in his own way by issues of the heart. " Well," began the enigma at length, redirecting his gaze to the saddened bard with a brow arched in questioning. " What's the alternative?"

Alvina was shocked to read something in his expression. It was alarming! A man she barely knew! But, he made a good point. It wasn’t like she could just collapse in the snow and refuse to forge ever onward. It’s life natural process that time continues, things live and die, change and destroy themselves or are destroyed by others. Nothing remained trapped in a timeless void. Except maybe those nagas she’d heard so little about. It is not reassuring to know there isn’t an alternative. That she must only plow forward because it was how things were. She had two daughters now, that depended on her. Her life was no longer her own. The weight of this realization dips her gaze back into the snow. Chin still propped in her hands, she sighs, admitting defeat. “I do not want to exist simply because it’s the thing to do. I want to drink in sunlight and thrill the day. I want to sprout flowers from the densest soils; I want to pulse with passion and purpose. I don’t want to just be alive…I want to live.” Emerald eyes, bathed in a wellspring of good intentions, search his face. It’s only when she thinks she can help someone else, that they shine so brightly.

Krice lowered his gaze and sighed quietly, Alvina's every word leading him to one conclusion. " Well... This is obviously about a guy," he murmured, deducing that the bard's sadness was an affliction of the heart, if nothing else. The warrior shook his head, fingers flexing around each other before they settled, coupled once more. " No one's stopping you from doing all those things, right?" Returning his gaze to the woman's face, the enigma sought her acknowledgment, her -awareness-. " However crap it feels, it's not keeping you trapped. You can still sprout flowers--can you actually do that, though?--if it's what you wanna do. You can still heal people who need to be healed. You haven't suddenly forgotten or lost the ability." A momentary pause was followed by a wistful, " It's just... a little harder right now, but it won't be, forever." That last word seemed to strike true against the warrior's own nature for he winced - a subtle shift in expression, but noticeable - and thereafter casually diverted his gaze to the snow-flecked ground between his booted feet.

Alvina reached her hands out, letting her chin go to try and touch Krice’s hands. There was something in him that she could feel now that she hadn’t been able to before. He understood. He’d suffered and survived. Most people had. It just felt hard now because… it was always hard at first. Hadn’t she survived Linken? So then, she must be able to survive anything after that madhouse of a relationship. “You’re a good friend,” she said, still keeping her volume low but now it’s backlit with warmth that hadn’t been there before. “It’s hard to fight for something alone. I just needed someone brave to remind me that it isn’t forever.” A smile takes her lips, thin but bright. “I can’t actually sprout flowers or anything like that, it’s just some passion-filled idea. I want to be able to do anything I can to keep other people from hurting, even if I don’t know why…but I’ve been spending so much of my time consoling other people that I forgot to console myself.” The smile stays, lighting her face in the chilled air, a pink streak across her cheeks. She’s careful with his bandaged hand. “What happened?” She asked, searching for something to link them. So they might not part as strangers again.

Krice wasn't an emotional person by his very nature, as so many people who had encountered him could attest to, but Alvina had witnessed subtle signs of it within him this night, something fresh and new that he hadn't yet been able to get a handle on. Even the 'brave' and the 'strong' struggled, sometimes. When her hands found his, he dropped his gaze to those smaller fingers - one set flesh, the other metal - and his own tensed slightly beneath them. He dismissed the compliment of his friendship in favour of listening to the response Alvina had to give thereafter. Her clarification about flower-sprouting earned her a wry expression and he nodded, glad to have -that- little tidbit cleared up and out of the way. Like before, the man parted his lips to respond to the words spoken by his bardic acquaintance/friend when her query after his bandaged hand drew him off that train of thought. With his gaze already down, the man shifted it from her hands over his to the bandaged appendage. Both sleeves of his shirt were down to his wrists, uncharacteristic of him, and the other end of the bandage disappeared beneath its respective sleeve. He withdrew from Alvina upon answering her question, though it appeared as if only to turn his bandaged hand back and forth once in inspection. " Oh - a training accident." He wriggled his fingers, their movement natural and not limited, before glancing through them to the female on the other side. " Nothing to worry about."

Alvina smiled with relief, tilting her head to the side and making a small huffing sound, to show she was satisfied by his answer. “Glad it wasn’t anything serious…” Then, as an after thought. “Sorry I’m talking so much!” Lids flutter over her eyes and she draws back her metal hand to cover her mouth while she yawns. “Forgive me, did you have something you wished to speak with me about?” She can only assume he had been seeking her out or randomly found her. The first made more sense, but she’d naturally assumed the second to be the culprit. The man still held a lowered guard. It was so unusual; she could feel him more like a person and less as a calculated statue beside her. His presence was pleasant, reassuring. “I haven’t seen you since the wedding. I imagine you’ve been busy.” Again, she alludes to wanting to know about him. Her chin tilts itself back upright, allowing her long hair to settle against her shoulders and cheeks.

Krice lowered his arm over his thigh once more as Alvina accepted his answer. It had been the truth, so if she had -not- accepted it, well... that could have got frustrating for both of them. He scrutinized the bandage wrapped around his hand and continued to flex his fingers in subtle, intermittent gestures until the bard's apology drew his attention. He shrugged a shoulder, dismissing her need to apologize, and adopted a thoughtful expression before voicing his own reply. " Oh, I... didn't know you were at the wedding." He squinted slightly at the woman, trying to place her in his memory, and ultimately forgot all about his intended reason for seeking her in the first place.

Alvina waits, patiently with her gaze settled on Krice’s hand while he flexes his fingers and gets lost in some thought process she can’t read on his expression. The silence starts to stretch out between them when she tries again. “Krice?” She offers. She’d been there, seated casually with the rest of the top teir guests. Hudson had run off, and unbeknownst to her, seen Lita and Valrae. Alvina had found herself the startled reception of a moment of Lionel’s time and then the ceremony had moved to dancing with Josleen and Hudson, to the actually wedding which had erupted with debris and heavy stones falling from the ceiling. “You were with a very pretty woman,” She recalled with a careful tone.

Krice blinked casually and returned his focus more directly to Alvina when she spoke his name, the sound of it drawing him clear of his deeper thoughts. A subtle tilt of the head belied his curiosity, his expectation for her to say something further after using his name, but the statement that came caused his jaw to stiffen under cover of all that silver hair and he lifted his chin slightly. The man nodded. " I was," he said, his tone rigid but wistful. " That was weeks ago. I've been busy, yeah." His conclusion came somewhat hurriedly, as if he had only just now remembered the woman's initial statement leading them down this track in the first place: 'I imagine you've been busy'.

Alvina pulls herself upright again, withdrawing from the casual space they occupied for the moment of sharing secrets. It felt as if a door had swung closed, quickly but with remorse. A barrier began to fade back between them as Krice spoke. “Did you look for me?” She asked, simply, allowing him to speak as much or little as he wished. She’d already stepped over her bounds by asking him about something personal. A woman that Alvina didn’t know and hadn’t, seen before or since. Her fleshed hand twitches, trying again to bridge the space and find the top of his uninjured hand. “Can I help you?”

Krice frowned. Did he look for her? " When?" He dismissed the question almost immediately. Talk of the 'very pretty woman' and the earthquake-ruined wedding seemed to have rattled the warrior, and although he still remained calm and composed, it was clear that he had to work a little harder to regain order in his thoughts. As Alvina reached for his hand a second time, the silver-haired warrior smoothly stood and turned from her, taking a few casual steps away as he scrutinized the garden, busying himself. " Actually, I -was- looking for you, specifically," he answered at last, pivoting to face the bard once he was at least two metres away. It was a subconscious attempt to regain the distance, and the safety of those walls, he had harboured prior. " I wanted to ask about something, but you were so sad..." He cringed, slightly. " I'm not even sure if it's a good time."

Alvina let her hand hang in the air, pulling it back slowly watching her fingers curl into her palm in defeat. It had been too much, she’d overstepped her bounds. Damn. Her hand retreats, balled up and pressed against her chest. She looks surprised when he turns back to face her, holding her hand still. “P-please ask me anything!” The bard then tries to stand but her leg is asleep so she stumbles in place, leaning on the bench for support. “You can ask me anything, p-please!” If he hesitates, she’ll feel even worse for appearing anything less than sunny and bright in front of him.

Krice did hesitate, but he couldn't help it; Alvina's eagerness to hear his question--not a particular question, but -any- question--was surprising and for just a moment, he didn't quite know how to interpret it. He didn't even step forward to help her when she stumbled, but as her hand found the bench for support, his left foot shuffled forward and he raised his bandaged hand just an inch from his side to assist her. Clearly he was too late, so the gestures, minimal as they already had been, were forgotten. " Uh...--" Deducing that perhaps it was due to her need to feel useful, her want to help people, it was relatively easy for the warrior to continue their conversation; it wasn't about him, so he spoke freely. " You're going to help a couple of people with something very important, and potentially dangerous. A vampire woman, in particular..." He trailed off, reluctant to say too much.

Alvina flinched, a vampire woman. “Khitti,” she breathed in the space between them, righting herself and looking panicked. “Is she okay? Has something happened?” A beat, while she tries to rein her emotions in to a normal, regulated state. She can’t, it’s impossible. Khitti means something to her. “Do you know her? Is she okay? I finished the masks, they just need to be enchanted. I plan to send them along in a few days … I’ve been worried…” Her words blur together, like one run on sentence laced with concern as she stands before Krice, a good distance still between them.

Krice lifted his chin as Alvina neared, watching her closely through her reaction to his words. He nodded at her correct guess of 'Khitti' as the vampire who needed her help, but then he was silent and motionless to read out the remainder of Alvina's actions and words. By the end, he sought to reassure her with, " Dominic is still with her, and by all accounts, it seems like she's determined to be rid of... her affliction." One could never be too careful how he spoke. Nodding to indicate Alvina once more, the warrior asked, " What do you know about the Shadow Plane - about how they can get there, and get back?"

Alvina shook her head, because she didn’t know much at all. “All I know is that she was worried about their breathing. Some kind of filtration system was required for them to go safely…” A pause, while she narrows her eyes at Krice. “Are you going too?” Seven hells, Khitti had recruited a damn fine team. Dominic (Brand), Krice, Herself and Lionel. They might be the only sort that can see it through. “She asked me to make masks so…you could breathe without fear of being infected. We…didn’t have much time to talk afterwards. She seemed…distressed.” Though, Alvina would be too if she had to combat some internal murderous force she didn’t understand.

Krice pressed his lips together and looked elsewhere, muling over the limited information given him by Alvina. Her query inspired a shake of the head. " Dominic asked for my help, but I need more information." Turning his attention back to the bard, the warrior asked, " The masks you made... What kind of enchantment makes them work? Who has to do it? Just any regular mage?"

Alvina thinks it over, reviewing the schematics with her mind’s eye, tracing invisible components in the air. “It needs to be an alchemist…” She says, slowly while dragging her finger along a path in the air that draws a upward spiral. “There has to be a flow of air, so you can still breathe but it’s complicated magic. It can’t be too harsh and it can’t be recycled air. It has to be new.” Alvina blinks, letting her hand drop back to her side while her eyes return to the present and Krice’s expression. She frowns with concern. “They fit just here,” her fingers draw an outline around her mouth and nose. “Sealing against the skin before the chin, with leather straps at the back to keep them secure.” The bard mimes tightening the straps and removing the mask from her face.

Krice nodded as he listened to Alvina, intermittently gesturing to let her know that he was listening, that he understood. As they spoke, the sadness that once touched his eyes began to fade, his mind now occupied with other, more immediate issues. " I don't think I've ever known an alchemist. What about Dominic and Khitti? Do they know someone?" He squinted one eye slightly, focusing on the bard with thoughtfulness in his expression. " Is that something you can do?"

Alvina holds her frown. “I know an alchemist, Hudson but…” She turns away, to look at something in the distance. “Khitti said she already had someone in mind. She will have them soon, should be getting them enchanted sometime after I imagine…I can’t do everything on my own.” Her attempt at a smile fails miserable, pulling her lips back but dropping them just as quickly to resume her frowning expression.

Krice 's gaze on Alvina intensified when she trailed off. Hudson... The sea-going drunkard, was it? Clearly something about the man was a source of upset for the bard, so the warrior opted not to talk along that vein. Instead, by her concluding words, he nodded and his expression softened with understanding. " Of course not," he agreed, letting silence linger between them for a moment before he asked a gentle, " D'you feel better?"

Alvina blinks, having mostly forgotten why she was upset to begin with. Oh, right. Her bloody heart was being complicated. The hand she tried to reach out and touch Krice with moments before is still balled up against her chest. She relaxes the fingers and lets it fall back naturally at her side. “A bit, yes.” Would that she could be greedy enough to ask to keep his company. He seemed to be wrapping up their exchange. Heroes were always busy, she’d learned that much from watching Lionel. “Did you get what you came for?” She asked, letting their eyes meet if Krice’s golden flecked gaze was still on her.

Krice 's gaze was indeed still on Alvina, as he had been expecting an answer to his query. Of course, she wouldn't feel magically better from this point forward, but if she could find some peace at least in this moment, that was something to be thankful for. Following her query, he lifted his chin thoughtfully before nodding, those gold-streaked eyes lingering on hers. " More or less." Nodding to the garden, he said, " It's cold out here," yet judging by his thin attire, he barely seemed bothered by the chill. " D'you want me to walk you somewhere warm?"

Alvina smiles, his offer to walk her somewhere reminding her of his companionship to Cenril once before. It hadn’t been a glorious adventure, filled with peril. She enjoyed that. The simple conversations, getting to know someone in random bursts of time. That was how the best friendships blossomed and she hoped for nothing less and expected nothing at all. “I’m staying at the Fort for now, and I’d love an escort.” With that, she tucked her arms inside her cloak and fell in line beside him so they could walk together, as equals along the path.

Krice bowed his head in acknowledgment of Alvina accepting his offer, waiting for her to step beside him before he turned to depart the garden. Keeping clear of the snow and various flowers growing in the undoubtedly magical place, he lead her out into the colder terrain of Frostmaw and turned northward, his longer legs and larger stride tempered for the sake of keeping her beside him; an ambling gait, nothing faster. The warrior was comfortable in silence, but it was by no means a silence thick with warning that Alvina do the same.

Alvina finds comfort in the silence. Sometimes, it’s nice to not have to put on a brave face or explain how you feel. Existing in the same space as someone, without words, can be just as healing as pouring out your heart and soul. The bard imagined she’d done enough pouring out of heart and soul for the both of them today and the night was only growing darker. With the way things had been in Frostmaw lately, she’s glad to have him with her. Her emerald eyes watch him as they go, cast between the path ahead and her companion. “Thank you,” she says after a time. It felt like he wasn’t going this way originally.

Krice walked near soundlessly, a natural stealth masking each step - subtle crunching underfoot the only sound to announce his movements at all. He kept his gaze ahead, allowing Alvina an unobscured and uninterrupted view of him as they walked. Her gratitude drew his gaze, however, and he looked upon her as he said, " It's no problem at all." The fort loomed overhead to the north, swarmed by low-sitting fog and free-falling snow from a blanket of white above. White flakes fell upon the warrior, breaking up the noticeable black of his attire, melting in the warmth of his hair and skin. Despite the damp from the fresh snowfall, he still didn't seem chilled at all.

Alvina tried not to stare. She couldn’t help but notice how the warrior didn’t shiver. No goosebumps littered his skin while she tried desperately to shield herself against the occasional gust of wind. Krice didn’t seem to notice. Hadn’t she been nosy enough without tacking on additional questions?? There is still something unsettling about their interaction. He’d dodged away from her touch. It makes sense, surely but…she’s staring at her splayed fingers, protected by navy cloth from the snow. Lionel never wanted her to touch him either. Did something about her touch hurt other people? Hudson never mentioned it, didn’t seem to notice when they’d been together. Her pace slows slightly, lost in this thought as she stares at her hand in silence.

Krice maintained his own pace for a few strides, continuing until he was out of reach before he realized that Alvina was falling behind. Slowing to a halt and pivoting, the warrior turned to regard her past his left shoulder, and the katana hilt visible there, his expression relaxed but quizzical. After sparing a moment to glance at the raised hand in which she seemed so interested, the enigmatic swordsman asked, " What is it?"

Alvina’s gaze remained on her palm, a lazy “Hmm?” hanging in the air after his question. Her eyes, fogged with memories, cleared and she let her hand fall back by her side. “O-oh, it’s nothing!” A false smile, too large to be real tried to occupy her lips. “Sometimes, I forget that these fingers are metal and these are still skin. You really notice the difference in times like these, when it’s cold. So cold your skin stings…but for some reason. Well, it’s obviously because it’s not skin anymore but I’m still not use to it. If I’m not paying attention, sometimes I still imagine I can feel things with these cold fingers.” She brings up her metallic digits, flexing them. They move so similar to real fingers, you might not be able to tell the difference. Snow falls against the metal and melts instantly. After a moment, she shivers from the breeze. “Aren’t you cold?” she asks, as a means to redirect the conversation to something beyond herself.

Krice wasn't remotely daft; on top of that, he was keenly perceptive. He could tell that Alvina was deflecting with an answer that had little if anything to do with why she actually -had- been staring at her hand, but he was interested enough to keep listening, to not interrupt. By the end of her words, he turned to face the woman and took those few steps remaining to close the distance between them. Standing just inside her reach, the warrior glanced down at her fleshy hand before diverting his gaze to her other - the metal appendage. " Not really," was his distracted reply to her query, followed by a question of his own: " How does that arm move? Is it enchanted?" He squinted, seeking to spy visible runes, or sense the magic that might be responsible for its agility.

Alvina dropped her metal arm as if to hide it from his gaze but he should sense magic coming off it in waves. Ancient Avian Technology at it’s core, it was laced with internal veins and intricate systems to mimic real motion. The place it connected, in her skin at the shoulder, Krice would have seen flesh and metal welded as one. It’s a horrible scar that she hides with high neck dresses and shawls at every opportunity. The magic’s source is undetectable. The whole item “flows” with the same magical resonance. “Something like that…” She says, wishing to direct all attention away from her arm if at all possible. The secrets were hers to keep, the soul platform of her craft. Shown to her by Cerinii, her late teacher. Alvina could replicate the procedure but… she was still learning. The magic in her own arm dwarfed the two replicas she had been capable of producing. Emeylan’s leg, and Pilar’s Leg. Though, Pilar’s was a much improved upon version from Emeylan’s. It’s neither here or there. “Why aren’t you cold?” She asked, throwing it back to him. “Are you enchanted?”

Krice studied Alvina's arm for as long as he could, but as she maneuvered it, as she deflected his attention with a succinct answer, he allowed her the privacy she sought. Still, his sensitivity to the presence of magic told him that the metal arm was highly enchanted; even so, any mind would be able to deduce that it had to have been enchanted in some way to be able to move at all, let alone so smoothly. It was craftsmanship of the highest skill. With Alvina turning the conversation back onto him, the silver-haired warrior lowered his brows into a skeptical frown and murmured a wry, " What is this, tit-for-tat?" Question for question.

Alvina was still looking away, keeping her arm hidden. “I don’t see why not, it’s that fair.” She’s blushing, and not just from the snow. It’s embarrassing to have someone stare at you for too long. She doesn’t know what to do with this kind of uninterrupted attention. Can’t they just go back to walking in silence? “Isn’t it fair?”

Krice wasn't looking at Alvina's arm, anymore; he could tell that she was growing uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny, and perhaps that was why he seemed confused at her next words. Seeking clarifcation, the warrior asked through a bemused frown, " Is -what- fair?"

Alvina sighs, frustrated and feeling too vulnerable. “Isn’t it fair that I ask questions back to your questions? Isn’t a tit-for-tat fair?” This was silly. Why was she getting upset? “Maybe we can skip the questions…”

Krice arched a brow and answered in realization with a dead-toned, " Oh." At her suggestion to skip the questions, he rolled a shoulder and turned from the woman, continuing northward at an unhurried pace. " Fair enough. No more questions." A moment's pause followed before he sought to clear the air: " It wasn't my intention to unsettle you."

Alvina couldn’t look at him. She felt foolish for being upset. None of this was his fault; she was just frustrated by her own inner turmoil. “I know…I’m sorry I’m on edge…Please know that I do want your company I’m just…trying to figure some things out. Things I’m not ready to talk about. I’m not mad at you.” A sigh, eyes closed with her head tilted downward, her fleshed arm is wrapped around to hold her other forearm to fight the chill. “You’re always so nice…”

Krice accepted Alvina's apology in silence, perhaps too vaguely for her to notice. He spoke only when she commented on his niceness, a wry smirk curling upward the left corner of his mouth; it hinted at a dimple in that cheek. " I could be an asshole, if it troubles you less." He glanced over at the woman, his jest tempered with a casual, " 'Scuse the language." Noting her struggle to fight the chill, the warrior bent his left elbow toward the woman, offering her a warm limb onto which she could latch. For her fleshy arm, of course.

Alvina gave him a playful grin and shakes her head with disbelief. “I’d rather you didn’t lie to me, if that’s all right with you. I’ve had quite enough of that from other people.” When Krice extends his arm for her to loops her gloved arm into, she hesitates, thinking that thought again. What if touching her is painful somehow? Would he grin and bear it or would he pull away? Should she even risk it? She is suddenly very jealous of whatever pretty lady keeps his company currently. Always a gentleman. After staring at his arm for a few seconds, she threads her arm under his, letting her fingers curl against his forearm lightly. The warmth of his skin breathes through the glove as if the barrier didn’t exist. “T-thank you.” She said, again, starting their pace anew with slow strides.

Krice thought nothing of Alvina's hesitation to take his arm, partly because he was preoccupied by her previous comment. He dipped his head in a nod, acknowledging her wish for honesty. " 'Long as we're agreeing that questions are off the table, telling the truth shouldn't be an issue." His smirk faded naturally as the woman's fleshy arm curled around his, forearm bare by the roll of his sleeve - unyielding in its contained warmth despite Frostmaw's chill. Following her shivered gratitude, the warrior lowered his chin in a nod that didn't continue up, silence once more enveloping the traveling pair. He moved at her pace yet his gait seemed natural despite, allowing Alvina to dictate their arrival while ensuring that they never strayed from the compacted, well-traveled path.

Alvina keeps her mental muses on light subjects. Things like the way snow is fluttering down, eternally present. The way it’s blanketing the ground, even the path appears more like a rug than a road beneath their feet. The crunch of snow heralds their arrival at the Northern Gate, causing the bard to pause alongside her companion. Her lips part, as if she might ask something but they close just as quickly. Better not to ask, she surmised, still wearing her playful smile from before. It was fair enough of him, to offer truth as long as questions weren’t involved. “I’m not too far off from here,” She said, gesturing to the guards and the interior of the fort. “If you have other things to see to, I should be safe now.” While she didn’t want to let him go, it felt like the natural course of things that they should part ways soon.

Krice slowed to a halt naturally beside Alvina, the cessation of her steps causing him to pause. He left his elbow bent at a relaxed angle for her arm to hang comfortably, that hand pocketed, and turned his attention upon the woman at his side. Her hesitation to speak earned a keener stare from the warrior, but the words she opted to use - and his bid that he would be honest in the absence of questions - ensured that he did not further seek to make her talk. After a brief glance sent across the faces of the guards, who regarded him with indifferent familiarity, the silver-haired enigma gently withdrew his arm from Alvina's and turned to face her. " Take care, then," he said, his gilded eyes perusing her features briefly as he turned further to proceed southward once more. " Stay warm."

Alvina pauses, reaching out her hand in the space still between them, ever growing as he walks away. “W-wait, Krice. W-would you like to go to a wedding with me next week? I don’t know if you got an invitation but…It would be nice to see you again.” Her face was pinker, was it imagination or a trick of the light. “Just as friends.”

Krice did wait, two steps taken through Alvina's stammering call of his name before he stopped to glance at her past a shoulder - and the katana hilt visible there. He stared at her expectantly, patiently awaiting the reason for her stopping him. When she voiced it, he furrowed a brow and said, " If you mean 'Valen's' wedding, then yeah - I got an invitation." Lifting a hand, he gestured to accentuate his next words: " Magical thing, bobbing in front o'my face." He wasn't outwardly irritated by the manner of delivery for the invitation, but seemed less than pleased. Lowering his hand again, the warrior returned his gaze to Alvina and murmured a querying, " You got no one else to ask?"

Alvina retracted her arm to her chest and looked at him, veiled through two steps of snow flurries. “It’s not that I don’t have anyone else to ask but…I’d rather just…” Aren’t they supposed to not be asking questions?! “I left Hudson some time ago and I…have been feeling rather lonely. I don’t want to ask you for anything but your company, please don’t misunderstand. If you don’t have a pretty lady to go with to this wedding, well I’d love to fill the space for the evening.” She smiled, crossing her palms across the small of her back and nodded. Lionel wouldn’t want to go. Hudson would have a heart attack if she arrived with the Knight Commander but she didn’t want to go alone and risk seeing Hudson with his sleazy hands all over Valrae in some hot girl dress. It was complicated…but she didn’t want Krice to think she was using him as a stand in.

Krice perfectly understood where Alvina was coming from in voicing her request for a wedding escort. 'If you don't have a pretty lady to go with'... Following that statement, the silver-haired man diverted his gaze from the bard, lowered lashes barely concealing a return of the sadness that had previously overshadowed his expression. Clearly his problems were related to a woman, just as Alvina's were also related to matters of the heart. It took him a moment to sober up in the wake of that fresh reminder of his own loneliness for him to speak, though his expression barely recovered enough to carry believability through his tone to his words: " Well... Considering I apparently ended up buried under the stones of a collapsed fort at the last wedding, I'll have to pass." 'Apparently'? Had he forgotten? His voice softening, the warrior made eye contact anew with his almost-confidant and spoke a gentle, " I didn't know about your history with Hudson. I barely know the guy, himself, but... I'm sorry it's left you lonely. It won't last, I promise."

Alvina felt ten shades of foolish now for daring to ask. “O-of course!” She didn’t remember him being buried under any stones of the collapsed fort but she’d left in a hurry. All the madness of the wedding made it easy to miss details. When Krice tries to make eye contact with Alvina, she turns her face away. Embarrassed and all too brave moments before. Her courage shrank. “I’m glad you’re all right.” No remark on his encouragement. That loneliness would end. It never really ends, she wanted to say. The people you love leave a hole that no one else can fill. They never go away.

Krice must have felt some semblance of awful for Alvina, perhaps even a bit of guilt that he had essentially declined her request to accompany her to Valen's wedding. He hesitated, got momentarily lost in his own thoughts, nodded his thanks for Alvina's gratitude that he was alright, and then spoke further as to why he couldn't go to the vampire's wedding. " Valen and I... Well, we don't really see eye-to-eye. I got an invitation, but I wouldn't feel welcome there." Nodding to the bard, he asked of her, " Do you know him well?"

Alvina waved her hand with a broken smile. “I don’t, we met once before at a theater. He’s a fan of the arts, and knows I’m part of the bard’s guild I imagine…I don’t…really know why I’m going either. We aren’t close friends and I won’t see anyone I want to see there. It’ll just feel awkward and…ah well, as most weddings do now I suppose.” She tries a laugh but it wilts in her throat, shifting to a sigh instead. Her smile gains power and she’s beaming at him so he doesn’t feel bad. Hadn’t she done that enough this evening? “I hope you do help Khitti. She has a good heart, and deserves peace.” With that, Alvina turns her back to start her trek back into the fort unless otherwise prompted to stay.

Krice stood there in the snow, silent and thoughtful in the wake of Alvina's reply. He was perplexed as to why she wanted to go to a wedding which would house no one she wanted to see, and harboured a host whom she barely knew, but he didn't question the woman about it. Instead, he was hung up on her hope that he could help Khitti when she turned to continue northward. The warrior pressed his lips together lightly, thoughtfulness rooting him in place. As Alvina sought the warmth and protection of the fort further north, the slver-haired enigma remained on the path becoming more obscured by fresh snowfall with every second that passed, his gold-streaked gaze drifting westward to the garden from whence they had traveled. So much had happened between them in so little a time, and with so few words. Something else that perplexed him, to be sure. Just before Alvina could step clear of earshot, the warrior called out to her a firm but casual, " Hey." He waited silently for her to acknowledge him. If she did, he would speak; if not, he would leave their encounter at that, two lonely people parting ways once more.

Alvina stopped in place, jarred from her thoughts by Krice’s call. She doesn’t try to shout through the distance but carefully makes her way back to meet him in the middle, heralded by the crisp crunch of snow. “Is everything all right?” She asks, forgetting their bargain with questions. He looked thoughtful, her face mirrored concern.

Krice didn't make Alvina walk far. With her attention on him once more, he knew that he had been heard and moved to intercept her on her way back to him, meeting somewhere closer to the middle. He had no issue with her question - that type of one, anyway - as told by a casual, " Yeah, just fine." After a moment's pause, the warrior offered her a light of hope, albeit small as it was. " Just wanted to say... If you find yourself not going to the wedding, I might be around to not ask you questions." Though he didn't smile as one might have expected, the sentiment was still there; they both needed a distraction from their loneliness.

Alvina furrows her brow at the warrior, trying to decipher this offhand invitation. Was it even really a request for her company? She couldn’t read his intention, but still she tries. Just as it was impossible for her to disguise the balm like relief his words brought her. If she didn’t go…but he isn’t smiling. “You don’t have to do that, for me.” She said in a low tone. “I hope you don’t feel like…you have to save me, Hero.” With this, she’s smiling again. A small joke, between almost friends.

Krice 's intention wasn't anything sinister or otherwise untoward. He hoped to convey that to Alvina by replying to her words with a shake of his head and a simple, " Not at all. You don't need saving, remember?" He twisted just enough to glance southward. He murmured into the snowfall, " Guess I'm not thinking straight..." It was under his breath but not so quiet that Alvina might not be able to hear some of it, if not all. He flicked his focus back to the bard only briefly enough to make eye-contact and utter, " Forget about it. Go inside before your freeze." A quick pivot later, the enigmatic swordsman was once again on his way, stepping briskly into Frostmaw's harsh whitness.

Alvina rushes down the path to reach for his hand; gloved fingers against his wrist lightly if she can catch him. The snow is uneven inside the fort, being trampled by many the travel and carriage through the Northern Gate. “W-wait!” She stutters, trying to hold him long enough that he would stop walking so quickly. Emerald eyes search his face, all the uncertainty is there for her to see. Even if he doesn’t know it. Her smile is reborn, a phoenix in the snow, while she meets his golden gaze. “I never gave you an answer.” She said, coyly. “But I’d like if that should come to pass. Your ‘not asking questions’ has been the highlight of my evening.” A nod, to punctuate the truth of her statement. “Please be careful, where ever you are off to. I’d like to see you back in one piece if you can manage.” Then she lets him go, if she even managed to get ahold of him in the first place. “Good night…” A pause, while she considers him strangely. “Goodnight Krice.”

Krice would have grumbled upon hearing Alvina's plea for him to stop, were he the type. Instead, he settled for the slight tensing of his lips, which she wouldn't have seen given that his back was to her. He felt the fingers of her glove touch his wrist just as he turned to acknowledge her once more, his features relaxed anew. Her coy response did not inspire a smile but touched something in his eyes that lessened the shadows previously settled there. Her scrutiny of him, of course, ensured that the expression was short-lived before he regained composure and erected those protective internal walls once again. Still, he was amenable to her words, her acceptance of his prior suggestion earning her a simple, " Fine." Rather than gift her the customary words of farewell, the silver-haired enigma opted to respond to something she had spoken before echoing her own farewell, his answer earnest but guarded. " I always manage." A dip of the head served as a respectful-enough gesture before he turned to proceed southward. After just two steps, he lifted his previously grabbed hand to gesture flippantly her way without glancing back. " Go inside," he called. " I'm not stopping again." Just in case she sought to.

Alvina watched him go, not yet turning her back on him as he walked away, spouting some nonsense to lay over anything his eyes might have betrayed. Clearly Krice did not care for Alvina. Clearly, he would never know what it was like to be lonely. He needed no one. Those true statements now seemed a little foggy to the bard as she smiled, shaking her head as he waved his wrist around without turning to see her reaction. “Go on then!” She shouted, waiting for him to fade out of sight before starting back into the fort, towards her home.

Krice did go, lowering his hand into a pants pocket - to mirror the other bandaged appendage - as he faded into the white of Frostmaw's wilderness, at last.