RP:Wounds Left By Your Absence

Part of the Vinabre Cosmetics Arc

Summary: In a chance meeting, Alvina runs into Xiem in Frostmaw Tavern after their work days conclude. She's dropping off samples of Vinabre Cosmetics to be displayed in the tavern and he's treating his employees to a night out. They review the latest draft for the house she's commissioned and discuss the respective scars they carry.

Frostmaw Tavern

It’s difficult to imagine stepping foot inside this old and storied tavern without drawing immediate attention to its centerpiece: a massive fireplace dug directly into the earth, dominating the view from every angle. Its roaring flames have never been extinguished, fed constantly not only by large logs but by scraps of leftovers for its keeper, the fire wyrmling Aodhan. The tavern’s stone foundation, jagged along the walls but sturdy enough to withstand beatings from drunken brawlers, is lined with heartwood and animal skins to keep the fireplace’s welcome heat from escaping. Frost Giant lasses move skillfully among the crowds to serve ale and warm meals, occasionally stopping to regale a newcomer with the stories behind the many trophies hung upon the walls: sabercat fangs, mounted mammoth heads, aged weapons, dented shields, war banners, and a dragon skull hanging central from the ceiling, horns and jaws wrapped in blue chains. Patrons frequent the tavern from a wide host of races, here on trade or even residence. At night, there is dance and music and cheer -- and all sorts of physical contest. Stairs leading to the upper rooms can be spotted in the southwest corner, their steps covered in plush furs to suggest something softer and cozier can be found above. Drargon is the barkeep here, a gruff old war hero with plenty of tales. He’ll speak freely about his beloved battle axe or any of his scars, but for the one: whatever it was that blinded his left eye, he’s not telling.

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Xiembanointh is treating his workers to some drinks after a long day's work. His diverse crew looks well worn and the hard day's work is displayed on their hands or clothes, but Xiem looks like he barely broke a sweat! His coworkers look happy to be in his company and file in to find the longtable reserved for them. Plus, it's payday! He offers a hearty handshake 'sandwich' to Drargon across the bar counter with a genuine thank you for the table and the plentiful bounty laid across it. Some would think it is a celebration of some kind, but from time to time, he rents out the long table and pays for an epic meal for his employees just because. There have been times he joins, but he usually takes this time to review any incoming mail left with Drargon. Even though he has his own office these days, sometimes letters still wind up here. He shrugs off his light jacket to reveal a green plaid and faded button up before rolling the long sleeves just before his elbows. His well worn denim pants are not in any better shape and his work boots definitely got the memo. He is obviously not concerned with the finer things in life. Once he finds a spot at the bar, he requests a pint of stout beer while tumbling through the letters and then he suddenly lights up like a tree at Yule! His son, Tyres, finally got back to him and he read on with the stupidest big grin on his face - obviously brimming with pride. "Tyres finally sent me a sketch of his husband and their kids… -My- grandbabies," he leans over the bar counter to show Drargon, making sure to be on his good eye's side. The barkeep excitedly shares in the joy as if they are good friends, but that is how Xiem affects those around him because he just radiates joy and makes fast friends.

Alvina doesn’t usually find herself at the Frostmaw Tavern afterwork but today found her bringing samples of the make up line she was working on with Brennia. While Frostmaw was a more war and battle centered culture, part of the line’s appeal was inclusivity for the warrior on the go to the fashion models of the world. She wonders if she should suggest it to Demeter, speaking of warrior women. She slips in the tavern, flipping back her cloak’s hood and toting a small bag to the bar. The lively tavern isn’t unusual but there seemed to be extra hoopla taking place; a table full of men cheering and laughing loudly over a huge spread of food and beer mugs in various volumes. Their laughter was infectious enough to encourage a small smile before she reached the bar. This puts her, incidentally, behind Xiem as he gushes over the letter from his son. She glances at the portrait, feeling her smile solidify to something of substance. “What a handsome little family.” She says by way of greeting the men. She hoped Harper would send her such a lovely portrait of her future wife and children (if they decided to have children). “That reminds me, I need to drag my kids to another portrait artist. The way they're growing…I’ll barely have any to remember their baby faces by.” The bard looks, now, to Drargon and offers him the bag of makeup products with a look that’s both thankful and apologetic. She’s sure it’s not any man’s favorite activity to set up a makeup sample display but he’d been good natured enough when she’d asked. She’s not sure her status in Frostmaw didn’t play a part. She hikes a thumb over her shoulder at the rabble at the table when she looks back to Xiem. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume you’re with that band of good time gentlemen.” They were almost all, not surprisingly, dressed in similar attire.

Xiembantointh stands up straighter, the six foot seven stature towering over Alvina, "Mrs. Landon!" He offers excitedly with that huge infectious grin of his, "it is nice to see you again," he adds in a genuine manner and then gives her a closer look to the portrait while pointing out each member as if introducing her to them personally, "that is my youngest son, Tyres and his husband Dummoray with their adopted kids, Aerith and Elred. They are wood elf siblings who lost their parents in a tragic accident," he looks back at the portrait along with her and grins again before folding up the letter to read later on. "I think there are some students at that art school in Shizergrade," he can never say the city name right, "that would probably jump at the chance for experience." He has no idea she's staying there and would feel pretty stupid to find out she already knows this! He watched the exchange between Alvina and the barkeep with interest before politely inquiring, "what is that?" He seems even more perplexed as Drargon proceeds to carefully take the items out of the bag as if they are bombs about to go off at the slightest jostle. Xiem's attention is stolen to the ragtag group of employees of all different races and genders, "oh, yes. We put in some hard work today completing a contract and I figured they deserved a hearty meal and ale, on me. It gives the workers a sense of close comradery," bright azure eyes glance over every face as they laugh and converse while each one holds their own unique background. One of them used to be homeless, a few of them couldn't find regular work after serving time in jail and Xiem has been the only one to believe in them, giving them a second chance at life. Now that they are indoors, she will unexpectedly be able to pick up good smelling scents of sandalwood mixed with citrus when most might assume a hard working man might be all sweaty and stinky from a long day's work. He battles with the idea of offering to buy Alvina a drink like he does for anyone, but decides not to because he doesn't know her husband and that would be inappropriate if taken the wrong way. "Speaking of drawings," he motions Alvina to follow him to a well lit table and pulls a seat out for her. Once she settles in, he helps her scoot in the chair before pulling out a long roll of parchment from the thin cylinder leather tube and smoothing two of them out before her. They are blueprints to the possibility of her home, "just some rough drafts of the floor plan."

Alvina nods, not correcting him on his pronunciation of the school. It took her a while to remember too but she’d spent a lot of time there too so it’s only fair. “I know a couple excellent professors there so I’ll have to snag their input on who to ask.” It wasn’t a bad idea so she’s thankful even if it seemed redundant. The idea of commissioning a portrait of her family, sans her husband, felt like something she’d have to juggle later. She could ask him to come but that too felt awkward. Best leave that for the future. Xiem’s question about the makeup brings her back. “It’s makeup samples.” She laughs, watching Drargon handle it. “He’s kindly agreed to let me set some up here, for our business.” She snags one of the cards off the top of the stack she gave him and handed it to Xiem. Vinabre Cosmetics is woven inside a flowered infinity symbol. “Brennia and I are working on it. Mostly her but I’m just happy to be involved.” She watches the tavern keeper deal with this new ‘problem’ before they move to a different table, giving the man her attention. Alvina can appreciate people being given a second chance at life after a colossal mistake or lapse in judgment. She’d probably do much the same. Well, she would have in her old life, before Hudson’s job made her trust everyone a little less. “That’s a good move as an employer.” They all look happy, this little family of workers plodding along through life. She’s thankful she has Brennia to work with. Working in the Towers was lovely and all but she didn’t have a team of people to work with, so it too got lonely. She was busy with work though, so it’s just an afterthought. He pulls the parchment from the tube and smoothes it on the table top. She recognizes them as blueprints immediately. They’re beautifully designed, but the second one catches her attention immediately. It’s grand. Maybe too grand. “It looks like a hotel.” She says, astounded. All the little bedrooms have their own bathrooms and it even includes space for a study and a breakfast nook. She’d promised to go house hunting with Aira and Lana but…this house looks perfect. “How did you get all this from talking to me for twenty minutes?” She laughs, still astounded. She waves her hand over the parchment. The only catch would be getting Hudson to approve the purchase but he had to know they’d need a house again eventually. It’d be a good time to sell the one sitting abandoned in Cenril. “And this guest room.” She shakes her head, almost speechless. “That’s just amazing.”

Xiembantointh takes a card with unexpected enthusiasm, "heck yeah. I'm sure my son would love to have a sample display at his boutique. He's a tailor that has his own shop and everything. I wore one of the suits he made for me to the party in Enchantment, it was baby pink in color," he says proudly and confidently, but conveniently leaves out the red glitter beard detail. "I'll definitely buy some for my daughter, Cyniarth, she is on this super clean lifestyle lately," he slips the card in his back pocket. "I figured, depending on where you decided to locate your home, the pool area would be a greenhouse instead. This way you can have certain vegetables or fruit you cannot grow in Frostmaw's climate," he leans on the table with one large calloused hand while the other is pointing out the various talking points and in doing so, the ring hanging on a thin platinum chain dangles free from his flannel shirt. The ring is beautiful as the simple, yet elegant design catches the light in the tavern, but it seems he hasn't had the heart to take his ring off to join it with the other on the chain like most widowers do. Alvina's mention of the home looking like a hotel makes his stomach sink down to his shoes and he panics internally that he royalty forked this job up already, "uh… Yes, having seven rooms and all sort of adds to that issue." Quickly he tries to save the mistake, "maybe there can be a two bedroom guest house on the property? That would keep the home feeling less like a hotel while still being accommodating to any guests you may have," he is doing his best to try and fix it, but not in a desperate way. Then when she sounds astounded, he feels even more confused and simply looks down at the lady while still leaning on the table as he tries to find an answer to her question. I mean, he could use the default explanation that he's been doing this for quite a long time, but that sounded too braggy for him even though it is true. "Uh," he stands up straight now and rubs the back of his neck, "yeah, but you haven't seen my waste bin filled with the prior attempts." He rolls up the first one he had laid down since it did not stand out to her as much as the second one and after he stows it away in the case, he lowers down into the chair across from her. "Based on this blueprint," he points at the one she likes again as it is the only one left on the table now, "are there any additions or notes you'd like to add?" He pulls out a stick of writing charcoal from behind his ear and awaits her direction with his left hand at the ready to markup the blueprint.

Alvina’s thrilled Xiem would ask his son on her account. “Brennia will be so happy to hear that, thank you.” She laughs at his mention of the suit he’d worn. “I’m sorry I missed that.” Hudson used to wear coral ties and salmon pollos, once upon a time. It’s a progressive look. Alvina waves away his offer to buy his daughter some. “On the house, word of mouth is good business too. Just tell me what she needs and I’ll send it along.” She’s clearly proud and believes in the brand. The ring catches her eye, making her look to his hand and then down at her own wedding rings that still looped gracefully around her ring finger. It’s hard…she knows. Her circumstances are different but loss has it’s own specific flavors. No one’s is quite the same. Xiem looks flustered and she jumps into reassure him. “No, no I love that it looks like that.” Her hands wave over the layout, forbidding him from making changes. That seems to have relaxed him a little more. “I love the idea of a greenhouse but I’m not much of a planter. I bet my daughter Luna would love it. She’s on a hippie kick lately.” Alvina rolls her eyes again, forever saying ‘teenagers’ as a way to explain the endless antics and special cheat codes she had to keep on hand for her children. Do not use in case of emergency. “All blueprints are like that.” She laughs, picturing her cluttered office with half finished inkings and empty coffee cups scattered in the mess. Emerald eyes scan the blueprint in front of them as he sits down, ready to amend any errors or additions she’d request. “For the breakfast nook here,” she points, trying not to smudge the charcoal. “Could we remove the part of the patio that’s blocking it from the pool and replace it with a large window instead? So we can see the pool?” It was truly the only thing she could think to change. “Honestly, it’s just amazing.” Though maybe she should ask him to send her a copy? “Would you be horribly opposed to sending me a copy of this? I want everyone to look it over and make sure it’s what they want too.” She’d have to send it to Hudson too, so the expense could be approved through his accounts. “The more I look at it, though, the more I think it would be just gorgeous outside of Frostmaw…” She tilts her head, trying to picture a setting that made sense outside of Cenril. “Where would you build this, if it was your house?” She studies his face, listening intently for his opinion.

Xiembantointh is always looking for ways to be a patron on local products or services and will definitely be spreading the word. Xiem waves a hand, "just you wait till the holidays. This year's Yule Ball doesn't even know what is coming," which is probably a patterned suit and 'Yule beard' complete with mini ornaments again, but who knows! "She is into anything with beauty or skin care and highly influences the society in Elimor," so if she thinks he won't be paying for it - she is surely wrong. Xiem doesn't notice her noticing the ring on the chain and therefore doesn't make an effort to stuff it back under the collar of his flannel like he usually does. The dragon visibly lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it since that comment and then his warm friendly grin returns easily, "you scared me for a minute there, Mrs. Landon." The way she is protective of the blueprint does earn a little blush of flattery because it never gets old when a customer truly loves his work enough to defend it like this. His hand holds onto his chest as if to keep his boisterous and jovial chuckle subsided when she mentions Luna, "yeah. My five it all the stages you could think," his palm feels the smooth metal of his late wife's ring. A flash of something dark shifts far off in his gaze, locking on nothing in particular, only for a split second before he casually slips it back under his shirt within its usual hiding spot and the cool feeling of the ring against his sternum extinguishes that anguish for the time being. "Right," he marks on the blueprint, "so we are replacing the glass french doors with large windows," he confirms and then signs the bottom left corner of the blueprint. "Hmmm," he ponders while reaching for the slender cylinder carrying case. "Chartsend is one of those places with constant nice weather so you could use your pool year round and it is such a quiet little township, but it is sort of out of the way on the other side of Venturil there." He seamlessly swaps the other blueprint with the ones she likes and slides the carrying case on over to her side of the table. "I think Kelay is peaceful with a blend of weather and is sort of an epicenter for the major regions like Cenril, Xalious and Larket. Of course you can have a copy, take this so it doesn't get ruined on your travels," he taps the blueprint carrying case before her. "I have a copy back at my headquarters."

When Xiem blushes, Alvina relaxes. He better know how appreciated he is, dang it! “That sounds so cool. Elimor?” She’ll have to pick his brain for more details later. She loves how proud he is of his children! It presses on a little ache, knowing Hudson was endlessly proud of their children too. He just…wasn’t around. She watches silently as he tucks the ring back into his shirt, eyes dark with something she can’t read. He jumps back into the project and she stops him. “You -can- call me Alvina. Even business partners can use first names.” She liked her last name, liked being called Mrs. but she also liked people to be comfortable around her. His mention of Chartsend makes her look away. Not Chartsend. She’d been trapped there the past year and just couldn’t stand the memories of that place. “It is nice.” She agreed politely, not wanting to venture into why she’d decline it. “Just a bit too far, I think.” Again, Kelay just keeps circling around her mind. It’s where she started. It might not be horrible to get back to her roots, replant herself and try to grow in a direction she’d be happier with. When he hands her the tube, she looks surprised. “Oh I didn’t mean -” He taps the case and assures her that he has another copy. She sighs with a grateful smile. “Thank you Xiem. I can’t tell you how glad I am that Brennia recommended your company.”

Xiembantointh is happy to elaborate, “the upper class district of Rynvale where all the wealthy forsaken elves live. I might have said it wrong again, Elimdor,” he corrects himself, “it’s way over on the east side.” He motions as if she’s going to be traveling there one day and he’s trying to give directions. “You can tell I don’t get invited there much,” he shrugs his shoulders up with a coy grin on his lips as a short chuckle escapes. The faded flannels along with the denim slacks with holes in them and the worn in work boots - he is obviously a laborer and doesn’t wear his wealth like the elves on the east side of Rynvale. “Okay,” he nods while trying out her name, “Alvina.” It is a pretty name, but he was just trying to be respectful since every time they interact she is without her husband. Xiem can pick up a sensitive subject easily and decides to drop the topic of Chartsend. He waves away more of her compliments just as his pint of a hearty stout is brought over to him he takes a generous gulp before wiping the foam from his mustache hairs. “Well, Alvina, I think you just did,” he doesn’t want to get all flattered and red faced again, so he moves their conversation forward with that infectious chuckle of his. “Did you just stop by Frostmaw to drop the makeup off? Would you like something to eat or some water?” He has no idea of the little intricacies that shape her life, or if she is familiar with Frostmaw. “Are your kids just as excited to move and have a new place to make their own?” He looks far off in the distance and narrows his gaze for a moment to recall, “Luna, Harper, Bruce and Meadow, right?” Bright and curious Azure eyes look back to the redhead in hopes that he indeed got that right. He feels that familiar ease from before when they met as their conversation feels like it just clicks right along and he enjoys it.

Rynvale. Alvina should know better, she had a lot of close friends in Rynvale. Ranok would be giving her hell if he knew she’d failed this knowledge check so easily. “That sounds right.” She laughs, having no idea. She’s grateful he takes the topic away from Chartsend. The weight on her chest dissipates. “Kids are thoughtless sometimes! I wouldn’t take it personally.” His not being invited to visit. “Cenril’s a mess right now too, so it might be for your own sake.” There hadn’t been news about the outbreak leaking into Rynvale but better to not take the chance. “I did just come for the makeup but it’s a happy accident we ran into each other.” He asks about her kids and she’s still impressed he’d paid attention. “Close,” she laughs. “Bryce, but the girls are right!” It was a weird name, she knew. Hudson’s favorite Cubbies player had heavy weight in how they’d named their kids. “If you follow sports, he’s named after the pitcher for the Cubbies. My husband’s obsessed, so now my son is by proxy. You know, he’s got to be just like his dad.” She hoped, with every fiber of her being, that Bryce didn’t get into Hudson’s world. All of their children better NEVER touch mafia affairs or everyone involved would have Alvina and her wolf to answer to. “I think they might hope we move to somewhere warmer. We’re a little more warm blooded, being wolves, but snow is still snow. Oh! That does remind me. I’m due to house hunt this upcoming week so I can get back to you on a location shortly!” She taps the tube with the blueprints in it. “I can’t imagine a house more perfect than this but maybe we can find some land or a small structure to start with.” It’s clear she’s excited to start the process. “Which reminds me, about finances. If you can send the invoice to my husband, he’ll take care of whatever you need.” They had an agreement, the Landons, that Hudson would take care of whatever the family needed. He’d been the bread winner for a long time. Not always, but for a long time. He’d been pretty jobless when they met. “He might have to sell our old house first but I’m sure it won’t take too long.” She beams, positive Xiem won’t have any issues. “My, I’m just a chatter box.” She wave the air apologetically, to clear away her prattle like gnats. “I can grab something quick to eat. A light snack. What’s good here?” She’d be due home but their nanny was home with the kids, so the urgency wasn’t immediate.

Xiembantointh 'tsk's to himself for getting one of the kid's names wrong and it is at this faux pas that he really starts to feel his age. Dragon's live horribly long lives, so it's not like he is anywhere near close to death, but he is definitely no spring chicken either! That is evident by the tawny worn skin and touch of gray in the hairs of his human form. She holds all of his attention when she finally speaks a little more of her husband and he finds that warm smile again, "ah, a fellow sports guy! I used to be years and years ago when my job didn't need me as much because my kids were in all kinds of sports or else they would be in all kinds of trouble," he said behind his hand even though it is no secret that dragon welps can raise hell! It was more for comedic effect. "I was mostly at those events just for them, that is worth more than all the sweets or gold to a kid… just being there," memories flood back and he has no problem reminiscing with Alvina out loud. "They would look for you in the crowd and then get this proud giddy grin on their face when they finally spot you being just as proud of them. The best is when they get to the angsty age because you get to the the loudest, proudest parents and you can see the embarrassment all over their face, but you know deep down they wouldn't have it any other way," he sighs happily before taking another swig of his stout. "Should I possibly add a baseball field to the property for Mr. Landon, or batting cage?" The dragon nods understandably to the desire for them to be in warmer climates and then he claps his hands together happily, "that is great, Alvina! I am excited to begin this project and look forward to working on it with you and Mr. Landon." He still doesn't know her husband's name, so for now he leaves it at that until she requests he invoice the man, "of course." With that, he slips that little flip notebook from his back pocket and that handy dandy writing charcoal in order to take down his information, "who and where shall I address this to?" Xiem ponders her question and at first suggests, "if you're looking for something to warm you up, the wild boar stew is top notch with their warm cider, but" being unsure she even eats meat even though she has a wolf side to her, he isn't going to assume! He suggests with authentic excitement, "winterberry pie, you can never go wrong with winterberry pie and an ever-chilled water."

Xiem’s excitement about his kids and sports brings her back to when Harper used to do gymnastics. “Oh I know, Hudson used to help Harper practice her routines, he was just so proud of her.” Alvina leans her chin into her hand, missing the days when they were a somewhat normal family. That played catch in the yard and swam in the pool. Luna would make chalk drawings on the patio. Things were and never are perfect but there’s a longing there to return to that time. When hope and the future were hand in hand. She was proud of her children too. They were growing up to be their own individual selves, right under their noses. It was scary and amazing. Xiem asks about adding a batting cage and it pulls Alvina back to the present, where Hudson wasn’t waiting around in the yard with Bryce and complaining about Meadow slobbering all over his shoes. She gives him a small smile. “No, he doesn’t play anymore. He used to be big into playing kickball but…we got busy. Raising a family while still working, you know.” Then, she wonders if maybe he’d like to talk about his wife. The ring, the way he gushed about his kids. “Sorry,” she’s so used to people knowing everything about her family. “Hudson. My husband’s name is Hudson.” Where can he send the invoice? “He’s a realtor in Cenril.” Or that was his cover story. A business existed and it owned buildings but his real job was more complicated. “I would love some pie.” She resolves, adding a hot chocolate on her order. “I hope it’s not too rude of me but…would you tell me a bit about your wife?”

Xiembantointh can sense there might be something else lurking behind the woman's small smile and he has more than enough experience to know he shouldn't go prying at something like that. So he doesn't and if she feels comfortable enough to elaborate one day- he will simply be a good listener. After diligently scribbling down her husband's information, he returns the notebook into his back pocket and replaces the pencil in it's tucked away perch on his ear. While one of the waitstaff was walking past them, he politely interrupts and places Alvina's order for her. Her next question takes him by surprise and the joy slowly dwindles from his expression while those delicate untouched feelings stirr in the pit of his stomach along with his gaze suddenly becoming fixated on the table between them. After a comfortable small silence between them and with a gentle clearing of this throat, he begins, "I would love to talk about her, yeah," his warm timbre wavers a little with emotion, "and I am sorry if I get a little choked up, it comes from all the unexpressed love I have for her and it is only a beautiful thing." The tears well up in the waterline of his eyes when he finally looks up at Alvina as there is a soft sad grin on his lips and one of his hands rests over his own chest as if holding down his own grief. "This grief will stay with me because, as it goes with those we love, we never get enough time with each other, ya know? We all told her every day how much we loved her… she was the best of us," their little family. He places his hand around the tankard to his stout, but doesn't drink. Maybe it was his silly way of grounding himself as one single tear starts to slip over the outer corner of his eye, "I named my company after her, Nildran, because it is a way I can keep creating and spreading joy in her name as every completed project helps me sew the wounds left by her absence little by little." The hand that has been resting on his chest raises to swipe away the couple of tears trailing down his cheek bones. "She had been a fierce warrior in Frostmaw's army for many years before I lost her about three hundred years ago to a rare terminal illness that only dragons are unfortunate enough to suffer through. We never saw it coming, but all the kids moved back home in her final years to make sure she passed knowing she was surrounded by those who loved her," his grin grows as his eyes still twinkle ever so slightly from the moisture left there before he sniffles and takes a generous gulp of his drink. After wiping the foam from his mustache again, he inquires, "how about you and Mr. Landon, how did you two lovebirds meet?"

Alvina immediately feels guilty for having asked. “If you don’t, that’s okay, I didn’t mean to pry.” She just thought that, maybe, he’d like a chance to talk about it. It’s hard to find ways to bring up heavier topics like that and it’s hard to want nothing more than to talk about it but not being able to. Though she still struggled discussing her own topics, preferring instead to gloss over them and move on to how her conversation partner is usually. A select few refuse to accept this behavior from her and demand she speak her mind. One thing Alvina’d always possessed was a bad lying face. A bardic weakness; being too expressive, feeling too much, reacting too much, hurting others…too much, hurting herself too much. All she could do was apologize when she could and try to be better and not let her emotions dictate so many of her decisions. Her mistakes didn’t make her forever ruined but you know what they say, it’s impossible to make a second first impression. In the second between his emotional agreement and the continued explanation, she’d already drafted an apology that she didn’t need to. She’s struck by how strange that feels. The knee jerk reaction to be sorry as a second nature. “Of course,” She says, hoping he can express himself freely though she is an employer and kind of a stranger. Strangers can be the perfect person to confess horrible secrets too. Alvina hopes Lita will forgive her for that. There’s a slight smile when he mentions that he named his company after his wife. That’s really beautiful, she thinks but doesn’t say because she doesn’t want to interrupt his expression. A terminal illness. “I’m so sorry.” Alvina says when he finishes and asks about her marriage. “That is a beautiful tribute, I’m sure she felt very loved when she passed.” At some point in his talking, she’d apparently put her hand over her chest. Her heart ached for him! “I lost my mother when I was very young, but it always stayed with me how completely my father loved her. That’s with your children too, which means a lot to her legacy.” It isn’t much of a consolation but his grief feels fresh for 300 years. Dragon time must truly be different. To answer his question, she has to think. It had been so long ago. “We, uh, we both worked for the Eyrie. We were co-commissioned to make…something with smoke, for the flying mounts. Maybe signals.” Less than ten years ago and she’s scrambling to recall. She laughs, embarrassed. “But I’d be gone for a very long time…my fiance’ left to go work, to fund our wedding, and never came back. So I left, this is all silly and old but, I left for a while and came back. Hildegarde paired me up with Hudson for this project and the rest was…history. We dated,” we lost a baby, he got into making drugs in Cenril, eventually becoming a crime lord, we fought about that countless times, “Got married, had children,” fought about affairs, made political alliances, “eventually I asked him to turn me. We were both human when we met. I wanted to be his mate, forever.” Wanted being the key word. She’d wanted a lot of things…some she’d gotten. This is when she’ll pause and offer a smile that tells the end of the story. “He’s really great with the kids, I honestly don’t think I could have picked a better father for them. Though, gods, he hadn’t seemed it when I met him. Very much a…date a bunch of women at a time type you know?” She laughed fondly.

Xiembantointh takes a deep breath to center his emotions while waving away her apology, "please, never be sorry about something like this." It is odd, seeing a burly looking guy like him shed a tear, but he has never been about that toxic masculinity bullshirt and will cry whenever he damn well pleases! The slice of pie she ordered finally comes and is set down before her as she leans upon the table once more as he is invested in their conversation. "It has been quite a while since I talked about her so freely. Most people assume I am still married or I avoid the subject altogether because I don't want to be a damper on anyone's good time. He nods his head in confirmation that his late wife very much knew she was loved when she passed. Xiem pays her just as much attention as she did for him, smiling with joy in all the correct parts and taking the woman at her word. Whatever parts she chooses to leave out are her own stories to tell and if this is the truth she wishes to share then he wholeheartedly accepts it at face value. "That is so lovely," he mentions during the pair of them turning into werewolves. Typically, evil dragons deem the vampires and lycans unworthy due to the 'disease' aspect of their existence, but Xiem couldn't care less about that stuff since he would be considered an evil dragon just by the color of his scales. He of course catches the 'wanted' slip of the tongue, but decides not to point it out because that just isn't his business unless she wants it to be. Xiem lets out a hearty and contagious guffaw, "oh, I know the type alright. My best friend was like that, heck, he is still like that," but even though that sounds like a bad thing, Xiem says this with only love in his tone. That is just him, though… the guy has a bad habit of only seeing the good in even the worst people. "You must know him very well to plan out a new home for the whole family on your own," he offers in admiration of their bond while finishing off his stout. "That is the thing when you meet your person, though, isn't it? You just feel comfortable with each other and at home. When I met Nildran, I never got those anxious or nervous feelings because it just felt like I knew her already… somehow, and we just melted into each other like puzzle pieces. She just made everything so easy and that is what real love is supposed to be because life is already challenging enough, your significant other shouldn't be adding to those problems. You get it," he is maybe a little overconfident in believing Alvina's narrative while waving away his little tangent.

Alvina covers her mouth to laugh with him, glad he looks relieved when someone asked about the wife he loves so much. Though she’s passed, the bard can tell his heart is still so full of love for her. Did Hudson talk about Alvina that way? Even though they were separated? The way she talked about him? She didn’t know the politics of dragons or what they thought of lycans and vampires. It had honestly never been discussed with her so she doesn’t give it a second thought to explain how she came upon her lycanthropy. She’d had the luxury of choice, which many other, Hudson and Meri included, couldn’t say. “Oh Gods, his friend Sarge was just as bad. They were wild, truly.” She hadn’t seen Sarge in ages. She hasn’t seen Emily either. How life had changed. A year, a heartbeat. They were the same span of time gone. Alvina resolves to write Emily just as Xiem is saying she must know Hudson well to plan out a new home on her own. Her smile falters but she thanks him, thinking she truly doesn’t know who her husband is anymore. She hadn’t recognized him for quite some time. Hadn’t recognized herself beside him. “He mostly leaves those choices to me. Says I know best, as the mother.” The dragon explains his views on love and Alvina picks politely at her pie. She’d believed in such flawless perfection once. The loves she had all fell apart, no matter how natural it felt in the beginning. No matter how much she fought and ignored the signs things weren’t working. No matter how much she hurt people who loved her back. “She really sounds like an amazing woman.” A beat. “I think that’s partially true. There can certainly be growing pains, as you grow individually, but you have to make sure you’re growing together too.” She takes a bite of pie to avert her gaze. She didn’t want Xiem to see her glossy eyes. To Hudson, in letters, it was easy to stay neutral or distant. Cold. Precise. The future was decided. Complaining to him about how sad she is now…would be pointless. It wouldn’t change the outcome. He didn’t look unaffected when she’d seen him last either. She just had to do her best. “This pie is so good.” Alvina says, once she’s destroyed the first bite. She smiles wide enough for her eyes to close but it feels forced. She’s not going to cry in front of this very nice man recounting his beautiful once in a lifetime love for his passed wife. How could her grief compare? It was her fault. So much was her fault. Tucking away a stray strand of red hair, she takes a drink and steadies herself. Maybe asking had been a mistake. She hadn’t expected it to wound her so. “Looking back really makes you feel your age though, doesn’t it? Ah, what I wouldn’t give to tell a younger me a few things to make life easier.”

Xiembantionth likes being able to make Alvina laugh, who wouldn't!? "I could only imagine," he offers with a big grin on his face. "I've always been a one woman man and enjoyed the comfort a long term relationship brings," he speaks as if he is dead as well! "You know, when you get past that awkward phase and can finally just relax around the person along with the security knowing you've got them in your corner," there is a small shrug to follow and he rubs the back of his neck because he can hear how lame it really sounds when said aloud. "That is mostly true, yes, but Nildran and I had separate aspects of our lives outside of family and each other. When I started my construction company the first time, it took a lot of hardworking days and nights which took me away from them, but she stayed home and solidified our home like the rock she was. Then there were times the military took her away for years at a time and I took a break from my passions to step in. It is all about support," he doesn't need to be an empath to pick up on the shift in tone, the body language and he casually relaxes back in the chair instead of leaning on the table towards her in order to give her a little space. That fake smile sure is pretty, but the fact that he can tell is pulling at his heart strings even though he smiles kindly and softly in return. Of course he wouldn't mind if Alvina cried in front of him, he just did that very thing! "Sometimes," his tone has changed a little, it is quieter and softer, but turns quite tired when he punctuates with, "but then I remember I have a long, long way to go." Once he can tell she has had enough of her pie, he offers, "let's step outside for some fresh air M-... Alvina," he caught himself. "Don't want it getting too late now," he stands and picks up that case containing the blueprints before offering his arm to help her up. After assisting her with her coat, he decides to leave his jacket because he will be back shortly and grabs the door for Alvina. Their steps start to meander away from the tavern, "did you walk here or bring a mount?" Depending on her answer, it dictates the direction of their footsteps. The cold air always seems quieter than most somehow and he looks down and over to her, "are you okay?" He figures he will give her a chance to let out what she held back in the tavern as there is genuine concern in his expression. He barely knows anything about her and definitely knows nothing about Hudson or the dirty deeds in Cenril, but he just cannot bear to see someone in a tight spot. He looks away to nothing in particular ahead of them, "I'm sorry it seems like a weird thing for a stranger like me to ask, but I just had this peculiar inkling that I should."

Alvina agrees completely. Support was the foundation of personal growth that let it trickle over into growth in a partnership. Even when you’re apart for long spans of time, in the distance you can grow together. Adapt. Navigate the hedge mazes of marriage, parenting and passion projects. Her green eyes shift to the table when he mentions having a long way to go. Since she was cursed, and before, she knew she’d have a long way to go too…but it felt daunting sometimes. Like a curse more than a blessing. Her children were the thing that kept it from being suffocating. Xiem suggests stepping outside and Alvina remembers she really hadn’t planned to stay here this long! “Absolutely.” She smiles, still held in place by superficial glue, and thanks him for his help with her coat. She thought nothing of it. “I took a carriage.” The door opens with a gust of winter wind that pushes them back briefly. She’s pulling her cloak collar closer to her neck, trying to wave down the carriage master a few feet away. She’s knocked off balance and freezes at Xiem’s question. She looks back at him swiftly, mask broken, to find him looking elsewhere. It gives her a moment to reconstruct her face. Had she been so careless as to let it slip enough that a stranger could tell? What must her friends think…those who know her best? Could they see the veil she hides the panic behind? Staring at her feet, she flips her cloak’s hood up to hide beneath. “We’re separated.” She says simply, as if that kind of thing could ever be simple. The way she said it implied she still loved him, though it was a broken thing they could not repair. He was the father of her children. Though they’d shattered, she was still his wife and she wore it almost flawlessly. She makes a note to refortify her defenses. “I still love him but our marriage was making us…bad versions of ourselves. We still talk, about the kids, he’s still interested in how the kids are doing.” He was a good father. Did he care how she was? He didn’t ask but he made sure they had everything she asked him for. She wants to tell Xiem how it’s her fault they failed, that she couldn’t live with the blood on her hands of murdering a child. That it eventually was the thing that shredded them into shells, but even her closest friends don’t know. “But, it’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about it.” She looks back at him finally with sad eyes but an earnest, broken smile. “It’ll get better.” It’s exactly what she’d been told and what she believed.

Xiembantointh doesn't bat an eye in the assault of the winter air, but he was born into the cold and it feels like home to him. Her admission saps all the humor from his face and recognitions of her own feelings register in his gaze. He can relate on a different level, but one thing you can never do is compare grief no matter how big or small because we all feel things individually. With his free hand, he places it on her shoulder in a reassuring manner and gives a little squeeze. "Alvina… I won't stand here and pretend to know what you are feeling. Over the years, I have listened to many friends and family members tell me all the different stories of how they get to this point when everything you've tried doesn't work, but the one thing they all did was blame themselves. It is not your fault," the weight of his words will probably never be realized, but there is this wise way he speaks so assuredly and he doesn't even care about the reason. It probably wouldn't surprise him anyway. "It is easy to do and it is challenging, but the moment you start blaming yourself is the moment you start to lose who you are, Alvina. This is such a cliche line, but it is okay not to be okay and nothing is truer," his gaze connects with her own when she finally looks up at him and she will be able to see tears threatening to spill over his waterline again. He still couldn't care less because the way she looks just breaks his heart, "well… You can tell me to build you a house, but you cannot tell me not to worry. I look forward to our chats and already consider you a friend," his smile returns with a short chuckle. He nods and gives her shoulder a little squeeze again, "that it will. I know it feels like forever till it gets better, but one day it just will be and you'll be happy you made it. After you face the trauma, you just have to put your mindset of the future of when it all will be okay and one day the times will catch up with your goals," he looks to the carriage as it pulls up for them and places the blueprint within the carriage for her. "Would you like a hug?" He knows it won't solve anything, but sometimes it can just be nice to hug a friend.

Alvina’s eyes mist over instantly when it says it isn’t her fault. She wants to argue, immediately, in the state of a child refuting charges by a parent. But, you don’t understand! What happened! Please listen! Her face paints the urge plainly but she’s adult enough to know better and keeps her mouth firmly shut in a thin frown. How could she not blame herself? She couldn’t be blameless. That sounded worse, to be powerless to stop what happened. No, no she had to have some say. Some responsibility. But she lost herself when she tried to ignore what was happening behind her eyes. Who she was, she’d have to rediscover. When his shining eyes meet hers, it breaks her and tears trail quickly down her cheeks in the cold. “I was willing to lose all of myself, for him.” It ate her alive how true and horribly desperate it sounded. She would have changed her name, hair color, favorite foods. She would have made bargains with demons. She would have severed all her friendships. She would have, and did, do things she’d never dreamed herself capable of doing. Like kill a defenseless child. Here, she has to look away before she starts bawling openly in front of this nice man. She hides her face in her sleeve, in her cloak hood, trying to rein in her sadness before it ran off without her. Was she really willing to do those things? Hadn’t that been part of why she’d left? It all felt very dramatic to think about. She’d happily feel nothing over feeling this empty hopeless feeling. “Thank you,” is all she manages, voice shaking when she nods to accept the offered hug and friendship. Next time won’t be so dramatic, she promises herself silently. They stand there for a moment, between the tavern and the carriage that he puts the blueprint into. She swallows the ‘I’m sorry’ she wants to reflexively say and says “Thank you” again in it’s place.

Xiembantointh might one day get to listen to that story if she ever finds a way to forgive herself and tell him, but more than likely - his advice would be the same. He nods in understanding as she pleads how much she loves her husband, "sometimes that just isn't enough and it is devastating, but it happens and is not your fault." It sounds like she did everything she could for her marriage and he is sorry it isn't working, but she -did- mention they are only separated so her husband might turn around in the end and become what she needs. He pulls Alvina in and gives her a comforting hug, the kind where you feel it in your bones and is just tight enough to feel tethered back on the ground again. Both of his arms stay draped around her shoulders respectfully and he rests his bearded chin on the top of her cloaked head as he softly shushes her 'thank you's. "Anytime, Alvina… You're doing great by the way." His large strong hands rub along the back of her coat for more comfort, plus it must be cold for her out here, and then he wipes his eyes before gently pulling away. Giving her shoulder a tap with his knuckles, he says, "keep your head up mama bear," before opening the carriage door for her and offering his hand to help her up. "Send me the location once you get an area picked out and we will get started right away, but feel free to write to me about anything anytime, friend." His big, goofy and warm smile shines through his beard again as he waves goodbye when the carriage jerks into motion and pulls away.

Alvina doesn’t point out that the fact he said that she was doing great, in her mind, was a clear indicator that she wasn’t. The reassurance wouldn’t be necessary, if she had been. She’d try harder…she had to. She hates it but she wishes it was Hudson who was holding her. When they part, she gives him a fragile smile. It says ‘I’ll try’ to his ‘keep your head up’ in place of words that could fail her. A nod is given about sending the location. She’d written to Hudson about it, the offer should be in by now so she can start making better arrangements. Already she regrets saying anything. She wishes she could just stuff all the pain and humanity that spilled out back through her chest. “Absolutely.” He’s smiling like nothing is wrong when her whole world is in tatters, as if he’d never felt a sliver of pain. How? How did he do that? In this moment, she envies him. The feeling is fleeting and poisonous. Guilt eats through her skin and she holds the smile until the carriage door closes, leaving him behind in the snow. And then she cries.