On the 92nd trial of Ashan during the 718th arc...
The sun had begun to set, casting the sky into a dance of purples, pinks, and subtle oranges. Though night had begun to creep its way over the land, the birds still sang their quiet songs, and the air was ripe with the scents of wildflowers and budding life. The road he traveled upon was well worn by carts and feet and hooves, little grooves here and there, muddy puddles that placidly reflected the wondrous colors over head. Around him, the trees sighed, their gentle breaths shivering through their leafs.
It was a familiar path he walked, and Doran let his eye half close as he soaked in the quiet peacefulness of the Venoran countryside. His boots sounded a steady rhythm against the packed earth, and he felt some relief already knowing where he was going, who he planned to speak with. Hidi Loris. They did not often see one another, but they had remained on good terms over the arcs. Her father had taken ill some time after they had first met, and though Doran had not been able to help much, he had often visited to help with any sort of menial labor the pair had need off.
She was a pragmatic, thoughtful young woman, and out of everyone he knew, he valued both her opinion and her ability to help him see what he could not otherwise on his own. That, and she was a wonderful cook; having not been home for the past couple of trials, Doran didn't have much food at home. Hidi was always feeding him something.
As he took the well-remembered bend in the road, Doran spotted the face of the Loris' cottage, and there, upon its porch, sat the familiar, dusty blonde bob of a woman rocking slowly in an elaborately carved chair that had only one arm. He remembered, with a soft smile, that he father only ever kept his mistakes - those that would have been rejected by the prospective buyer. Surely the chair was one of the same.
With a wave, Doran caught Hidi's attention, and her own round face lit up with a mix of pleasure and amusement. Her voice, clear a bell, rang out with just a hint of laughter. "Don't tell me you smelled the pie and came running?"
Brows raising with interest as he continued to approach, Doran's smile widened, some excitement creeping into his words. "You made pie? Is it-"
"Elderberry?" She chuckled as Doran joined her on the porch, not bothering to stand but receiving his hand with a firm, warm shake. "Yes, Doran Cooney. It's your favorite pie, not that I knew you were coming, mind you."
Clearly he had been meant to seek her out that night. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble-"
She waved a hand, clear grey eyes rolling with mock annoyance - though perhaps there was a bit of honesty to it. "If I didn't want to share my pie with you, Doran Cooney, I wouldn't have told you I made one at all. By the Seven, you never change, do you?" Though she grinned, Doran's hesitation seemed to snag at her mirth, and her brows quickly knit. "Oh... not just a social call, is it?"
Sighing through his nose, he shook his head, apology in both his tone and hazel gaze. "I really should make more of those."
Pushing herself up and out of her chair, Hidi stood to shrug at him, her expression kind but tone practical. "I'm here for those, sure, but I'm here for you as well, just as you are for me." While Doran's lips turned in grateful thanks, Hidi opened the door and gestured him inside. "Place is a bit messier than usual; he's gearing up for a collaborative venture with Mister Smythe from Andaris. You remember that... brawny blacksmith-looking man with the limp?"
Passing through and met with the familiar scents of wood and dust, Doran couldn't help but grin at Hidi's understatement. The floor was completely obscured. Wood and partially finished carvings and sculptures swam in a sea of clippings, shavings, and sawdust. "Mister Smythe..." He followed behind his lithe hostess, the two of them hopping from stools to tables to large rounds of unstable wood and back again, headed for the distant door that lead to the kitchen. "Oh! Yes - if I recall correctly - he called you a 'tart'."
Hidi paused, quickly pivoting about, bobbed hair bouncing. Her feet dangerously rocked the chair beneath her, but her eyes were alight with a mischievous glint. "Did he?" She chuckled, hopping over to an upturned table that released a groaning, splintering noise that seemed not to bother her one bit. "Well, anyway, he's out with Mister Smythe now, so it's just the two of us. Like old times, I suppose."
"Very nearly like, I imagine."
After several tries, Hidi managed to get the door open, and they slipped through, one after the other. As before - and almost any time he'd ever visited - the kitchen was like an oasis in the greater chaos that was the Loris' home. The fire crackled merrily, and the windows had been opened, allowing the refreshing breeze that slinked into the room to carry the sour-sweet scent of the elderberry pie. There was a gently steaming crock on the stove, and Doran smiled appreciatively as Hidi removed the lid, stirring with it a wooden spoon, before turning to raise a brow at him, silently offering him whatever was inside.
Two bowls were filled with a dark, heady stew that smelled strongly of rosemary, beef, and garlic. Though well simmered, the distinct shapes of carrots, potatoes, several different kinds of squashes, and mushrooms could each be easily discerned between the shredded strings of meat and darkly amber colored broth. Steaming, hot as it was, Doran gently pat the surface with the back of his spoon as Hidi settled into the chair opposite his own. The little wooden buck, whom he had played with the very first time he'd been in the same kitchen arcs before, still remained; its antlers as incorrect and charming as ever.
"So?" Hidi began, breaking a roll of bread into halves and handing one to her guest. Her brows rose as she tore a small piece of the thick, dark and seeded loaf to carefully dip into the piping hot broth of her bowl. It was a nostalgic expression, and Doran shook his head, chuckling a short sigh through his nose.
"It's... erm. It's regarding a... a man, of a kind."
Blowing gently to cool the dripping bit of bread in her hand, there was a clear spark of unabashed interest in her eyes. "A man? Or a man?" She chuckled to herself before she popped the bread into her mouth, quickly inhaling a few puffs of air to compensate for the heat.
"What's... what's the difference?" Doran stared blankly back, spoon dipping beneath the surface of the stew to rise with nothing but the still-too-hot broth in tow.
Sucking in a little bit more air, Hidi moved a hand to cover her mouth - though if it was done out of politeness or to keep herself from spitting the food back out, Doran wasn't certain. After a trill, she swallowed, eyes shimmering just a tad more than before, though her voice still retained an entertained grin. "Well, I guess you tell me about him, and I'll know either way."
Blowing carefully on his spoon, Doran raised a brow but didn't press her farther. She liked to play in jest, but he wasn't always very clear on what it was she was joking about. "I... yes, I suppose you will." He cautiously set just the tip of his lip against the broth, testing the temperature, and found it cooled enough to be consumed without tearing off the first layer of his tongue. The spoon disappeared between his lips only to reappear empty as his eyes lit up, a reflexive "Mmm!" rising up as the well-seasoned broth settled down. "Excellent, as always."
Hidi chuckled, shaking her head, bobbed hair dancing about her clearly pleased expression. "You know, it just seems like you call purely for the free meal."
"Oh no, for the advice as well. I really ought to be paying you." Though he said it in passing, Hidi held out her hand expectantly, using her other to stir her bowl. "O-oh, erm..." He began to reach for his coin purse, to which he received a swift but light smack to the top of his head.
"Don't you dare pay me, Doran Cooney." Though she laughed, there was a forcefulness in her voice that suggested she was very much serious. "Now, about this man?"
Setting his spoon to the side, allowing his stew too cool and whet his appetite all the more, Doran nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. "I met him... not that long ago. I recently travelled to Oakleigh-" He interrupted himself, brows knit just briefly. "Did I stop by before I left?"
Mouth full of bread and stew, Hidi's lips turned an amused smile and she shook her head "no".
"Ah, right then. Erm... Oakleigh." Finding the short thread of the tale started, Doran continued as Hidi started on another spoonful of stew. She had an incredible tolerance for heat - either that, or her tongue couldn't actually feel anything. Either way, he always found it impressive to watch her eat. "I very nearly literally ran into him on the way to my cousin's. And I..." He hesitated, unsure of how to describe the event. "I felt... a flutter. Here." He pressed a hand to his chest, right where his ribs met.
Raising a brow, Hidi quickly swallowed, wincing just a tick before she managed a curious, "A 'flutter'? Like... butterflies?"
"Is it?"
She shrugged, amused. "I don't know. You tell me."
The sun had begun to set, casting the sky into a dance of purples, pinks, and subtle oranges. Though night had begun to creep its way over the land, the birds still sang their quiet songs, and the air was ripe with the scents of wildflowers and budding life. The road he traveled upon was well worn by carts and feet and hooves, little grooves here and there, muddy puddles that placidly reflected the wondrous colors over head. Around him, the trees sighed, their gentle breaths shivering through their leafs.
It was a familiar path he walked, and Doran let his eye half close as he soaked in the quiet peacefulness of the Venoran countryside. His boots sounded a steady rhythm against the packed earth, and he felt some relief already knowing where he was going, who he planned to speak with. Hidi Loris. They did not often see one another, but they had remained on good terms over the arcs. Her father had taken ill some time after they had first met, and though Doran had not been able to help much, he had often visited to help with any sort of menial labor the pair had need off.
She was a pragmatic, thoughtful young woman, and out of everyone he knew, he valued both her opinion and her ability to help him see what he could not otherwise on his own. That, and she was a wonderful cook; having not been home for the past couple of trials, Doran didn't have much food at home. Hidi was always feeding him something.
As he took the well-remembered bend in the road, Doran spotted the face of the Loris' cottage, and there, upon its porch, sat the familiar, dusty blonde bob of a woman rocking slowly in an elaborately carved chair that had only one arm. He remembered, with a soft smile, that he father only ever kept his mistakes - those that would have been rejected by the prospective buyer. Surely the chair was one of the same.
With a wave, Doran caught Hidi's attention, and her own round face lit up with a mix of pleasure and amusement. Her voice, clear a bell, rang out with just a hint of laughter. "Don't tell me you smelled the pie and came running?"
Brows raising with interest as he continued to approach, Doran's smile widened, some excitement creeping into his words. "You made pie? Is it-"
"Elderberry?" She chuckled as Doran joined her on the porch, not bothering to stand but receiving his hand with a firm, warm shake. "Yes, Doran Cooney. It's your favorite pie, not that I knew you were coming, mind you."
Clearly he had been meant to seek her out that night. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble-"
She waved a hand, clear grey eyes rolling with mock annoyance - though perhaps there was a bit of honesty to it. "If I didn't want to share my pie with you, Doran Cooney, I wouldn't have told you I made one at all. By the Seven, you never change, do you?" Though she grinned, Doran's hesitation seemed to snag at her mirth, and her brows quickly knit. "Oh... not just a social call, is it?"
Sighing through his nose, he shook his head, apology in both his tone and hazel gaze. "I really should make more of those."
Pushing herself up and out of her chair, Hidi stood to shrug at him, her expression kind but tone practical. "I'm here for those, sure, but I'm here for you as well, just as you are for me." While Doran's lips turned in grateful thanks, Hidi opened the door and gestured him inside. "Place is a bit messier than usual; he's gearing up for a collaborative venture with Mister Smythe from Andaris. You remember that... brawny blacksmith-looking man with the limp?"
Passing through and met with the familiar scents of wood and dust, Doran couldn't help but grin at Hidi's understatement. The floor was completely obscured. Wood and partially finished carvings and sculptures swam in a sea of clippings, shavings, and sawdust. "Mister Smythe..." He followed behind his lithe hostess, the two of them hopping from stools to tables to large rounds of unstable wood and back again, headed for the distant door that lead to the kitchen. "Oh! Yes - if I recall correctly - he called you a 'tart'."
Hidi paused, quickly pivoting about, bobbed hair bouncing. Her feet dangerously rocked the chair beneath her, but her eyes were alight with a mischievous glint. "Did he?" She chuckled, hopping over to an upturned table that released a groaning, splintering noise that seemed not to bother her one bit. "Well, anyway, he's out with Mister Smythe now, so it's just the two of us. Like old times, I suppose."
"Very nearly like, I imagine."
After several tries, Hidi managed to get the door open, and they slipped through, one after the other. As before - and almost any time he'd ever visited - the kitchen was like an oasis in the greater chaos that was the Loris' home. The fire crackled merrily, and the windows had been opened, allowing the refreshing breeze that slinked into the room to carry the sour-sweet scent of the elderberry pie. There was a gently steaming crock on the stove, and Doran smiled appreciatively as Hidi removed the lid, stirring with it a wooden spoon, before turning to raise a brow at him, silently offering him whatever was inside.
Two bowls were filled with a dark, heady stew that smelled strongly of rosemary, beef, and garlic. Though well simmered, the distinct shapes of carrots, potatoes, several different kinds of squashes, and mushrooms could each be easily discerned between the shredded strings of meat and darkly amber colored broth. Steaming, hot as it was, Doran gently pat the surface with the back of his spoon as Hidi settled into the chair opposite his own. The little wooden buck, whom he had played with the very first time he'd been in the same kitchen arcs before, still remained; its antlers as incorrect and charming as ever.
"So?" Hidi began, breaking a roll of bread into halves and handing one to her guest. Her brows rose as she tore a small piece of the thick, dark and seeded loaf to carefully dip into the piping hot broth of her bowl. It was a nostalgic expression, and Doran shook his head, chuckling a short sigh through his nose.
"It's... erm. It's regarding a... a man, of a kind."
Blowing gently to cool the dripping bit of bread in her hand, there was a clear spark of unabashed interest in her eyes. "A man? Or a man?" She chuckled to herself before she popped the bread into her mouth, quickly inhaling a few puffs of air to compensate for the heat.
"What's... what's the difference?" Doran stared blankly back, spoon dipping beneath the surface of the stew to rise with nothing but the still-too-hot broth in tow.
Sucking in a little bit more air, Hidi moved a hand to cover her mouth - though if it was done out of politeness or to keep herself from spitting the food back out, Doran wasn't certain. After a trill, she swallowed, eyes shimmering just a tad more than before, though her voice still retained an entertained grin. "Well, I guess you tell me about him, and I'll know either way."
Blowing carefully on his spoon, Doran raised a brow but didn't press her farther. She liked to play in jest, but he wasn't always very clear on what it was she was joking about. "I... yes, I suppose you will." He cautiously set just the tip of his lip against the broth, testing the temperature, and found it cooled enough to be consumed without tearing off the first layer of his tongue. The spoon disappeared between his lips only to reappear empty as his eyes lit up, a reflexive "Mmm!" rising up as the well-seasoned broth settled down. "Excellent, as always."
Hidi chuckled, shaking her head, bobbed hair dancing about her clearly pleased expression. "You know, it just seems like you call purely for the free meal."
"Oh no, for the advice as well. I really ought to be paying you." Though he said it in passing, Hidi held out her hand expectantly, using her other to stir her bowl. "O-oh, erm..." He began to reach for his coin purse, to which he received a swift but light smack to the top of his head.
"Don't you dare pay me, Doran Cooney." Though she laughed, there was a forcefulness in her voice that suggested she was very much serious. "Now, about this man?"
Setting his spoon to the side, allowing his stew too cool and whet his appetite all the more, Doran nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. "I met him... not that long ago. I recently travelled to Oakleigh-" He interrupted himself, brows knit just briefly. "Did I stop by before I left?"
Mouth full of bread and stew, Hidi's lips turned an amused smile and she shook her head "no".
"Ah, right then. Erm... Oakleigh." Finding the short thread of the tale started, Doran continued as Hidi started on another spoonful of stew. She had an incredible tolerance for heat - either that, or her tongue couldn't actually feel anything. Either way, he always found it impressive to watch her eat. "I very nearly literally ran into him on the way to my cousin's. And I..." He hesitated, unsure of how to describe the event. "I felt... a flutter. Here." He pressed a hand to his chest, right where his ribs met.
Raising a brow, Hidi quickly swallowed, wincing just a tick before she managed a curious, "A 'flutter'? Like... butterflies?"
"Is it?"
She shrugged, amused. "I don't know. You tell me."
