That which ales you (Caelum)

[Evalin]

66th of Fall, 514 AV
Location: Alements
Time: Morning

Why are we doing this...?

A sickly servant is a useless servant."

Yes, this I know... but why must we come here?

It is rumored that the drafts prepared here do wonders for things such as this. Better this than to take him to a house of healing where greater speculation might be cast on his relation with my Master.

Evalin sighed and shook her head, still looking at the front of Alements, a so called tavern for various remedies. In a glance the Immortal could tell it was beautifully and creatively done. The set up and arrangement of the outside invited those who passed to come in, and the floor windows of colorful glass depicting the 4 elements. Its position was perfect, and looking over her shoulder Evalin could see the lapping waves near the docks. It was certainly a sight, but Evalin still held her reservations.

Gresshal had become ill, perhaps due to the change in climate between Riverfall and Falyndar. Bed ridden and weak he was all but useless... and some small part of Evalin cared enough to see out a remedy. Still, what kind of servant had their master fetch them medicine? It was unthinkable, inappropriate... yet somehow even more shocking was that Evalin was choosing to do it of her own accord. Was this unlike her? the nuit could not be sure. She had never had a servant before...

For whatever reason, though, the simple fact was that Evalin was here, and there was no point in turning back now. She had already dressed for the occasion. It was rare that she ran any errands at all, and so in light of this she had chosen to prepare herself for the task. Today she was her normal adult self, standing just over 5'6 feet in height. She wore her more stylized robes, black as the night with a trim of purple along the ends of the sleeves, the trim and the fold in the front. Long, straight black hair fell past her shoulders, framing a deathly pale face and dark circles that accented the blood red eyes that stared at the world with a cold indifference. Feeling a bit playful this day Evalin had taken to sharpening her teeth just slightly to give them a barely noticeable point, though the canines she allowed to be slightly longer and more obvious, more for fun than function. Black nails extended to points from long pale fingers, and on her right hand rested a ring made of what looked like bone. Around her neck were two scarves, at their ends where hung life like snake heads made of wood. These odd decorations lay still around her neck, the wooden heads falling nearly to her waist. From beneath the scarves there could be seen a small blue gem that looked like cut ice, and her long fingers curled around an intricately carved staff that she held as if it were the most precious object she possessed.

Closing her eyes briefly before opening them once more, Evalin stepped forward and entered the establishment and was surprised by what she saw. The inside was as strange, exotic and beautiful as the outside. At the tables customers sat in large arm chairs instead of the expected wooden furniture pieces. The bar looked as if were a carved work of art, and it almost seemed a shame to serve drinks off of it for fear of marring its lovely texture and colors. There was even a hearth, and stairs lead upward to more rooms above that would be served for various purposes Evalin assumed.

Is this a tavern?

A grander one than we have seen to be certain...

Blinking as she looked around Evalin approached the bar, her long nails clacking against the stone as she smiled in amusement at the place which was so unlike what she had expected. Behind the counter stood a man, but with his back to her the nuit could not make out his features. Running her fingers along the top of the bar Evalin stopped and rested her staff against her shoulder, eyeing the man up and down, "I hear tale that this place offers a variety of tonics, both to intoxicate and to recuperate. I have need of something for my ill servant who seems fit to have his master run an errand on his behalf. Have you something that will put him back on his feet, and on his knees, before me?"

[Caelum]

Morning light loved him. It caught fire in deep auburn hair and sparked off the tips of curving horns colored in hands of autumnal blood and gold. It also glimmered off of glassware and puddled from the windows in vibrant hues of emerald and indigo, plum and saffron on Alements floor. It was a grander tavern than most and the sheer amount of dedication and desire, love and hope that had gone into every aspect of the business was evident to even the most cynical of eyes. This was a place that was well loved, and had been built with purpose and care. It was not just a business. It was a home. And a hope. Caelum intended for it to be a lasting one. On the counter in front of him was a mortar and pestle, a metal grater, a bowl with a lump of beeswax nicked from Kavala’s stores. Additionally he had arranged a rather sorceress array of colored vials and jars, bottles and boxes containing all manner of mysterious ingredients. At the moment, the scent of nutmeg was powerful as he held a nugget of it in his hand and scrape it steadily down the grater and into the mortar. The brown spice crumbled at the bottom even as Caelum heard the tavern doors open and the sound of someone entering. Without looking, he called, “I’ll be right with you.” The heavy stone pestle was flipped into his hand and the remaining sliver of nutmeg dropped with the crumbs into the mortar. Lifting the mortar, he cradled it in the crook of one arm and slumped casually around to face his guest while digging the pestle into the nutmeg with the intention of grinding it into a fine powder. It crunched even as he blinked golden eyes at the creature standing on the other side of the bar. “What good is a servant on their knees?” He found himself asking without thought. The words came out in Common, but their accent was at once elegant and an awkward fit around his tongue. It came from a language that did not belong in mortal mouths, and not even eleven years back on Mizahar had managed to fade that celestial heritage. “Unless they’re scrubbing your floor, I suppose.” The smile he gave her was slow as sunrise and ripe with curiosity. He study was unabashed, taking in the crimson eyes and wizard’s robes, the deathly pallor and tumble of dark hair. He worked the pestle in an absent, automatic motion and listened to the currents of magic shifting through his tavern in response to this intriguing creature. He realized, belatedly, that he had no idea what she was, let alone who. “Good morning. I’m Caelum. This is, ah, my place –“ And he cast a glance around as if to reassure himself that all the walls were still intact and familiar. Considering his history, the need for constant reassurance that the earth had not fallen out from beneath his feet was understandable. “Who are you? What are you doing in Riverfall? And tell me, what’s wrong with your servant?” The questions lined up like prayer beads, clacking together, one right after the other with unwavering interest. He set the mortar and pestle down and dropped his hands to dust them against the thighs of his pants. His clothes were plain, dark brown leather pants and a long sleeved, cream colored tunic. Their quality was fine, though, and their cut was perfect. He gazed at her, young and ancient at once, unaware that his ranuri was coming against a magic of a whole different kind. The Wretched aura was nothing he had ever encountered, and instead of recoiling, his smile grew a little confused. Caelum was stumped. “Can I get you something to drink? Some tea, maybe? It’s cold out and I’ve a brew that’ll warm you up.”

[Evalin]

When the man turned around first the nuit's eyes gazed at the mortar and pestle and the mixture within. The sound of its scrapping had an odd effect, strangely alluring as Evalin watched the ingredients within begin to crumble and break to be crushed to powder by the will of someone grader. It was almost symbolic of something bigger in this world, but the Immortal thought little on it for as she raised her eyes her smile slipped away and thoughts were scattered to the wind.

This man, this creature was made of sunlight and the break of morning danced and played upon every curvature of his body, sparkling and twinkling a it awashed him in a sea of gold and reds like the autumn that covered this world. That face was a face chiseled by the loving hands of a god and held only perfection, too much to have been a part of the mortal plane. The rags he wore were so unfitting, and it seemed a tragedy that he would wear anything at all. Was all of him this glorious, every last inch? It seemed too much to be true. This being was like her opposite, his beauty and glory only magnifying the nuit's own wretched ugliness... It opened a pit in her soul, a dark and inky void that exuded something close to envy, but was quickly masked by regrets and sadness and hints of anger that set the Immortal's pointed teeth on edge. So distracted was she that Evalin did not even notice the words spoken to her for several ticks.

Blinking, a conscious action to pull her mind back from the pits, Evalin brought her eyes up to meet Caelum's gaze, hardening her soul to let the ice creep in once more. Numb the pain, numb the sensations. It was too much to concern herself with now.

"Hold your offer's of drinks and pleasantries for when someone requests them barkeep." Evalin snapped, immediately regretting her words as she realized how harshly they had come out. Tapping her finger on the bar the nuit glanced away, looking at the colored glass of the windows as a distraction as she said in a softer tone, "Thank you for your offer, but that is not necessary."

You waver master.

Hush I know... Know I not why this affects me so, but my patience has been tried by his very presence. I do not like him.

The Familiar's mind probed curiously at the back of the Immortal's mind, Why are you lying?

Collecting herself Evalin straightened and wrapped both hands around her staff, leaning on it now instead of the bar as she looked Caelum up and down, "It is rather bold of you child to ask such personal questions when first you meet me. Terribly rude, and were it not so amusing I might take offense." She smiled again, but it was faked. Amused was far from the Immortal's mind, and shame seemed closer to it now. Shame for what she was, for what she looked like. She was a monster talking so arrogantly to a thing of pure beauty. Did she really have that much to be proud of?

Running a finger to trace along the carved edges of the staff Evalin glanced over the man's shoulder at the bottles behind him, anything to avoid keeping his gaze for long, "If you must know, my servant belongs on his knees in order to beg for his Master's forgiveness for making me run out on such an errand as this. He takes too much of my kindness for granted." She paused a tick and then continued, "It seems he has not acclimated to the weather here quite yet. Where he is from it is much warmer and the weather more humid and the rains come often. He suffers from weakness and lethargy, and I believe his body temperature has lowered slightly though I know not why that is." She shrugged as if she could not care less... though she could.

"Have you something that could aid him and cease his whining? Really i have not the patience for it."

[Caelum]

Caelum’s eyebrows shot up when she addressed him so harshly. It was not offense that splashed over his face, however, but rather amusement. The granite pestle continued to grin into the slick bowl of the mortar, crumbling the nutmeg to dust with every lazy twist of his wrist. He worked, and he watched her with a curiosity that refused to be deflected by her attitude. By the time she called him child he was smiling wide and white as the moon. He had not been called a child in a very long time. “At least give me your name,” he teased her. “It’s a fair trade for my own.” The mortar was spun down to the shelf beneath the lip of the bar and he reached without looking for a stack of square metal tins. Clever fingers tapped thoughtfully over their lids before he lifted one up and then second and a third, lining them side by side on the marble bar. Rather than grimace and retreat or bristle and be cowed, the ethaefal seemed to almost be immune to the Wretched aura surrounding Evalin. He was listening to the slow stir and rattle of Nikali’s divine chains, their insidious song seeming to reverberate through his bones. Additionally, he watched his customer and took note of her details and mannerisms, perceiving that she was uncomfortable from the way she avoided his gaze and fidgeted. He wasn’t entirely sure he cared to put her at ease. Not yet. “Sit down,” he invited, but there was an expectant element to his tone that suggested he was accustomed to being heeded. “All of this running about for your servant must be wearying.” The corners of his eyes dared to crinkle. He was still teasing her, but it was not mocking so much as it was light and friendly. He prodded, but he did not bite and sting. “Tell me. Is he human? And does he have any allergies that you know of?” A kettle was slid over a small metal burner and he lifted the top to peer inside, double checking the water level before leaving it to simmer. Golden eyes watched Evalin from their corners. He was considering far more than a mere tonic.

[Evalin]

The order came unexpectedly, and more surprising still Evalin found her body obeying as she shifted the stool out with her foot and slid into the seat. Trying to hold onto some form of control, mentally at the very least, Evalin rested her staff against her shoulder, letting it lean as she wrapped her arm around it to clasp her hands together on the bar itself. Her eyes came back to meet Caelum's and spoke softly as if all of this were her idea in the first place, "You may call me..." she paused, tapping her nail on the wood as she thought, "Evangeline."

The Familiar's surprise was so thick that the nuit could have choked on it, had she the need to breath at least, yet he said nothing. Perhaps his shock was such that he was lost for words as he could not believe that his master, who cast aside that name nearly 200 years before, would allow herself to be addressed by it once more.

"You understand well my plight then. Indeed it grows tiresome. Such a tedious existence do mortals live, having such desires as to eat and rest. It is all such an inconvenience, and terribly rude for one such as I to have need to care for one who cannot simply live on his own fruition." She sighed, shaking her head and smiled as if she thought it were humerus, "Life it seems is far too much of a burden, I wonder how anyone could bear to live at all."

It was like her tongue would not still itself, and words just seemed to tumble from her. The allure of this man was infuriatingly pleasant as she found herself wishing to tell him everything, "My servant is one of the serpents of the jungle, Dhani they are called I believe. If he have any allergies know I of none of these. So he should care for such things himself and be it not my responsibility."

Be it not the Master's responsibility to see that her tool's in proper condition to be used?

The nuit gently touched the pendent at her neck, brushing it with gentle, conscientious fingers as she looked over at the kettle and more importantly the man who stood over it, "Know you of a potion that might cure him so that he might once more do his Master's bidding?"
.

[Caelum]

"Yes, I can help you." There was such absolute certainty in Caelum's reply that it was almost casual. He tilted his head and rolled one shoulder in a dismissive shrug for he was entirely unconcerned with this challenge. Some might find this degree of confidence reassuring. A long finger finally landed on one of the three tins and he pinched it up to pry off the lid. It held a fine, chalky powder that he tapped into the cusp of his hand until it piled there in the right measurement and that he in turn dumped into a wooden bowl with tall, spill catching sides. He reached for a thick glass jar that held a deep red substance that appeared to be a jam at first glance, thick with mascerated berries. Three heaping spoonfuls of this were dolloped into the wooden bowl and he began to mix it with the powder using the backend of his spoons. Golden eyes came back to Evangeline often throughout this process, curiosity still ripe. "Evangeline," he echoed her after a short time. He held her name in his mouth like a secret. He was uncommonly sensitive to names and it had nothing to do with any any magic or divine power. It was because his own was utterly out of reach. "Your name feels like a wish. I like it." And here he smiled at her, somewhat gentler than before, to make his confession. Maybe it was the strange season still making him more open and less guarded, or maybe it was just her. "Caelum isn't my true name. It's the name I chose for myself when I fell. My real name is stuck in my head, see." He tapped his temple. "It is..." He trailed off and his eyes grew heavy lidded and far away, thinking thoughts he had not dared in a long while. "My name is cinders exploding and the joy in your throat when you race the wind. It's grace and blood and bells to announce the dawn. I cannot speak it. I do not even know if it is rightfully mine any more. But I hear it at times, an echo in my mind that haunts me." His smile grew rueful. "I lie to people every day. I'm Caelum, and this is my place. I must say it dozens of times. But Caelum is the name of a very dim star, perhaps the dimmest in the Mizahar sky, so far and so faded that only the old sailors remember it anymore. It might have been my name once, but I think it no longer suits me. Or I no longer suit it. But I'm old and I'm stubborn and some things maybe aren't meant to change." The few close friends Caelum had would have been gaping at them by now. It was a practical avalanche of personal speech compared to the dribbling like snow melts of the occasional intimate secret that tended to come out of him. "What are you that you are not mortal?" He wanted to learn. "And what's a Dhani? I've only heard rumor of serpents like this, but to my knowledge I've never met one. Are they cold blooded then?" He looked at the concoction he was making, blinking briefly at the forming ingredients. "That's wild."

[Evalin]

Evalin could not help a small shiver as he spoke her true name. If only he knew the shame it brought her, the way it twisted her insides with regret and longing for something that was no more. It was not a wish, it was a curse...

"Worry you far too much over the trivialities in a name." Evalin whispered looking away as he looked toward her. This man spoke as if every word were the verse to a song which only he could hear. His movements held such grace as to put the best of dancers to shame. His eyes blazed with the radiance of the sun, and somehow his name was so far beyond comprehension that he may not even speak it. How odd it was that he seemed so caught up on the thought of names when he himself seemed beyond, above and more than anything else in this world. He did his work as mortal men did and made it into an art form to watch and admire as one might a grand performance. Everything about him was divine and beautiful. Thus it seemed so wrong to be hung up on something so small as a name.

"All names are lies. They are deceits and false identities given to others for them and for ourselves depending on the time and purpose. We might call a fish a fish and in its very being it is and always shall be a fish, but should we find someone who never before has seen a creature such as this and we present it to him and say 'look here this is a ribbon' never would he be the wiser." She glanced at Caelum and away once more, tapping her finger on the counter as she absently fingered her necklace, "A name can always be changed. A name is finite, simple and easily thrown about, assigned and disposed of in a matter of chimes. Never is it meant to hold any true weight for the weight it holds is defined by the person who presents it. Simply to say 'you are Caelum' is to say you are you. Even if the name Caelum were never used, still to call yourself who you are would never be less or more, even if the words by which you call yourself are a lie." She chuckled and closed her eyes and shrugged, "Caelum is you, but you are not Caelum. Or so one such as I who wears names as clothing might say should such come up."

She paused for a tick or two, opening her eyes to look out toward the beautiful glass through which the sun still shown, "Dhani be the name of the serpent race which live far to the Easte. Shape changers by nature they live deep in the caves and wage war against another race of people who are mighty in combat, but somewhat lacking in intelligence. For a time I lived within the caves of Zinrah, an advisory of sorts to a Queen of the nest. Suppose I that she was cold blooded, for often she had need to sun herself but of such details I know little for little did it matter to me."

"As for myself..." Evalin smiled as she looked at Caelum, "Be that a question not so easily answered. I am what I am, but never am I what I am not. Many names I have worn over the centuries, every place hailing me by a different title. To north in the land of trees many hundreds of feet tall I was known as the White Fox by fearful mothers. In the city of Sunberth some knew me as the Witchling child and orphan stealer. To the city of Syliras I am the Fall of the House of Telleran, and of the University of Zeltiva I might even have been known as Professor." She leaned over the counter a bit more, observing Caelum as she continued, "She who howls in the night, the Whisper before the Storm, the Contractor, and the Sorceress of Flame and Shadow. I am the Darkness between the stars and the All Consuming Flame. I am she who stands at the edge of time, that which calls on the name of Fate to claim her Justice." The smile faded somewhat and the Immortal looked away once more, "I am the Immortal Witch Evalin. Evangeline the forgotten girl. As I have said, names are not who we are, and many lies I have worn. Far more than ever could be spoken of in your short lifetime."
.

[Caelum]

"These dhani are shapeshifters?" Interest narrowed Caelum's eyes. He upturned the contents of the wooden bowl into a small saucepan that he proceeded to place on the little burner. "Do they shift as kelvics do? At will and into one animal shape? That is, I guess they would be snakes. Wouldn't they?" He squinted while pondering this and left the saucepan to heat and sizzle. This was so that he could collect a thick glass bottle, empty and shining clean, from a shelf and set it down on the counter before him. A funnel went into the mouth of the bottle and he reached down into the bar well to fish up a new container, this once outfitted with a custom metal pour spout and half filled with a thick, clear liquid. He upturned it over the funnel and held it there for a little while, golden eyes finding their way back to Evalin as the syrupy substance dripped into the funnel bit by bit. "Or do they shift like I do? Automatic and unwilling? How does it work? Were they made in the same strange, magical manner that Marcus Kelvic created the kelvic race or did they just come the way they are? Half snake and half... Human?" He spiked an eyebrow before shaking in his head in a splash of ripe autumn hair. A handful of shadows slid into his expression as Evangeline discussed the uselessness of names. He found himself oddly comforted. It was not, truth told, that her words were terribly reassuring. It was that she bothered to say them at all. It was clear to him that she used them in an attempt to offer him some small comfort in the wake of his confession, and for that Caelum was immeasurably grateful. Even on this odd autumn, Caelum held kindness in especial regard. The fact that he had not expected it from a stranger, perhaps especially this one with her curious staff and her somewhat frightening presence, only worked to improve his spirits. "How can you be forgotten when you are so widely remembered?" He countered her, flipping the bottle of sugar water back around to place it back into the bar well. By now the sauce pan was simmering with his berries and his powdered calgonquit root and he gave it a quick stir so that it would not scorch. "White Fox. Why is it mothers and not just people? Immortal Witch. Ah --" A smile speared his mouth, impossibly magnetic, and he slumped comfortably toward her. An elbow pointed down to the warm marble and his chin ducked in intimate conversation. "Tell me about your immortality. And I'll tell you about mine."

[Evalin]

Evalin shook her head, "No, not as a Kelvic would. It is more like..." She raised her hand, her mind already beginning to pull at the strings of her djed before she froze, a bit aghast at what she was about to do. Since when did she so freely reveal her magic? What inside had changed that without thought she would enact such a thing in public to a man she had only just met? Slowly she lowered her hand and tapped her nail on the counter, "The bones twist and bend and scales flow over skin in a rather curious displace. For certain they are serpents, of various types as I have seen but of the true details I know not." she paused in thought for a moment, "Know I not if it is fully in their control... Such is a question that would be better left to the creature himself."

Marcus Kelvic... the name was familiar, for she had heard or read about it at some point in her studies but she did know know the details of his work, thus she remained silent on this point but perhaps, if she were so inclined, she would investigate this information herself.

Caelum's words almost made Evalin laugh, but she restrained herself to just a chuckle as she leaned her chin on her hand that was propped on the counter, "Forget you my words already? It was not I who was remembered, but my name which was a lie. Remember they the face I wore, the actions I performed, the deeds I had done... but never did they even know of me. Never did they know of Evangeline."

Tsenrika stirred deep in Evalin's subconscious, is probing mind pressing against her own as the unspoken question passed between them. Why did she speak so much of the girl who was no more? To this Evalin had no real answer... but despite that her tongue would not be held still, no matter what her mind and familiar wished it to do.

"From place to place I wander, and once there a new face, a new lie I wear to cover the truth of my own immortality." Evalin did smile now, "And only mothers need fear the White Fox who steals away the babes from their cribs." Her lip twitched and the curve of her lip turned down slightly, "But it is as it is."

With a sigh Evalin rolled her staff in her hand against her shoulder, looking sideways at it as a way to avoid looking at the man who seemed to be able to drag everything from her with little effort, "But still you ask things that should not be asked..." He wished to speak of immortality, but did he realize what type of creature he spoke to? Why did he not turn away and flee from her presence as so many others did? That beautiful man, stunning and so eloquent of speech drew from Evalin's lips more secrets than ever she had let spill and the more she fought the more her soul sung to be let free to give this man anything and everything he asked from her, "I am a creature left in the darkness of the world, cast there by such things as I could not control... or perhaps it was of my own accord after all. So long it has been since I thought of it."

Tsenrika pressed against her mind once more, a warming passing between them but it made no headway against the Nuit whose words came anyway, "I Immortal by blood and rage, and through death I am given life anew over and over again. I travel where I may for never can I stay long, for this Wretched existence brings with it a curse... Upon the hatred of others I feed and draw my strength, but never can I be free of it. My immortality is death and solitude and loneliness. Speak of me to any and they shall say in truth, there goes a Monster to be feared."

She spoke but her eyes did not meet Caelums as her smile completely vanished, her heart and soul singing the disrepair and regret of a life of pain and torture that she herself had chosen for one reason or another. If for nothing else, all she desired in this world was just a moment... a moment of peace and acceptance and love which never she had known before. And now along with that her mind screamed at her, pleading for silence of this tongue that poured out a torrent of black secrets of the Immortal witch itself. She begged herself to stop, to say no more, but she feared she could not.
.

[Caelum]

The Wretched Aura was a powerful thing. It seeped off of Evangeline and toward Caelum, swirling and surrounding, like snakes seeking a way through his skin. Though he had no magic with which to know it, to suss out the unnatural magic at work in Alements mains, he did have a mind to perceive it. Caelum's world was rife with the world's desires, over crowded by a hundred little wants and fewer but more potent ambitions. Those very few people who were aware that he bore the mark of Nikali tended to focus on how it could lure him into dark addictions and to fret over how their own desires might accidentally erase his. These were, by and large, good people. They were not exactly saints, but at the very least they shared a common trait -- they all cared about him. And, most of the time, they cared about Caelum enough that they could occasionally care more about him than they did anything else, therefore temporarily freeing him from Nikali's obligations. Yet these initiated few were scarce today, and the world was so ripe with want in midst of this strange season that it was near rotten. What a person wanted, what a person liked, what they sought, what they would fight for, and sometimes most especially what a person did not desire, could tell you a great deal about them. To someone like Caelum, trained in the arts of intelligence and investigation, a slowly sharpening leader in an age where so many of the best of them were long dead, those wants and lacks of desire could tell him everything. There in the sheer intensity of the Immortal Witch's desire for love and acceptance, peace and belonging, the basic building blocks of every emotionally well adjusted person in the world, Caelum could see right through that potent aura and right past blackened eyes and snow white skin. He saw her. Her. Maybe even right down to her very soulcore. And it was impossible, when witnessing someone so truly, and knowing the most important piece of them so fully, to not love them. So Evangeline got her wish with a softening of the ethaefal's smile and a warm, melting slide of Nikali's deadly chains. "I don't see a monster," he told her, voice lowered, intimate. "I see a talented woman with a badly broken heart and a mouth full of impressive ambition. I see a sister in the darkness, another cast off, another failed experiment in the spiritual evolution of man. I see Evangeline." He straightened a little, palms turning up on the bar in an abbreviated shrug. "Wear your monster mask or lift your sword like a good saint. It doesn't matter to me. We are all more than just one thing, darling. We are all but versions of ourselves." He rocked back on his boot heels and lifted his hand, beckoning her with a warm gesture. "Come with me? I could use a monster's help with a thing." His smile speared, sharp again. "Though it can wait, if you'd rather just sit and talk awhile."