Hekazu

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

Harol was rather happy walking to their rooms with Freya. Holding her hand was something he had never realized would be a cause for such happiness. Why was it so was somewhat unclear, as they had after all known for a rather short while, but on the other hand they had already been through life risking situations, and knew they could depend on each other. There was still this odd gnawing confusion on his feelings towards Freya, but he was sure what he felt was nothing wrong.

Arriving to the hallway with their rooms, Harol stayed at the door of his own while Freya headed for hers. As soon as it was clear that Freya had found her room, Harol opened the door into his. It became immediately apparent that someone had been there, for the bed had been made again after Harol had been lying on it and having the discussion about his birthrite with Freya, who had listened and helped him deal with the fact of what had happened. Although he still was not remotely done with the subject, it had helped heaps. Then another mark of someone was a little message left on a drawer: "Not quite ready. Just a moment more, if you will."

Not long after Harol had finished reading the note, a young female servant appeared at the door. "Harol sir, your bath is ready", she exclaimed. "Please follow me!" Harol had not been called a sir before. He was honoured by this fact, but did not let it distract him. Now for the longest while, he left his staff behind and then followed the person a floor downwards and to the doors of the bathroom. "Enjoy a relaxing bath sir", she said and opened the door to the spacious bathroom with tons of marble decorations all around and careful tilework finishing the borderline exaggaratedly rich look of the room. But the most important thing of them all for Harol was the bathtub, or more like a pool. It could easily fit three people, but now it was his, and his alone. Harol closed the door behind him, locked it down and undressed. Stepping to the pool felt heavenly after his journey as the warmth of the water took over from the colder air. He would spend some time here... Just relaxing and letting the weariness wash off...

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

"Good, good", lord Mortimer replied to Freya's acceptance of Harol as a teacher. "You may begin at any time after this meal, although I understand if you are busy with... Other things. Such as your studies, Harol", he continued. This left Harol to wonder what significance did the pause hold. Was it a simple pause as he gathered his thoughts or was it something else? He couldn't tell, but he was leaning towards the latter. Whatever the case, Harol didn't mind the possibility of spending more time with Freya, he did not mind it at all.

After Freya had chose her piece, Harol picked one for himself, followed by Mortimer and lastly Cyrus. During this choosing, a couple servants had brought everyone goblets with red liquid within. Harol lifted the goblet near his nose, and could instantly tell that it was red wine. Nothing peculiar about that. House Clasz was not exactly known for having the greatest wine cellar out there, but it was definately at least as good as what one could purchase within bigger taverns. Had to have some standards, even if the Oracles rarely drank any sort of alcohol. Come to think of it, house Arkdal was oddly liberal with their alcohol usage. Might be the fact their Warlocks had enough sense not to invoke doom upon their house when drunk. Oracles just hated the loss of clarity alcohol brought, as if the visions were not unclear enough as is.

The rest of the dinner passed fairly silently, with only small talk of no real importance being discussed for the rest of the time (and even then that was mostly between lord Mortimer and his guests, given Cyrus had decided to shut up). That left more of time for enjoying the roast and drink, and that in turn led into the roast being entirely eaten by the group. A surprisingly big amount of it vanished into the direction of lord Mortimer, but he had mentioned duck roast being one of his long time favourites.

"Well then", he said as everyone had finished their final pieces, "I will be going to sleep now to let my eyes recover if all of you do not mind." With that, a familiar looking manservant rushed to him, and helped the blinded man out of the hall. Cyrus rose up as well, as did Harol. "Harol, I trust you can find the way to your room. Just backtrack our way here", Cyrus told Harol, and Harol nodded in response. He was still denied access to the main hall. He started to find this increasingly troubling, but dared not say a word. "As for you Freya... Your room is on the same hallway as Harol's. You'll see it once you get there." And then he was off too, leaving Harol and Freya together just outside the dining hall door while servants kept cleaning up the table behind them.

"Well, that was that I guess", Harol stated and glanced at Cyrus' back with a confused look in his eyes. Something had changed with the man during the day. However, now it was the time for his bath! Harol started to make his way towards his room, making sure Freya followed. He let his left hand hang relaxed on his side. It would be easy to grab if she wanted to walk like that to their rooms.

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

Harol thought he remembered most of what Freya had said from before, but he wasn't absolutely certain. He might've just made it up in his head too, because looking at her, no offense, made one think of such life. Harol found himself wondering what Freya's skin would smell like when clean, and instantly continued wondering what had made him think of that. Now that he thought of it, Freya hadn't smelled like she had been on the road for days or weeks. Odd, but that was a good thing nevertheless. He wouldn't need to be saying that out loud though. Could easily be taken as an offense. He wouldn't want that, not at all.

Lord Mortimer had entirely different questions on his mind, and everyone would agree that those were more applicable to the situation at hand. "So a traveler for long? Interesting. That kind of life differs much from our kind of life, staying mostly at our great house, away from others. But I believe that leaving was not a choise you made yourself... You must have been driven out or something alike. Well, I cannot say I would know that, but that is what I believe. You are free to correct me. Whatever be the case, I hope your stay is enjoyable, even if it is widely out of touch to your usual life", he replied to Freya's short explanation, before asking another question: "But then we come to another thing, that being how our house works. Our etiquette might differ somewhat from what you are used to. I could always ask Cyrus to teach you, but I believe", he spoke, glancing at Cyrus in a somehow irritated manner which could be seen even with his blindfold in the way "that you will find it more pleasant to learn with someone you share something with, so I would propose that", now again turning his head, this time towards Harol and nodded at him "Harol here will teach you. Not that you would have done something wrong, but to avoid it in the future. You are okay with this, are you not?"

As he finished talking, Mortimer downed his last spoonful of soup. As soon as everyone was finished with their appetizer, the servants carried away their empty bowls and brought in a platter with an entire roasted duck in addition to a plate for each participant. "Now, I would usually cut the roast into fitting pieces, but for obvious reasons that won't do now. Cyrus, would you mind doing the honours?" Mortimer asked. "Not at all sir", Cyrus replied and was handed the appropriate tools for the job: A long jagged knife and a rather large fork. It took him some time to cut several pieces out of the roast, but he stopped once there were around seven pieces loose. "As per tradition, guests and ladies first!" lord Mortimer said with an eager smile as Cyrus lowered the tools onto the platter and everyone was handed the smaller forks and knives.

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

Harol sunk his spoon into the soup, raised it in front of his mouth, blew some air onto it, and then took a taste. Apparently the cheesy smell had not betrayed him, and he could recall the rich taste and the interestingly solid composition of the soup, while still not quite being pudding. This was indeed cheese soup, the recipe of which house Clasz's cooks treasured. Harol had not had the oppourtunity to ask what made them like the recipe all that much, for it was in the end a rather basic kind of food. Well, they had got this great aftertaste into it, so that was something, if he had to guess.

Mortimer ate slowly, and if one followed his movements, it was evident he was not all that accustomed to his blindness. However, he did not make any sort of a mess. A few spoonfuls later he attempted to start a conversation: "So... Harol, you have been through a lot as of late, both physically and mentally. As much as I would love to make sure that you get through all this, you most likely are more than capable of handling yourself for the rest of the day. Would make no sense trying to pushing you into thinking even more about it. However...", lord Mortimer said, downing another spoonful of soup after reachkng his little cliffhanger. Harol could see where this was going. Mortimer wanted to ask Freya something, there was no doubt about it. He also made note on how Cyrus stayed completely silent, slowly devouring his food without a word, as if in a grudging acceptance to something he disliked.

"We have not spoken yet... Freya, was it? Quite the beautiful name you have. I wish to know our guests better, so even though you seem to be the quiet type, it would be rather awkward to have someone stay with us for a longer period of time without knowing anything more than their name", Mortimer spoke and gulped down another spoonful of his soup. "For example, where do you come from? If I understood my visions, you have not had a definitive home for some time now, but I didn't see more than that about more personal things. You must have grown up somewhere, or were you a traveling soul from young age?" As Mortimer finished his sentence, Harol had emptied his bowl. A glance in Cyrus' direction showed he had had an empty one before him for a longer while, and he was waiting for the main course, no doubt just wanting to be off.

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

You seem to have a double post in a single post.

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

"Very well then, I'll make sure you have your room ready once you return from the table. If you'd like, we may even move your belongings for you. Although that will have to wait for now, we shouldn't delay", the servant responded to Freya, bowed quickly and made off. "Follow me", Cyrus simply remarked and started walking in a more relaxed pace. Harol did as suggested, although at an even slower pace to let Freya catch up to him.

Even now as they were making their way to the dining room, Harol noticed they were truly avoiding the main hall of the house, as they had when they had arrived earlier today. Why were they avoiding the room? He had gone to the dining hall before through there, and as far as he remembered it was the most direct route. He would need to ask lord Mortimer. Maybe not during dinner, but at some point later, just in case it was not something they would want to tell publicly, for they had not explained themselves yet. However, apparently there was an alternative way in that did not seem inferior to the one he remembered. Maybe they had multiple routes for just some odd reason? Whatever the case, the table was all set. The only thing that was missing was the food itself, but that was nothing odd. It would stay warmer in the kitchens anyway.

"Harol and Freya are here, lord Mortimer", Cyrus exclaimed and continued towards his seat in the table. It was a surprisingly small one, only big enough for six (and even then there were only four chairs), compared to the size of the hall, the lightly purple coloured walls of which were adorned with different paintings. Harol had always admired the one that was always directly behind Mortimer's back. It depicted, or at least Harol had been told it did, a powerful Oracle from ages beyond counting who had foreseen the rise of several magical houses under their protectors, and had been extremely accurate in small details of them, like Ishul'Shog's eye surrounded by a flaring mass. However, the painting had either taken many artistic liberties or the Oracle had been something very much inhuman, something Harol considered highly unlikely, although he had nothing to base these thoughts on.

As lord Mortimer and Cyrus sat on the other side of the table, Harol took the liberty of assuming the two chairs on the opposite side were for him and Freya, and decided to take the one further away from the entrance. A servant rushed to pull the chair from under the table and help Harol get seated, another one standing ready to do the same for Freya. One had also attempted the same with Cyrus, but they had dismissed the help with a wave of his hand. "Very well, I trust we are all ready!" lord Mortimer spoke up once the sounds of walking and moving chairs had ceased. "Today we will be having duck roast. One of my long time favourites, that. But first, of course, some soup to warm up the appetite!" As Mortimer finished speaking, the servants that had aided Harol and Freya started walking towards a door Harol assumed went to the kitchen. Soon enough all four of the participants had half-a-bowl of hot soup that smelled strongly of cheese. "Let us begin by honouring the will of Yurnero. May their infinite knowledge one day be passed to us of house Clasz, but that day is not today, for so do the prophecies say", Mortimer recited, with Cyrus chiming in as another voice during the second part. Harol stayed quiet, as Yurnero was not the protector of his house. "Now, let us dig in!" Mortimer finished, and raised his spoon.

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

Congratulations on the new job!

...yeah, nothing more meaningful to add. I'll start writing up a post now.
Also, please do correct the typo in your post, for it is the only time Harol is mentioned it is misspelled. Auto-correct, please.

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

Harol smiled back at Freya, them both beaming with happiness, a feeling most peculiar to two people who had had their lives threatened just this morning, and in the preceding day to boot. Now within the walls of house Clasz however, all this seemed so very distant, and the cause of happiness was right before them. It made sense to be happy. And that was exactly what Harol and Freya were. Two happy people, staring into each others eyes.

However, their doing nothing was interrupted by a knock on the door. Harol released Freya's hands, crouched to pick up his staff and headed for the door. Behind the door was no other than Cyrus with the manservant seen accompanying lord Mortimer most of the time. "Our esteemed guests, the dinner will be served shortly. I suggest you follow me to the dining hall", Cyrus bellowed. "And if there is anything you would like to request to have shortly after, do bring it to my attention post haste", the servant added.

"Well, I would love a bath today, the earlier the better", Harol said to the direction of the servant, and then turned to Cyrus "I have nothing more to ask now." "Then it is up to your friend here to time our departure to the dining hall", Cyrus muttered. Apparently the tone of his voice did not please the servant who shook his head, but quickly returned to his professional self: "So, miss, any special arrangements for you?"

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

"If you are willing to teach me in the ways of an outlaw, I see nothing stopping us traveling together once the time comes", Harol answered and again briefly squeezed Freya's hands. "As of when that time comes, I was thinking of spending a few weeks here if the situation permits, especially after all this new stuff I've got to think about. Besides, here it is safe, food and drink are plenty, one has a comfy room and baths are something one may enjoy on a regular basis. Speaking of which, I think I'll have one today", Harol was again derailing his train of thought rather efficiently, as was typical of him.

The thought of another kiss still lingered within his mind, but he was still somewhat hesitant to make a move. He knew how to respond to one, but how to initiate was a whole another thing. The first one had however come to him naturally, so would the second one too? He still hesitated for a moment, but decided to just try it. He pulled Freya just a bit closer and brought his lips toward hers, once more softly pressing them against hers, and just barely opening his mouth for a moment to caress Freya's lower lip.

In the meantime, Cyrus and lord Mortimer were having a conversation. "Or so the servant told me, Mortimer sir", Cyrus finished his sentence and awaited a response from the older man. "There should be nothing worrysome about this, Cyrus. Why would you need to bring it to my attention?" "She is an outlaw sir..." "An outlaw without of whom the only confirmed survivor of house Arkdal could very well be dead. Do I need to remind you of the long lasting friendship between our family and theirs? You might see it as you will, but I see it only as a positive thing. It won't hurt Harol to have something HAPPY happen to him for once. Now, when will the dinner be ready?" Mortimer firmly asserted his ground, and Cyrus was left with but a weak: "Just around ten more minutes, sir."

Warlock in distresss (hekazu and FaihtfulMuse)

Feeling Freya's gloved hand take hold of his, Harol felt slight relief, even if in the end it was only natural for her to accept this kind of touch after the kiss. Lots of questions were bubbling in Harol's mind, but none of them seemed fit to ask as the first question. As talkative a person Harol usually was, now he found himself unable express himself, and that was somewhat of a shock to the Warlock who never before had been left truly speechless. He squeezed Freya's hand just a little and simply looked straight into her eyes. It was quite the combination: The gentle and confused look of Harol's with the tattoo of a one eyed golem covering the other half of his face. Just staring into the light brown eyes of Freya with the green ones of his, Harol calmed down enough to form a sensible question within his mind:

"Do you think this thing between us might work out? I mean, it is not like it was something about us, as it is the fact we are both on the wrong side of the law, and you... You have actual experience of a life there. I, on the other hand, am highly inexperienced when it comes to life like that. We... really cannot be equals in that sense, can we? We are safe for now, but we most likely cannot stay here until the end of our lives," Harol did not like making things difficult, but this had to be made certain. If Freya would not mind the possibility of needing to, figuratively speaking, drag Harol around as dead weight, and a fairly visible one at that, this all could work out.

Now having already spoken, Harol realized that this question might have come early, and if they had just met, it most definately would have. But they had been on the road for a couple of days together already, and thus Freya knew what it was like traveling with him. This still led Harol pondering if it had been the right question to ask, but he decided to push those thoughts away. No use adding another article to the "What now?" After all, they would stay at house Clasz for a while still, wouldn't they? ...wouldn't they? Harol realized he didn't know how long Freya actually planned on staying! That was another question to be asked. He reached for Freya's other hand with his right, this time taking hold of it himself, and asked: "By the way... How long WILL we stay?"

And then Harol noticed he had asked the question in plural, to account for both of them. Apparently he was surely enough going to move with Freya. A choice he had made in the moment without really thinking. Yet again something un-Harol-like. Maybe it was his growing hunger and his troubled mind. As he waited for an answer, he wondered if Freya would mind sharing another kiss with him. They felt nice.