... nein

[Metarie]

Since Camulous asked, Metarie assumed he was actually interested in knowing what was said exactly.

"We exchanged greetings. He used a more formal greeting because I am the child of settlers. ‘Quel andune’means Good Afternoon. ‘Taerasai Maendasae’ is my name in the elvish tongue, and he said ‘Aa' menealle nauva calen ar' malta’ when done to formally take leave of me. It means ‘May your ways be green and golden’. The phrases I used show my respect for him as a member of the Guard. Lurus Beridan is his full name,” Metarie’s eyes twinkled as she looked up at Camulous, knowing he knew his guardsman’s full name, but teased him for it anyway. “The phrase ‘Lissenen ar' maska'lalaith tenna' lye omentuva’ means ‘Sweet water and light laughter till next we meet’, is a wished blessing, if you will, that good things will have happened between our meeting once again.” When she spoke, her words and tone were fluid, graceful, and melodic; even possessed of a slightly exotic accent.

Metarie’s smile changed, becoming more gentle, kind, and soft as she explained the meaning behind her words. The formal expressions were typically used only in elvish, so the meanings may not have been well-known. The thing Camulous probably did not know out of the whole exchange would be Metarie’s proper name. All of the elvish settler’s names were originally in elvish, but the settlers changed them to show unity with their human counterparts. Only the Elves would remember and use the true names.

The smithy was next door to Metarie's house. Kona skirted the fenced backyard to go to the open field beyond. He needed a little privacy while he 'read the newspaper' - a euphemism, hopefully needing no explaination. Kona would return when done. Kona would often visit the smith, lounging near to the forge to enjoy the heat. Kona would also keep larger pests out of the smithy. The smith, in return, enjoyed the companionship and often asked Metarie when she intended to breed Kona. The smith was not the first to ask such a thing. Speaking of the smithy, he was at Metarie’s door, refitting the metal that had been bent out of shape by the weight of Idonir’s body.

“Kel!” Metarie greeted the man. “Thank you so much for taking time to repair these for me.” Kel Smith was a big, big man rivaling Idonir in build, but certainly besting Idonir in fitness. Where Idonir was thick around the middle from too much ale, Kel’s thickness was pure muscle.

“Miss Metarie, how are you?” Kel turned and gave Metarie a broad, genial smile. “Of course! Marylee would have my head if I didn’t make sure you were safe. Actually,” Kel slid his hand over the metal. Two bars had been fixed to the wood on the inside of the door, connected to the metal that edged the door. The recessed hinges had also been repaired. The door sat straight and solid back in the frame, “I’d just finished up here.”

Kel smiled humbly in pride. He loved working with his hands. Marylee, Kel’s wife, whom he had mentioned, was a strong, sturdy woman. Metarie had helped birth their first-born in Smith house. 20 years later, their son was finishing university and intended to apply for a position with the guard. Realizing Camulous was with Metarie, Kel’s eyes widened slightly. He made no assumptions as to why the pair were together. Recovering himself, Kel ducked his head and nodded to Camulous in greeting.

“Captain! A pleasure to see you, too. My boy talks about you often. He is finishing up University and hopes to apply to join the guard when he graduates.”

[Camulous Smithson]

"I hope you don't expect me to learn elven now," he said to her with a smile. "That language baffles me. I couldn't make sounds like that if I practised all year."

He had to admit that he liked the sound of elven when she spoke it. It was not masculine enough a tongue to hear from a soldier like Lurus, but from her lips it came as sweet as honey with a spice like cinnamon. For once, there was a part of a foreign culture he didn't look down on in suspicion. It was possible for him to see beauty in foreign things, as long as they came well packaged.

Familiar enough with the rough details of the elven first settlers and how they changed their names, he didn't enquire or remember particulars. They were just too confusing.

They reached her house, and Metarie exchanged a few words with Kel, who was fixing her door. Camulous knew the man, though not particularly well. He was a good man, like Camulous' father, who he no doubt knew when he was alive. Kel reminded Cam of his father in more than that he was also a blacksmith. His sense of honour and hard work, and something in his mannerisms.

It made Camulous feel strange sometimes, having older men regard him as an authority figure when he was only 33. He would have a hard time telling a man like Kel what to do, and not because of his size.

He nodded in return and said, "Well met, Kel. I'll gladly sponsor him if you send him my way. I'm sure he'll make a fine guardsman."

[Metarie]

Camulous' smile garnered another one from Metarie. Had she realized she wsa going around smiling from one end to the town to the other, she might have been a little embarassed. She was not being very self-aware, though, and such things were lost in the moment. Metarie shook her head and gave a soft laugh as Camulous commented on her native language.

"Thank you, Captain. I'll be sure to send him to you." Metarie looked at Camulous with a little pride and approval, pleased that he offered to sponsor the boy. Kel opened the door for the pair of them. The hinges were well-oiled and made no sound. "The metal was old. I'm not surprised they bent, though I can't imagine what you were doing to make them bend like that!" Kel grinned at Metarie. She responded only with a chuckle and a shake of her head.

"Stress-testing them, of course!" Metarie grinned back, obviously not going to give a better explaination than that. If Camulous wanted to share the details he could.

"Actually, Kel, you should probably check all the metal fittings. The storm shades seemed to be a bit off when I tested them last." Metarie paused to survey the handiwork. "Oh, you replaced the door supports, as well. Lovely!" Metarie looked up at Kel. "I look forward to seeing Marylee." Kel's wife handled the finances, leaving the craftsmanship to Kel. "And please let her know I'd like to have you do an assessment on those shutters for me." Kel gave a nod as he packed up his tools.

"I sure will, Miss Metarie." Glancing to Camulous, Kel ducked his head again. "Thanks again, Captain. The Missus'll be pleased." Metarie smiled as she watched Kel leave.

"Thank you for saying you'd sponsor their son. He is a good person, even if all he has ever wanted to do was be a guardsman." Metarie gave Camulous a wink. "I suppose you want your hat now..." She gestured as if ushering Camulous into her house. "Speaking of damaged property. I noticed some of my plants had been distinctly chewed by a horse. Happen to know anything about that?"

[Camulous Smithson]

Camulous wasn't inclined to give Kel any more of an explanation than Metarie did. It was not an event he was proud of, nor was it one he wanted spread around and gossipped about. The captain was not a liar; he had to tell the truth if anybody asked, which is why her evasive answer was perfect. He was grateful for it, so all he did was smile and act as though it was news to him.

He gave Kel a brief nod afterwards. "We need good men. This isn't a favour."

As Kel walked away, Camulous watched his back until Metarie said something.

Thank you for saying you'd sponsor their son. He is a good person, even if all he has ever wanted to do was be a guardsman.

"I can see it in his eyes. He isn't lying when he talks about his son, and I get the feeling if the boy did something wrong, he'd have more than me to deal with."

He was about to agree to get his hat back and follow her inside, when she mentioned what his horse had done to her plants. He wasn't sure what to say. She had him by the nuts again.

Lingering at the doorway, hesitant to go in, he said "I'll have a word with him..."

[Metarie]

Metarie couldn't help but laugh again. She wasn't sure where the joy in her came from, but he made her laugh genuinely.

"Oh, please do!" She could imagine Camulous having a serious talk with his horse. More laughter bubbled forth. "Go in, go in." She grinned as she waved him inside. "I really didn't mind."

The narrow hallway looked like it always did. There were still gouges and scuffs in the wall. She had to wait to get someone to come and repair the wall. Metaire pushed the door closed behind them. Camulous probably wouldn't notice she had cleaned the house thoroughly, except for the lingering scent of beeswax and verbena in the air and the fact that everything had been put to right. She shrugged out of the white lab coat she wore, leaving her in her usual slightly snug pants and tanktop. The ugly bruise that had flowered on her skin was still slightly visible, but the lines of bandages were no longer there. She tossed the coat across the chair that sat at her desk.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? I still have some of that ale left..." Metarie smiled over her shoulder at him as she led the way through the livingroom to the kitchen. "Have you eaten? I made more stew than I could eat." He could decline, of course. His hat sat upon the table, looking no worse for wear or cleaning. In truth, it did look like it had been dusted and cleaned a little, but not horribly so. Further inspection would reveal no burn marks and that it looked just as he had left it. Should he scrutinize it, he might - just might- find a single, very light, Metarie-sized thumb-print made of good, brown dirt at the rim closest to the hairline.

Metarie caught up the hat in her hands and pressed it to her chest as she waited for Camulous to answer her questions.

[Camulous Smithson]

The captain tried valiantly to glare at her but could muster not even the most pitiful glower. She was mocking him and his authority over a horse, which could not stand! It must not stand! And yet, he was so very unable to feign anger.

The worst part was the truth of it all. His horse liked to tease him. That damned animal knew it was one of the only creatures that could get away with it.

"I hope not. He never listens to me unless he wants to."

He still felt the same sense of comfort inside her home as he had outside with her and Kona. Even though he didn't notice her cleaning, he did notice that things felt different. The awkwardness, the sense of not belonging in a place so refined by a woman of her delicate tastes, was much diminished. In its place was the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he could relax and fit in somewhere that wasn't a barracks.

"Some tea would be nice, and I haven't eaten, but I don't want to impose..." He stopped when he saw her hugging onto his hat, and interrupted himself. "You don't look willing to give it up."

[Metarie]

Metarie laughed a little and relaxed her grip on the hat. A slight tinge of color crept across her cheeks. "No, oh.. no, I... here." She held out the hat, then put it on the table.

"I'll make us something. It won't take long." Moving around the kitchen gave her something to do. She fell into the familiar routine of filling the kettle, starting the stove, and getting the stew from cold pantry.

"There are bowls and cups in that cabinet, if you'd like to take care of setting the table." Metarie smiled at him as she moved the stew to the stove.

[Camulous Smithson]

He smiled when she started blushing. She was always an attractive woman, but when she blushed and acted demure, it made her that much cuter. It also meant that he wasn't the only one being flustered between the two them. A relationship like this was uncharted waters, and he didn't want to feel like he was going it alone.

Once she placed the hat on the table, he reached out to take it, but stopped himself and decided to leave it where it was. He felt as though, perhaps, he should leave it with her. He didn't want the thing so badly that it was his only reason to come and see her. It was only an excuse.

"Yes, good doctor," he responded in the formal fashion when she asked him to help set the table.

As he did so he wondered to himself what Seventri would have to say about his current situation with the elf. The two no doubt knew each other even better than Camulous knew Metarie. They were both doctors, and both older than he was. The simple answer was that he would be all for it. He always encouraged Camulous to find a good woman.

With the table set, he pulled up a seat and watched her do the cooking.

"I have heard that a raid of brigands attacked Shim last night, and ended up face to face with the old one. They say he hasn't shown force like that in fifty years. They say the things he does to them are too hideous to describe."

[Metarie]

His smile meant he she was caught in the act of being flustered, which made the color flare a little higher on her cheeks. Metarie grinned through it, though, amused by the circumstances and because she liked his smile. Camulous smiled so rarely, but she had seen him smile a few times today. She gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thank you, Captain,” She replied primly with a little wink. Then, for a brief moment, she followed the movement of his body with her gaze as he reached up and retrieved bowls and cups and placed them on the table. He looked good doing that; natural, even. Metarie turned back to the stew and stirred it before moving the kettle from the stove.

Pulling over the tin holding the tea, she filled the tea ball with leaves and hung it over the edge of the tea pot before pouring in the water. The tea pot, a bowl of sugar, and a small jug of milk were placed on the table. A cozy was pulled over the pot to keep it warm while the tea brewed.

"I have heard that a raid of brigands attacked Shim last night, and ended up face to face with the old one. They say he hasn't shown force like that in fifty years. They say the things he did to them are too hideous to describe."

Metarie paused mid-action. Her brows drew together and she almost made a gesture of ingrained superstitions to ward against his visiting her house. It was said he preferred elves to humans. She made herself move again. She leaned against the counter while she stirred the stew, lounging and relaxed.

“My… they must have been a serious threat for him to come out.” She remembered hearing of him, but she was only 45 at the time. Then, she was still a seeker for the government of Marn.

“I was quite young then, but I remember hearing my parents talk of him in hushed tones.” Metarie gave Camulous a smile that held a fragility brought on by childhood fears one thinks one has conquered but that still can have a little sway. After all, the Old One was very real and what he could do made evident again.

“Our elders used to use him as a sort of bogey-man to keep us in line. He likes pretty, little elves you know,” Metarie shook her finger at Camulous, making a stern face, “so you better be good or we’ll send you to stay in his house and you’ll never be seen again!” Not a memory she cherished, when one considers the threat of being sent away to him just because you did not agree with what your elders told you. “I’m not sure, but I think I might have seen him once, when I was quite small...”

Metarie tried not to remember, although she could not help but remember being very afraid. She turned back to the stew, stirring it vigorously, with her brows drawn together - a long-fingered, aristocratic hand brushing feathersoft against her jaw, turning her face from one side to the other. It was the eyes that had stood out, though, and the magic; almost as if he was bathed in it from the inside out or like something else crawled around inside him. A headache jumped at her temples as if to encourage her to put the memory back down where it belonged. Some things are best left forgotten.

Turning, Metarie brought the now heated stew to the table as well, placing the pot on a pot-holder to keep it from scalding the table. Lastly, she reached for fresh, crusty bread and sweet cream butter and put that on the table as well. Taking a seat, she joined Camulous.

“If you’ll ladle the stew, I’ll pour the tea. Do you want cream and sugar?”

[Camulous Smithson]

Camulous nodded in agreement when she said the brigands would have to be a big thread for the vampire to awaken. He'd never met Belatucadrus himself, and knew only a handful of people who had. It was likely that most, if not all of the judges knew the Old One. The vampire constituted the entirety of the political body of Shim. Marnian politicians had nothing to do with the town, and the people of shim were organized only enough to do the essentials.

The captain also had his own suspicions that the battlemages knew the Old One. They were so secretive that there was no way to find out.

"You should be doubly afraid if it's the pretty ones he likes," he said, trying to play his wit with a half-grin. But he could see, before he was finished speaking, that something was bothering her. She had seen the Old One, and that memory left her with the same conflicted look that haunted others.

When offered cream and sugar, he said "yes, please," and proceeded to serve the soup as requested. He continued on the subject at hand, interested in the kinds of stories someone who'd lived in Marn for so many years more must have.

"I have a great deal of respect for those farmers. They are tough people to live outside of our immediate protection."

[Metarie]

Metarie cut her eyes to Camulous and smiled pleased with the compliment. "Thank you," she replied softly. Nodding, she added cream and sugar to both of their teacups. "It is probably more challenging, but it probably has advantages of which we may not be aware. Certainly closer to the land there, than here..." Metarie poured the tea in the cups.

"I imagine they must be. I think we take much for granted here. The meat we eat, the milk we drink, much of the grains we use - all this comes from Shim does it not?" Metarie reached for the sliced bread and spread butter on it. Then, bread in one hand and spoon on the other she smiled as she said,

"To everything its purpose, for that I give thanks. Please, help yourself."

With that, she began to eat.

[Camulous Smithson]

"It does." Came his simple acknowledgement.

His usual, untalkative nature was showing itself again. There were few people he could talk to about the things that mattered to him. Horseplay, gossip and politics he got more than enough of with the men, but here he had someone seated before him who knew more about the tomes, more about the history and culture of Marn than he did. In that respect, Metarie held an almost mystical quality about her. What secrets she must know; what advice she must have. He wanted to probe her for more, but he didn't want to bother her or upset the mood with more memories of her past.

He offered a smile in return to hers, and began to eat. His eyes turned downward to focus on the food, and his thoughts likewise turned inward. The captain began to have doubts. Again he wondered what happened to change their relationship like this. Was it really the place for him? Was he still going to feel so at home if he met her in a week? A month? What would someone as gentle and caring as her see in a stone soldier like himself, and what could he possibly offer her?

[Metarie]

Metarie enjoyed the savory and flavorful taste of her meal, content with the quiet. A few times she would look at Camulous, just because. His silence was not a problem for her. She was used to quiet. After all, she had lived alone, but for Kona for many years. Even her dog was soft-spoken.

After a while, she reached for her tea and sipped from the cup. "I don't remember much of meeting him, other than he seemed unnatural to me and I was afraid of him. I remember he was attractive in form, although I did not find him so. He held my face in his hand and studied me as he spoke. I was young and he is the Old One." Metarie smiled a little. "You can imagine such things are hyper-memories. Some things stick out as if you are looking at a picture that moves, others just fade in gray-black." Metarie shrugged.

"I am not so sure that I would want to meet him again, but curiosity tugs at me anyway. I wonder if he has changed at all. I wonder what things he could tell us, should he choose want to tell us anything." Metarie fell silent, thinking again. Focusing back on Camulous, she said simply, "I am glad you are here." This was followed by an open, accepting smile.

[Camulous Smithson]

The food was, not surprisingly and like everything else in his immediate surroundings, far better than what Camulous was accustomed to. He was trained to eat quickly - a guardsman often had to wolf things down in a hurry as a matter of lifestyle and necessity. It was a hard habit to break and with food so good, he didn't think of slowing down. He did, at least, have good table manners. The stew was half gone in a matter of seconds, but without making a mess of things. It was just the natural pace at which he ate. He only slowed down to listen to her speak.

"I have memories like that too," he said, recanting easily, having come to terms with his memories long ago, "of the day my father died."

He then shifted the topic, never one to dwell. "Even the toughest men I know say they're weary around the Old One. I don't fear him though. I share your curiosity. It is strange to have a man so entrenched in our world without ever seeing his face or hearing his words..."

Camulous wanted to meet Bela, though he'd not say it. The chill that Kaledin manor sent up the captain's spine was not fear, it was awe. That place was more of a sacred place to him than a demon's lair. It was a place to send an oracle for a divination, not a place to destroy.

I am glad you are here. She said, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up from his bowl at her, the spoon slowly taking a resting place on its rim. He didn't know what to say to that. Her words carried a lot more than was on the surface. More entirely new emotions started to surface and Camulous didn't know what to make of them.

He just stared at her while she smiled, and he managed to smile back although his eyes were full of affection tempered with confusion and worry. There was no longer a protocol to follow.

"I'm not good at this..."

[Metarie]

"I'm not good at this..."

Metarie just looked at Camulous for a moment, then blinked. She glanced down at the table with her eyes as graceful, long fingers lifted to press against her lips. Closed-mouthed, she still smiled. When she looked at Camulous again, the warmth and humor in her gaze was obvious. Her hand fell away from her lips. Her head tilted to the side as she rested the curve of her jaw on her knuckles.

"I think most people reply with "Thank you, I'm glad to be here as well," she smiled more, "You could follow that up with something like "Metarie, this stew is delicious."

"Would you like more?"