( closed ) embrace like an avalanche

[villieldr]

WHO: Lakshmi & Magni
WHAT: working with an ex with awkward, sometimes
WHEN: mumbles vaguely
WHERE: smithy
NOTES:

( The hours in the smithy are long, working iron into steel and steel to blades. She is hammering at something when the door opens, presently alone in her work, beating hammer to metal with a steady rhythm. Her skin seems almost to glow in the light from the forge, and her skin runs with sweat from the heat of it. Such a heat might be oppressive to a good many, and that she could hardly fault them for.

The door opening hardly means inherently that someone needs her attention, and so she pays it little mind, stepping to the bellows to make the fire burn more fiercely, so that the blade she is presently working on can be re-heated once more, as she continues to progress with it. It was not that she lacked for work generally speaking, but with a battle lurching closer, many more blades and weapons needed making.

It's when she is collecting up the blade that she looks towards the door, and stops.

Ah. )

Comments

[shri]

[ she chuckles, a brief respite, an excuse to let air into her lungs and to let her head clear from the after haze of warmth and touch.

It only sort of works. ]

Be sorry for a hundred things, Magni, but I don't think I could bare it if you were sorry for kissing me.

[ which is - saying too much. When she knows it's a torment. That Magni should make a sensible choice to leave her. To take only her satisfaction over their time together and go. ]

[villieldr]

( A little huff of breath, echoing Lakshmi's amusement, as she reaches to her without looking, hoping that Manu will take her hand. Her mouth quirks very slightly, not quite a smile - she couldn't begin to bring herself to, even deliberately. )

Sorry only if I hurt you.

( Because Lakshmi matters, is precious, essential. )

I'm not good at these... things.

[shri]

And I, you. [ It isn't even a hesitation, reaching back for her. The brush that as ever, she turns back, and rather it, limit it, because this might -

It isn't worth considering what it might and might not be. Only what is. She falls back, to join Magni lying on the bed. Not looking at her, but draping against her stomach. A comfort snatched up in a mild, that melt away of pretense and position and all else that becomes Rani, Lakshmi.

Settled, she curls Magni's arm around her waist to rest on her belly. ]

Then we are well matched.

[villieldr]

( Despite all this absurdity, this pain, a little smile flickers at the corner of her mouth, and she gently wiggles her fingers against Lakshmi's belly, a brief tickle, before laying her hand flat. )

I—

( A struggling sound, a huff of breath. )

You— deserve someone who is, ( She gestures to her throat and her mouth, before remembering Lakshmi isn't looking, ) an able speaker.

[shri]

Whatever gave you that impression?

[ Considerately, she doesn't elbow her back for that little mutter. ]

I talk enough for the both of us, or at least Commander Coupe would probably say so.

[villieldr]

( Magni's shoulders rise with the brief breath of laughter. )

She is Orlesian. They only like the sounds of their own voices.

( Coupe seems steady, capable, their conversation had been sensible and she did not appear to have an ego to match her station.

And yet.

But she was asked a question, and her mouth works awkwardly, silently, for long moments. ) I only know what I see. People like... quick jokes. Charming speeches.

[shri]

[ Lakshmi smiles despite herself, but without lifting her eyes, comfortable, content in the bitter cold of the Gallows at present, with the wonderful heat Magni put out. ]

I would rather a few words offered wisely than many words offered foolishly.

[villieldr]

( A quiet scoff. )

The majestic Hold Duck of Talonhold.

( So wise. )

[shri]

[ She groans, tempted to shove her off. ]

The Majestic nothing.

[villieldr]

( LE GASP

LE SCANDAL

she looks as though she may swoon from the shock of this )

[shri]

[ YEAH YOU HEARD HER.

Which is to say she finds that soft spot, right between hips and ribs, all flesh, and with unerring accuracy, digs her fingers in there.

That's what she thinks of that. ]