(CLOSED) You wouldn't hurt them

[sprent]

WHO: Gela and you
WHAT: h/c (hafterdemon content)
WHEN: After pride, before the fall <- modplot
WHERE: Many different places
NOTES: Reference to & discussion of kidnapping, mistreatment, starvation, trauma, neglect

Starters below. Let me know if you'd like a starter!

Comments

[wearyallalone]

He returns the smile. He's aware that to most everyone else, he and Gela must still look alarmingly unwell; he has, however, the privilege of seeing how much better she looks. Tired but clean and fed, and Gwenaëlle must have helped with her hair after all. It's cheering.

"Hello. I don't want to interrupt if you're busy, but I did promise to come check on you." And it's clear a promise from him is not an idle thing. He comes in properly and sets the wrapped parcel on the nightstand. "And I brought you a little something from the kitchens. Whenever you'd like it." He settles in a nearby chair, though lightly at first, as if he half anticipates she might shoo him off so she can keep working.

[sprent]

"Not busy," she confirms, pushing the work away across the bed. Well, yes busy, but not for Vanya, and she's already been told off by the healers for pushing herself to work too soon anyway so it's good to stop every once and a while and let them see you doing nothing or chatting with a friend.

When he sets the little parcel down on the nightstand, she touches his arm gratefully.

"I'm checking on you, too. How are you doing?"

She waits until he's settled before she lifts the parcel into her lap. Something from the kitchens? It does still feel warm. She unwraps the dish towel and beams, closing her eyes to breathe in the warm smell of cake, guessing, "Lemon? Thank you!"

[wearyallalone]

Her delight gets a smile from him, warm and genuine. "Well, I didn't make it, which is truly for the best. But I thought you might have mainly been working up from soup like I was, and I wasn't sure if you'd gotten as far as treats yet."

If he gets a lecture from Strange later, he's willing to brave it.

"And I'm well enough. Not allowed back to my duties yet, but glad I can at least get back on my feet. It feels good to just have the liberty to walk, you know?" He suspects she does, more than anyone beyond the four of them who'd been in those cells could imagine. With a small quirk to his smile, he adds, "Pamplemousse is very put out I haven't taken her flying yet. I'd explain if I could."

[sprent]

"No," she sighs, pinching off a bit of cake to put into her mouth right away, "They won't let me have anything exciting." Plain soup, plain bread. They are 'building her back up' or so they say; this makes the lemon cake taste even better to her now and she holds it out to Vanya to try, keeping it between the both of them so they can both help themselves. The sugar dissolving on her tongue is almost too sweet somehow.

At his question, she hmms in agreement. It is nice to walk around. To be able to stretch her legs and leave when she wants to (mostly). Of course, everybody is being extra kind to her; it makes Gela want to scream.

She chins her hand. She thinks of Pamplemousse waiting impatiently to go flying. Conversationally, "I have been thinking of getting a pet."

This is not entirely so she doesn't have to go back to an empty bedroom and relearn how to live in it, but...

[wearyallalone]

Vanya hopes he hasn't undone some carefully mediated choice about her diet, but on the other hand, he feels in a unique position to gauge just how much it matters to eat something for pleasure and not just nourishment. He takes a little of the cake, carefully, and has a piece too.

"Have you?" of wanting a pet. "Are you thinking of any particular kind?" He can see the appeal. While Pamplemousse is not a pet, any more than his horse is, animals can offer a less-complicated companionship that is sometimes especially welcome.

[sprent]

"A bird," Gela muses, "Or an insect. I haven't decided, I've just been thinking...

"There is a lot of time for thinking." She usually spends it remembering things that aren't so nice and feeling scared, then feeling silly and angry for being scared when she's safe, double-safe while she lives in one of the infirmary beds. Telling Vanya she might get a pet isn't because she really thinks that she might but because she's casting around for something nice to say.

The dungeon and cages feel like they're sitting in the corner of the room, waiting for her to mention them.

She has another bit of cake.

[wearyallalone]

"I've never had a pet," he confesses, "but I've always been fond of animals. They can be good company." It occurs to him that he, too, could get a pet if he wanted one. Other members of the company balance their duties with caring for a companion animal. But he's spent so long without it being an option, he hasn't given it any thought until this moment.

He's no less aware of what is in the corner of the room than she is, though he seems calm. Instead of agitation, the awareness manifests in keeping the conversation going when he might generally fall back on companionable silence.

"Do you need anything other than cake for now? Books, or ... I don't want to rush your healing, but if you could get permission to go out with company, I wouldn't mind giving you an arm to lean on for a short walk." Presumably anyone else who hadn't just gone through what they'd both been through would be a better candidate, but that's an argument for someone else.

[sprent]

"I might need more cake," she says, with mouth full. She can tell what he's doing and is grateful for it, picking up the conversational hook without commenting, "But a walk would be so nice. We should go."

As in without permission and also right now. She is already pushing back covers to swing her legs around and making sure to take the cake with her, lifting it from the bed. It's not like she is wearing 'hospital' clothes or anything, just a simple blouse and skirt. Her shoes are by the door. She flaps one hand at Vanya. "Quickly."

Before somebody pokes their head in and makes this not happen—

[wearyallalone]

There's a moment when she can see the rule-follower in him inclined to resist. But then, truly the worst that could happen would be a lecture and, perhaps, his having to enlist some help to get her back to the infirmary. And he knows from personal experience the difference that getting out from the same four walls made, even if he'd known he wasn't being held prisoner.

Decision made, he rises and offers her an arm once she's slipped her shoes on. If she leans on him, it's likely to look more as if the outing is sanctioned. (And if she actually needs to lean on him, well, the cover will mean she needn't hesitate over asking.) For all she urged speed, once they're outside the pace he sets is steady, for his sake as well as hers, and he points them toward one of the gardens.