12.20.08 - The Story Tells Itself

Location: Redwall Cavern Hole

Characters Involved: Sivaine, Zade, Tameus

Sivaine just.. doesn't talk. She's busy eating, not paying attention to anything but, well, food. She's not wolfing, but possibly foxing, or at the least fennecing. It's eating less for enjoyment than it is for the sheer sake of fuel.

Zade's plate is almost spotless in a matter of minutes. The less time it takes to eat, the longer he has to digest before going out again - so now the otter leans back in his seat, eyes shut, sipping the cider and relaxing.

From the great hall comes Tameus, now - plucking his gloves off one at a time, wearing his new cloak and boots. He pauses near the steps, looking around, and then aims toward Sivaine when he sees her.

And then it's.. gone. Sivaine blinks, looking surprised at the sudden lack of food on her plate, and reaches for her tea with her left paw as if doubtful it won't disappear on her. Tam goes unnoticed for the moment.

Tameus coughs once and rubs at his muzzle. He goes up to Sivaine - pushes a chair in front of hers and gets up into it. "Hi."

Zade's eyes crack open slightly to watch the leveret.

Sivaine looks sideways over the edge of her cup. "Tam. Hi," she returns casually, then huffs a sigh at nothing in particular. Just. Sitting. Down. She looks at the tea. She drinks the tea.

"Y' look tired," Tameus says carefully. "'ave y' not been sleepin' well?"

"No, I've been sleeping too well," Sivaine replies. She glances briefly at Zade's chair, or the back thereof. "But yes, I'm tired."

Zade smirks, and shuts his eyes again. He sips the drink again and sets it down, leaning back in the chair and making himself comfortable.

Tameus nods. "Well like I sai'. Y' look 't." One hand is on each arm of the chair he occupies, fingertips drumming as he watches her. "So. Sivaine." He's using her Full Name.

More tea. Sivaine sets the cup down for a minute and sits back. "So. Tam." She looks at him over her shoulder while she stretches her arm out, flexing the palm and feeling tired muscles shift.

Tameus says, "I wann' tell y' a story, Sivaine. Y' like stories, don' y'?"

Right, he's up to something, but she couldn't be buggered to care less right now. "I collect stories," she says, "which is not the same thing." She locks her arm behind her head now, twisting the other up from below to make fingertips almost touch. "Go ahead and tell me your story."

Sivaine says, "If it's short. I have somewhere to be in a while."

"'s short," the leveret says with a nod. He takes a breath, then starts.

Sivaine just concentrates on her stretching. Palms interlaced, stretched out in front of her now. She closes her eyes.

"There was a prince in a fores' once, a lon' time ago," Tam says. "'e was all alone. Then 'e met a.. a un'corn. Y' know what a un'corn is, don' y', Siv?"

"Mhmm," Sivaine murmurs. "I do. Can I ask you a question about your story?"

"What's th' question?" he counter-asks.

"Why was he alone in the forest?" she returns, eyes still closed. "That's a story too."

"I'll tell y' that one later," the leveret says.

Sivaine says, "All right. Go on. Nf."

Zade is still awake, though he'd rather not be. His round ears flick to this conversation.

Tameus continues, "Th' un'corn took care'a th' prince an' made 'im not alone. An' th' prince loved th' un'corn more'n anythin' e'er in th' world."

"But then a witch came."

"Mm," Sivaine assents. She's listening. She rotates her shoulders back, listening to the joints pop.

Sivaine asks, "A horrible nasty witch? Ugly?"

"No," the hare says with a shrug. "She was pretty. .. but evil all th' same."

Sivaine says, "Ah. One of those. All right."

"An' she put a spell on th' un'corn an' th' un'corn f'got 'bout th' prince an' stopped lovin' 'im."

"Now th' un'corn loved th' witch 'nstead. But th' witch didn' /need/ th' un'corn like th' prince did."

Tameus concludes, "So's th' prince was alone 'gain."

"Hmm," says Sivaine. She feels the muscle, or lack thereof, on her forearm. Holds it up. Eyes the scars. "So what did the prince do?"

"I d'nno. I 'aven' finished th' story yet," Tam says.

"Uh huh," says Sivaine again. "I have a few of those." She spreads her fingers and braces them against her other palm, bending them back. "So the witch was selfish."

"I d'nno. D' y' think th' witch was?" Tam asks carefully, watching her.

"It's your story," Sivaine points out. "You know more about the witch than I do."

"But y'r th' one who tells stories, not me," the buck responds, brows lifted. Expectantly.

"Anyone can tell stories." Sivaine starts bending each finger separately, then folding them against her palm. "And everyone's witch is a little different."

Sivaine says, "So I want to know about /your/ witch, Tam."

Tameus says, "Maybe my witch jus' doesn' know any better."

Tameus says, "Maybe she doesn' know what she's doin'."

Tameus says, "Maybe she doesn' /mean/ t' be evil. She jus' wants th' un'corn t' much t' realize."

Sivaine says, "Hm. Maybe the witch thinks she's in a different story. Why is she a witch?"

Tameus purses his lips a little. "'cause she took th' un'corn," he specifies. "There's a /whole/ fores' full'a things. Dragons an' fairies an' .. all sorts'a things. But she took th' one thing th' prince loves."

"Mm," goes Sivaine again. "Better than it being because she lived alone in the woods, or knew things, or had a mark of some sort."

Tameus shrugs. "I d'nno. Doesn' matter. What matters is, she's evil an' th' prince is alone 'gain 'cause'a her."

Sivaine says, "Huh. What does the witch do with the unicorn? Does the spell wear off?"

Tameus says, "She jus' .. keeps th' un'corn wit' her. Makes 'im f'get. F'get e'erythin'."

Tameus says, "Th' un'corn was th' prince's un'corn but now 's th' witch's un'corn."

Sivaine says, "So she just wants the unicorn to.. have it. So the prince won't?"

Tameus says, "I d'nno. Maybe she'd share if she c'd."

Sivaine asks, "Why couldn't she?"

Tameus says, "Un'corn's aren' f' sharin', see. Un'corns.. they on'y love one person."

Sivaine says, "That's a bit different from the kind of unicorns I've heard of."

Tameus says, "Y' 'eard wrong, then."

Sivaine says, "No. I didn't."

Tameus's nose twitches. "'sides, 's my story."

"An' th' un'corns in /my/ story are like that," he mumbles.

Sivaine shrugs, turns it into a shoulder roll. "Hmm. What was so special about that unicorn?"

Tameus asks, "Whadda y' mean?"

Sivaine says, "Well. There's a whole forest full of magical things." She ticks her tongue over her teeth, rubs at one of the scars. Her mouth quirks to the side, unhappy - or just thoughtful."

Tameus shakes his head, and answers, "It was special 'cause 't was /his/." He coughs a little again, eyes shut, expression concentrating. "'t was th' on'y thing that loved 'im back. Th' prince."

Tameus continues, "'e wasn' supposed t' 'ave a un'corn. 'e wasn' supposed t' /be/ loved. 'e was /supposed/ .. t' be.. alone."

Sivaine picks up her tea again and downs the last swig. "Says who?"

"Says e'erythin'. That's 'ow 't works," Tam says. "They's magical things. Th' un'corns an' dragons an' all. No one can e'er 'ave more'n one."

Tameus says, "If th' one they 'ave gets lost, or dies.. they can' 'ave another."

Sivaine asks, "So he had a unicorn before?"

Tameus nods solemnly.

Tameus says, "But th' prince, 'e los' th' firs' one. 't died. That's th' story'a why he was alone."

"Mm." Sivaine nods thoughtfully. "But," she says, and starts her cycle of stretches again.

"But /this/ un'corn. 't loved th' prince e'en though 't shouldn'," Tam says, rubbing at his muzzle. "An' 't took care'a 'im an' kept 'im from bein' alone. 'til th' witch took 't f' 'erself."

Sivaine says, "I was going to say something else. Want to hear what it is?"

Tameus watches her for a moment, then nods.

Sivaine looks directly at Tameus then. "Princes get second chances."

"An' th' secon' chances are ruined by evil witches," is Tam's response.

Sivaine says, "Well, you haven't finished your story yet. Pretty bad story if it just ends like that."

Sivaine says, "So you have to finish it."

Tameus shrugs. "Not all stories end th' way y' want them t'."

Sivaine says, "But you're telling this one."

Sivaine asks, "Why tell a story you don't like? I don't. I change things."

"Th' story tells itself," Tam says firmly. His arms spread a little. "'m jus' th' vessel."

Sivaine shifts in her chair, placing both hands on her hips and arching her back, head back to the ceiling. "Then you're letting the story control you. That's not like you, Tam."

Tameus is silent for a moment. He lifts his eyebrows, just watching her.

Sivaine asks, "Don't you think so?"

Sivaine says, "It's a story. It only has the power you give it."

"Th' story jus' /is/, Siv," the leveret says now. "'t decides 'ow t' end. 's 'bout th' prince an' th' witch, an' what they do, an' what th' un'corn does. I can' control that. 'm jus' /me/."

"Mmf," Sivaine mutters, extending her arm out to the side and flexing her palm back. "A story never just is. They're what we want to happen, fear will happen, or think should happen. They're wishes and nightmares. This story sounds like the nightmare sort."

Tameus looks at her through his lowered lashes, expression tense. "'t is th' nigh'mare sort," he says, and moves to climb down from the chair now. "Th' worst sort'a nigh'mare. Y' know what kind that is, Siv?"

"The ones you're afraid are real," Sivaine murmurs quietly.

Tameus shakes his head a little, correcting her. "Th' ones that /are/."

The buck heads away from her now, toward the steps to great hall.

Sivaine stops stretching for a moment to watch him go. Her expression is sad, and tired.

"Hmnh," Sivaine thrums, then huffs a sigh. She stands. "Been two hours, Zade?"

Zade opens his eyes a little, grunts. "Not quite. Y' have another ten minutes t' feel like an arse, missus witch."

"I should, shouldn't I." Sivaine puts her paws on her hips, looking toward the great hall.

To his credit, the otter doesn't tease her further. He sips his drink again and then settled back to doze for the remaining time before they start training again.

Sivaine is just waiting for that response. When it doesn't come, she frowns faintly and turns around. "Zade."

Zade has his eyes shut as he grunts, "Nnh?"

Sivaine asks, "An arse?"

"Well, y' /do/ feel like an arse, don't y'?" the otter asks.

"I have a feeling I /ought/ to," Sivaine responds. "But I seem to be missing something." She pauses. "Don't say a heart."

"Wasn't goin' t'," Zade chuckles. He sits up more, cracks his eyes open. "Am I supposed t' guess?"

Sivaine says, "Why am I an arse, Zade."

Zade rolls his shoulders in a shrug as he gets up. "Yer an arse 'cause... y' don't listen t' what th' kid's tellin' y'. An' y' should. Y' need t' listen, Siv."

Sivaine squints. "I thought I was listening."

Zade asks, "So what'd 'e say, then?"

"He-" Sivaine starts, then shakes her head. "No." She lowers her eyes, looking off sideways. "He thinks I'm taking away an important thing. /The/ most important thing. He thinks I can just.. poof." She snaps her fingers.

"He didn' say anythin' 'bout 'poof'," Zade chuckles. He stands up, stretches his arms above his head. His muscles ripple and flex and he gives a satisfied 'nn' sound as his vertebrae pop. "So what's th' 'important thing', eh, girly?"

Sivaine pushes her chair in and picks up her dishes. "I just want to go running."

Zade says, "Sivaine."

Sivaine asks, "You're complaining about this?"

"Talk t' Harper. Tell him th' story," Zade says, shaking his head a little as he moves to her, and sets his hand on her shoulder. Squeeze. "He knows th' kid, doesn' he? Yeah? Better than anyone, y' figure?"

Sivaine just twitches under the touch. She flicks her ears back.

Zade absently brushes his fingertips at the outer edge of her ear. "Listen?"

Sivaine wrinkles her nose and turns her head away. "Nrf."

Sivaine says, "I could just leave."

"He's jus' a lost boy, Siv," Zade says, nodding to the great hall. "He's not so scary, is he?"

Sivaine just closes her eyes. "What does that have to do with the price of fish."

Zade chuckles and shakes his head. "Y' know what? Arright. I won't say anythin' 'til y' ask. Yer choice, girly." He heads past her to go toward the kitchen, aiming to exit through that breezeway. "C'mon."

"Mrrmf." So says Sivaine. She draws a breath and trails after, tapping her fingers on the sides of her dishes. "Dammit."