Cael & Lancaeriel | 119 4A+

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Cael & Lancaeriel | 119 4A+

Post by Nara-pyon on Sat Feb 20, 2016 9:47 pm

Where: The Tent, Eastern Keliac, Arkandia
When: Late Winter, 119 4A
 
Despite everything that had been happening with the group as they traveled, Cael and Lancaeriel were enjoying the experience immensely. Being with others was a relatively new thing for them – since their time with the druids, it had just been the two of them – but they loved it. Both of them. They still had plenty of time to themselves. Lancaeriel was reacquainting herself with her old research and adding to it, and Cael was able to do as much painting as he wanted. They enjoyed the gardens, the real outdoors; they loved to pass on their knowledge to anyone who was interested in learning from them, and though Miyuki was their main student, Shiro had begun now to show an interest in magic, and Shoneah and Rose popped in from time to time with some questions.
 
But there was one thing that was on Lancaeriel’s mind, now more than ever, that she had yet to speak with her husband about. Something that she knew would dredge up old memories, painful memories: memories they had promised each other they would not speak of ever again.
 
They were half a day’s journey from Saldalien, stopped for the night, and though Cael had dropped off to sleep without any trouble, Lancaeriel found herself unable to sleep. She lay on her back, her eyes fixed on the blank ceiling, listening to her husband’s even breathing. She was comfortable for a while, but every few minutes she would have to shift her position to renew her level of comfort.
 
Finally, somewhere past midnight, Cael sighed heavily and opened his eyes partway. “Are you going to sleep?” he mumbled semi-consciously. “Or are you going to keep me awake all night?”
 
“Sorry,” Lancaeriel whispered, sighing and trying to lie still again. “I’ll try not to move.”
 
Rather than going back to sleep, however, Cael lifted his head and looked at her, blinking slowly in the darkness. “What’s wrong, Lan?” he murmured with a frown.
 
She rolled onto her side to face him. “I can’t,” she sighed. “Not without breaking our promise.”
 
Cael’s frown deepened, and he put his arm under his head and settled again, more awake now. “You want to talk about Rian.”
 
There was a pause before Lancaeriel murmured, “Indirectly.”
 
Cael sighed softly and rolled onto his back. One hand went over his eyes, and he rubbed them gently.
 
“I’m sorry,” Lancaeriel said quickly, sitting up. “I know we promised, and I know it’s the middle of the night-”
 
“No,” he interrupted her, pushing himself into a sitting position as well. “It’s troubling you.”
 
“But-”
 
“Lan, just say it.”
 
Lancaeriel swallowed hard and looked down at her hands. “I want to try again,” she whispered.
 
She closed her eyes and waited for his protest. It didn’t come – at least, not right away. When she opened her eyes again and looked at him, he was rubbing his temples as if warding off a headache.
 
“Cael?”
 
He rubbed his eyes once and looked at her again. With a soft sigh, he created a small light orb, one just bright enough to illuminate their faces so that they could have a proper conversation.
 
“It’s … rather sudden,” he began softly.
 
Lancaeriel nodded and looked down again. “I know. That’s why I didn’t want to spring it on you in the middle of the night.”
 
“I know,” her husband murmured, reaching over and putting his hand on hers. “I asked.”
 
He ran his fingers lightly across the back of her hand as his sleepy mind struggled to put his thoughts together and then to form them into words.
 
“Lan,” he said softly, “after … after the last time, we agreed … that we should never have a child again. It was a hard decision, I know; but it wasn’t without reason.”
 
“But that was Ages ago,” Lancaeriel reminded him. “We’ve learned so much since then. We’re with others who live for something aside from magic, who live for … for life! So much has changed – our situation, our circumstance … even us.” She turned towards him and cupped his face in her hands. “We made mistakes,” she whispered in a strangled tone, “but I believe that we can do it right this time. We tried to play creator with Rian. We had no right to do so and we paid the price for it.”
 
“No, she did,” Cael disagreed. He pulled his hands from his wife’s, threw back the blankets, and got out of bed. He was irritated. He needed to move. He started to pace the room beside the bed.
 
Lancaeriel just watched him silently. He was right. Their daughter had been the one to pay for their egos.
 
“I’m sorry,” she sighed softly, drawing her legs up, wrapping her arms around them, and resting her chin on her knees. “Now neither of us are going to sleep tonight.” She closed her eyes, tipped her head forward, and rested her forehead on her knees instead.  
 
“Lan …” Cael stopped and looked at her sadly. She didn’t respond, and he moved around to her side of the bed and sat next to her. With a sigh, he put one hand on her back and moved it slow circles.
 
“Look, Lan,” he murmured, resting his forehead against her temple, “I’m not saying no. I’m not saying yes, either, but … it is something that we’re going to have to think a lot about. Being who we are, it’s not something we can do lightly – we discovered that already.”
 
“I have been thinking,” Lancaeriel said quietly, without looking up. “Long and hard. And it is something that I just … cannot get out of my head. I know I can’t make up your mind for you, and I won’t force you into anything … but this is something that I really … really want.”
 
Cael put both arms around her and held her close. “I know … I know.” He kissed her hair softly. “Just … let me think about it, all right? It’s … big.”
 
Lancaeriel turned and burrowed herself against her husband’s chest. Her cheeks were wet with tears. Softly, quietly, she murmured, “Thank you.”
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Re: Cael & Lancaeriel | 119 4A+

Post by Nara-pyon on Sun Jul 10, 2016 1:39 am

Where: The Tent, far eastern Keliac, Arkandia
When: Late Winter, 119 4A
 
It was not for no reason that Cael had declined to join the travelers outside the tent when they left the little Light Elven town of Saldalien behind. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like walking, or that he was tired, or that he wanted to be alone; in point of fact, he wanted to take the opportunity of Lancaeriel being otherwise occupied (and unable to check in on him) to work on (and hopefully complete) a very special project.
 
It had been a little over a week since she had told him of her desire to try again to have and raise a child, and since that night, she had been faithful in her promise not to bother him about it again, but to let him consider the matter on his own for a while. And he had thought about it – a lot. Almost constantly.
 
His main reason for resisting the idea was simple. Fear. What he and Lan had done with Rian – everything, right from her conception – had been an experiment in magic for them. They had forgotten that they were dealing with a life, a living soul, and their daughter had paid the price for their arrogance. He had no idea if she were still alive or not, but he did know that if she were, her life was not a happy one. He and Lancaeriel were responsible for her life of misery, of unending suffering, and his fear – his greatest fear – was that they might be tempted to try again, and bring another soul into the world just to torment it.
 
But if they just left it all to nature …
 
He couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that wanted to try again as well. In a sense, he was already jealous of the child – if there would be a child. He had only just been reunited with Lancaeriel, and a part of him didn’t want to share her. But if they could do it right this time, not interfere, then – and this was his rational side taking over – they would grow even closer, not just as husband and wife anymore, not just as lovers, but as a family.
 
The biggest reason he was working on this special project, however, was the simplest.
 
He wanted Lancaeriel to be happy.
 
At present, there were four rooms off their sitting room: their bedroom, a closet for their clothes, his studio, and her study. But there was space between the doors of the closet and his studio – space enough for another door, and therefore space for another plane. And he might not be as fast as his wife when it came to runes, but that did not mean he was not capable.
 
He estimated that he had about five hours before the group would stop for lunch. Unless something came up, it would be plenty of time.
 
And it was.
 
The design he had gone for was simple, but practical and comfortable: a wooden slat floor, like most of the other rooms in the tent; walls that were a soothing green; and a thick, round rug on the floor, soft on the feet but not so thick as to be a tripping hazard.
 
It was a start, anyways.
 
There was room for a crib, a rocking chair, a change table, a chest of drawers, and a chest for other things a baby might need. Of course, he would have to ask Daeron for help with the furniture – but there would be time. And Cael would help as much as he could, too.
 
A quick check of his pocket watch showed that he still had over an hour before he expected the tent to be set up again – if they did set it up for lunch. Sometimes they just waited for evening to put it up again. Still, it was enough time to get some painting done.
 
Who knew how much he could accomplish before he showed it to Lancaeriel?
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Re: Cael & Lancaeriel | 119 4A+

Post by Nara-pyon on Sun Jul 10, 2016 2:19 am

Where: The Tent, far eastern Keliac, Arkandia
When: Late Winter, 119 4A
 
It was late afternoon when Cael started to hear voices out in the hallway. He was in the middle of painting a rainbow on the wall of the new room he had created, but he didn’t want Lancaeriel to simply walk in and see what he had been working on, so he closed up his paints, rinsed his brush, and brought them back into his studio before heading out to see where she was.
 
“Wow, it smells good out here,” he noted with a smile, sliding his door closed behind himself but pressing himself against the wall so as not to block the hallway. Several people were heading to their rooms, and since his door was halfway down the hall, a number of them had to make their way past him.
 
“I take it from that comment that you were not a part of it?” his wife laughed as she approached him, her bag in her arms.
 
He leaned forward and greeted her with a kiss. “No, I was otherwise occupied,” he grinned. He took her bag from her and slid the door open again. “Come inside. I have something to show you.”
 
Surprise reflected in Lancaeriel’s eyes, but it quickly turned to curiosity and she stepped into their room obediently. She spotted the new door immediately.
 
“Cael …”
 
He smiled and set her bag on the floor, sliding the door closed once more and shutting out the noise of the corridor. “Come on,” he said, taking her hands and leading her forward.
 
She followed him, her brow furrowed, though there was a smile on her lips. When he brought her into the new room, she looked around, not understanding what it was for or why he had made it. “Cael … what is this?” she asked him.
 
He grinned. “It’s not quite finished,” he told her. He put one arm around her waist and stood beside her. “Allow me to show you my vision for its completion.”
 
Extending one hand forward, he summoned coloured light to create the illusion of the room’s future furnishings. To the right of where they stood near the door, a wooden rocking chair appeared with an illusory Lancaeriel sitting in it. He continued counter-clockwise around the room: the changing table, the dresser, the toy chest, some shelves on the walls – and against one wall, the crib, inside which a blanket-wrapped bundle was squirming around.
 
He let the illusion stand for only a moment before lowering his hand and dissipating the images into a mist of rapidly fading light. Then he moved to stand in front of Lancaeriel and gazed down at her, smiling tenderly at her.
 
“Well?” he murmured softly.
 
Tears were pooled in her pale eyes, and her chin was trembling.
 
“Then-” she whispered.
 
His smile widened, and he lightly brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I have only one condition,” he said softly. “No magic this time.”
 
Lancaeriel threw her arms around him and kissed him hard, then buried her face against his chest and burst into tears.
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