princess_of_ida | IC Inbox

[They kissed and kissed and kissed some more. Soft and open, vulnerable and filled with everything. Ianthe had never expressed such before except with her sister, and even the was different than this. Was it Babs that made the difference? That didn't make sense considering how much he loved Coronabeth. Why would this--

Ianthe drowned her stray thoughts then, holding Gilia close as she enveloped her in the bleeding wound that was where Gilia's love had struck with the precision of an assassin. She wasn't sure how long the stood there kissing by the painted sea before Ianthe pulled back.]

I take it you like the painting. Let's sit down?

[ There isn't really any answer to that, that had not been said in a way far more profound than a simple yes. So giggling a little, she nods. Then she rises up when Ianthe pulls away to let her speak.

Her hands slip into Ianthe's, letting her lead her on. ]

By all means.

[To the couch Ianthe took them, sitting down in the corner with her leg stretched out along the back, Gilia pulled down to sit in the v formed with the freedom to face her. She brought Gilia's hands up to kiss before letting them go, her bone hand dipping down into a pouch tied to her hip, searching for something.]

I want to give you something... if you want it, that is. And you're willing to give me blood to store, but that's just for the wards.

[Finding what she agreed in the pouch, Ianthe took Gilia's hand and held it palm up. A key was pressed to her palm, Ianthe's eyes flickering up to find the sea queen's. She didn't say what the key belonged to, thinking it obvious.]

[ Like the day she vowed her acceptance of the Sea that lived within in Gilia, she felt the world go so very quiet, so very still, with a faint ringing of a far off bell that chimed something sweet and high.

She blinked widely, in shock - and selfish happiness as she looked at the key Ianthe offered. Yes, yes she can guess quite rightly, that the key is not to any chest or door, but to Ianthe's own house. Her property, shared, for Gilia to pass into as others could not.

Do not think it - she does not mean it that way. She does not. She does not. ]

Truly? I - [ her heart hammering, she wets her lips. ] - I am honored, my love. Are you sure?

[Ianthe knew not what it meant to Gilia, what such an act, an offer, was in her culture. That was true. The sentiment, though, was real.

She curled Gilia's fingers over the key, holding it with both of her hands.]

I trust you. I want you to be able to be here without needing me to invite you in. I... want to be pleasantly surprised to come home and find you here, a balm to my souls. I want you to find solace here, away from the mess out there. Safety. Security.

[Her thumbs rubbed Gilia's hand gently.]

I want you to have the freedom to find warmth in my bed in the middle of the night without needing me to wake. To know you are welcome and wanted.

So yeah, Lia, I'm sure.

[the tears were still drying from her happiness to say that they are more or less wet than before. But they were there as she smiles, she smiles so hard her cheeks hurt. Like she is suddenly, ten years younger to the twenty something she ought to be, happy and bright.

So happy she glows in it. ]

It would make me so happy, Tuerintis. I would like that, so very much.

[ Her fingers curl back over the key, but more importantly over Ianthe's hand. She does not mean like that, she reminds her traitorous wretched, elated heart, but it does not listen. ]

I promise, I shall never neaten your notes and move the bone piles, and I will always make sure you never go a day hungry.

[Why was she crying? It was just a key. Ianthe didn't think she was offering Gilia anything more than she already gave her aside from free access. But there was something about having a key that did denote a deeper relationship ~~real deep apparently~~. That smile was certainly something, though.]

My research is really the only sticking point. Same with not bringing anyone here without my knowledge. [The wards wish let them in anyway.]

Oh, I've offered Quentin temporary sanctuary here behind the wards if needed. Should I not be present but you are and he seeks it, cut your palm and pull him with your bloody hand across the threshold.

[ Real, real deep.

Possibly irreversibly deep, from the first time Ianthe's sure, elegant fingers slipped against the cool waters of her soul. ]

Of course, yes.

[ She brings her hand up, wiping away her cheek with the inside of her wrist as that smile never leaves her lips, bright and sharp. ]

You need my blood, yes? For the - ah, wards? How much? If it is a lot I will need to sing to ensure my other nature is unresponsive.

No more than a pint. That will last a while. Everyday, I'll need to replenish it, but nothing more than a human body can easily give.

[Ianthe smiled and leaned in to kiss away those tears.]

We can see to that later. I'll redo the wards in the morning. Come here.

[Wrapping her arms around Gilia, Ianthe lagged back into the corner of the couch, looking to have the other woman snuggle against her.]

There's a spot in my wardrobe I cleared for you to use, if you want to leave some clothing here.

[ She tumbles in with her, eagerly settling her body close by Ianthe's side, draping against her soft and warm as a blanket, just for her. ]

Thank you. [ Though she laughs a little. ] Not that I will take up ever much space. I will bring my spare shifts, at the least, I cannot say I have more than the few garments all told.

[ Lacking Ianthe's vanity, she had settled for the few pieces to get her through. ] Who painted the sea?

[Pleased to have Gilia resting against her, Ianthe idly toyed with a loose curl and closed her eyes.]

That one's Iggy's work. The night sky behind us was painted by Wesley. The majestic stag in the field of flowers found in the bedroom was Alina's. The wall in the kitchen is yours to do with as you please.

[ She settled the same, her arm looping loosely over Ianthe's waist, head on her shoulder. Lulled by her heartbeat against her ears. ]

I do not know if I can make anything so beautiful... [ She rubs her cheek there, in thought. ] Flowers... perhaps skulls wreathed in flowers for you.

Anything you want. The kitchen is more your realm than mine anyway.

[Ianthe chuckled a little, wondering if she'd ever be allowed in there again.]

There's a lot of knucklebones available if you want to use some. Harrow loved her knucklebones.

[ That's a new name. ]

Who is Harrow?

Reverand Daughter Harrowhark Nonagesimus. She's also a lyctor from the Ninth House. An incomplete one, but a bone adept. Her grasp of osseogenesis is far beyond anyone I've ever seen. She's the one that crafted my arm.

[Ianthe sighed, eyes closed.]

We were dating for a while. I had plans to marry her some day, but she's in love with someone else. She was here for a while but has disappeared. [Along with Corona. With Gideon.]

I am sorry.

[ She smooths her hands against her side. ]

You must miss her too, very much.

Yeah. Shared a room with her in the boarding house along with Kiriona. [Oh.] Kiriona is John's daughter. She's dead. Or was. Before the Duchess gave her life here. I suppose she's probably dead again.

She's my closest friend back home. The other Tower Prince, Heir to the Empire. A fun lay. Big and beefy.

John had a daughter?

[ That was - not expected. ]

How awful, for both of you.

Yeah. He didn't know about her until like a year ago when she was already dead. It's a whole mess of a story, involving treason and murder and cavaliers and revenants.

[Ianthe's bone fingers slipped into golden curls.]

Ask me some other day about that. I don't want to get depressed.

[ R I P ]

Is that the different types you have with - the spirits - not that is that, I understand - [ just the way she understands the different disciplines. ]

- You are good with the matter of skin and flesh. But Revered Daughter Harrowhawk is best with Os-ose... Os-..... bones.

[ Frick. ]

And... I suspect John is the best of... all of them? As he is 'God'?

Necromancy originated with John. It's different for him than it is for the rest of us. Best I can describe it as he just wings it while the rest of us need to be precise and articulate. Mathematical.

[It was so frustrating.]

By that definition, he can do anything but he's more of a generalist/jack-of-all-trades.

The rest of us fall under one of the three disciplines - flesh, bone, and spirit. Each House tends to favor one over the others though we're trained in all. [Some more than others.]

As Scion of the Third and in order to carry out my sister's con, I had to master flesh magic whether I wanted to or not, because it was expected for the Crown Princess. It was all show to me. My true field of study has always been as a liminal mage - an occultism. I studied Resurrection Theory. It's a very taboo path of study. And that is Spirit. I'm dual-specialized in both Flesh and Spirit.

Harrow mastered Bone and is shit at the other disciplines. She just has raw talent that's frankly unreal and unfair.

[ She gently brushes her fingers back and forth in thought, as Ianthe speaks, about the differences between John, Ianthe, Harrow and all the houses. ]

... I suspect that is because John is more like myself, than he is like you. He is containing a Spirit, not inherited ability. [ Her fingers then stop as she goes in thought. ]

But this is all so fascinating, forgive my questions. You seem to work on a premise of something that enables us to make the Bonds at all.

Yes, I learned that recently. [Don't mind the grumble in that. It's a sore subject.]

There's a lot of nuance within necromancy and further delineation within each discipline.

[And then Ianthe's thoughts swerved as the reference to Alecto had her thinking about that conversation with John.]

John told me something interesting the other day when we were taking about Pre-Res Earth culture and my interactions with this from Earth here. I already knew the Third House used to be called Neptune, but what Kohn told me is that the planet was originally named after a sea god. Neptune was a mythological sea god from before the Great Resurrection.

[Ianthe opened her eyes.] Isn't that something?

[ She pauses - tilting up to Ianthe, as she explains, and she starts to giggle. ]

So you are my Princess after all!

[ More and more giggling at her silly little idea, after all. ]

[The giggle caught her off guard. Ianthe was wondering if she missed something.]

Your princess?

Edited 2023-12-16 01:06 (UTC)

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Again, eventually, not everyday.

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