Apologies

[Rayvinn]

January 14th

An elf strolled up to the porch steps, quite alone and without visible weaponry. He was not dressed for work, but neither was his attire truly casual. He looked ready for a night out, at least, free of responsibility for a little while. He took up a casual lean against a bannister, eyes shifting up and down the street rather expectantly. Though his face was calm, the shift of his gaze might have betrayed some nerves.


Must be a night for the elves to come out of the woodwork; the Inn could use more decoration anyway. Decoration, indeed, as that long legged gait brought the Harbringer of Chaos within an elf's sight. She was dressed confidently, heels adding several more inches to her height as usual, to the length of the bronzed legs that peeked out beneath the hem of the knee length dress she wore. She was over an hour later than Shadow had requested that she meet him but there was no hurry to her steps, no urge to rush headlong into whatever awaited her. Though she was generally quite happy to rush right into whatever battle awaited her, this one didn't bring the thrill of danger so much as a feeling of...anxiety? One hand pressed lightly to her abdomen as the distance was closed, as a gesture of nerves, belying that exterior calm that had manifested itself into a somber mask upon her face. Finally she reached the walkway up to the Inn and stopped instead of approaching Shadow further. Clearing her throat lightly, she followed that with a very quietly spoken, "Baron." No pleasantries, not after their last meeting and what had caused the need for this one.


For his part he too was ready for battle, but he had no skills to speak of in this sort of conflict, the conflict between genders. Battle of the sexes? Whatever it was, Shadow had already fired off some seriously poor salvos. When he spotted her - the hour wait had done little to rile his already thin nerves, for what was an hour to an elf? - he straightened up, standing upright in a respectful posture rather than some rakish lounge against the bannister. To some, using his erstwhile 'title' might be considered pleasantry, but in truth it was like a blow to hear her speak so formally. But he could not expect much else. He said nothing at first, his eyes on her as he made his way down the steps separating them. Not too close - he allowed her plenty of space - and he inclined his head. "Lady Rayvinn, I see you received my missive." Where features had from a distance been icy, his eyes perhaps cold, when he neared her, the angles of his face and hard amber pupils of his eyes softened, warmed. But his obvious tension could be felt. "I thought we might share a drink, or some tea, in a place of your choosing." If she was here she'd read that request; he was merely confirming it, here and now.


With his movement, her tension increased and she took a subtle step to the side and around, a graceful arc made to appear that she moved closer to the steps, though made as he descended so that she maintained that space between them. She wasn't physically afraid of him, nor did she fear he would attack her; despite their last meeting, she did feel the elf had more honor than to accost a woman other than verbally, and she didn't presume that he did such a thing on a regular basis. Of course, her feelings were still injured and she was quite offended, but she'd had plenty of time over the past week to ponder that fateful day in the lounge. She'd thought over every meeting she'd ever had with the baron as well as what she'd heard about him from others and his atrocious behavior towards her didn't appear to be common behavior for him. This was the reason she had agreed to meet him. Had he been such a rake commonly, she'd have dismissed him from her mind and gone about her life as she had prior to meeting him. Being as things were, she hadn't entirely dismissed him, however. This meeting would decide the future of any interaction. His features had softened, and this was noticeable to her heightened eyesight, but that did nothing to warm the cool aloofness in her gaze nor her demeanor. "Yes, I received it, Baron. I am not here for drinks, however, but for answers and the apology promised." She'd not ask herself *why* that apology mattered. Had she simply written him off, there would obviously be no desire for the answers or apology.


More than simply 'meetings', they had shared private conversation, and spend a rather wild evening drinking and in each other's company. It was almost as if they'd gone in reverse, back to a place But, what had been done and said, had been done, and said. No longer would the elf seek the past for answers, and he was certainly not going to repeat it. Her cool aloofness was to be expected - truthfully, a blow from her fist or a knife would not really be entirely surprising - but then she hadn't done that when he'd been the 'rake', had she? As cool as she was, her presence here was enough. Her tone was imperious indeed, and though he was able to keep a smile from his face, he was inwardly impressed by her poise. Further confirmation of what he suspected, that she was a true lady, and didn't simply use it as veneer. "Answers I shall give, as I am able. But you are quite right." Steeling himself, for even he had his pride, he knelt on one knee in a very
archaic fashion, as a liegeman might to a queen, and dipped his head. "For not treating you with the respect you deserve, as the lady you are, I humbly apologize, Lady Rayvinn. My honor is yours." He didn't care what passersby or entrants to the Inn might see him kneeling, for at that moment, naught else mattered to him.


He was fortunate indeed that she was on the sane side of crazy tonight and thus far there was no need for violence. A perfectly groomed dark brow arched high as lips, made more for whisperings and secretive smiles, formed into a tight line upon somber features. She studied the elf upon his knee offering his apology and honor for misdeeds and spent several very long moments in contemplation. Finally, she spoke, the chill in her voice warming only by mere degrees, "For not treating me with the respect any woman deserves regardless of her status is what I am certain you meant to say Baron, yes? Any woman, unless she truly is a whore whose time has been purchased, should never be subjected to such dishonorable treatment. However, mistakes in judgement can be made by elves as well as men, and none of us are entirely innocent from such transgressions. Please stand and do not cause a scene, your honor is your own. I would not take it from you." Her gaze remained aloof, for make no mistake that while she was forgiving the transgression, she would not simply forget and act as if he had not injured her pride.


He rose smoothly, one hand brushing street dust from his knee, after she had spoken. And, expressly given him leave to stand. Propriety, but it was clear on his face that he was ashamed. Still, he held his head high. She had not expressly forgiven him anything, but for now, it was enough. "Indeed, none of us are innocent..." he murmured, his eyes clouding for an instant, a private guilt which quickly passed. "As you say, Lady Rayvinn. Perhaps we could retire from the chilly evening and seek out a warmer place in which to converse?" Not that he minded the chill, but it would be good to sit. "If you prefer, I hear there are duels afoot in the Star's End Bar. An interesting place, I've rarely been to. The walk is not far. Granted, the Inn is a bit closer." The first real smile he'd allowed so far, though it barely curved his mouth.


She would be far happier with herself if she could state that she was entirely unaffected by his smiles, even the barely there ones, and not be telling an outrageous lie to herself. As it was, her head barely canted to the side as that familiar appearance occurred and one corner of her own mouth lifted in involuntary response. "Hm, I wouldn't think a ranger such as yourself would be so affected by the chill. Shall I be chivalrous and offer my coat, Baron?" Oh, what was this? Did she just make a joke? She paused for a long moment, contemplating his request, and then offered a half nod. "I suppose I could drink a cup of tea for the sake of not appearing unkind to an elf that would degrade himself in public at my expense. I have no preference for where I obtain this tea."

And that bare smile grew, as she replied. She was free with her jibes, but they had a way of breaking past his usual formality. Whether a true inner thaw was occurring for either of them remained to be seen. But outwardly, he relaxed. Jibes meant progress was being made, in so far as he could tell. "Chivalry is a term that refers to men, horses, and rules of war, in fact. As you are neither man nor horse, I'd say, keep the coat. It suits you far better." He was hoping an act of war had been averted, in any case. "And it is no degradation, to kneel before a lady. Pride is usually a sillier thing, than it is useful." Normally here's where a gent would offer an elbow; instead he merely turned, headed up the porch steps to open the door, and with a half-bow gestured her inside. "Ladies first."

[Rayvinn]

"I must say I am pleased that you have noticed I am not, in fact, a horse." She obviously would say nothing to draw attention to being female considering the situation they were in. "I am quite well versed in war, however." One of the few tidbits about herself she had ever offered. Now he was speaking as the Shadow that she had been getting to know, one with impeccable manners and common sense. Had she not been so on guard against allowing the elf to once again be in her good graces, she could have easily slipped back into comfortable familiarity with him. Being with him had always been so easy, maintaining this emotional distance was a chore. Rayvinn slipped past him, ever careful not to brush an arm or shoulder accidentally against him since she was entirely opposed to touching the elf for the next three hundred years at least, and moved on into the cheery warmth of the Inn.


He'd likely have been crushed if he had known he would have to wait three hundred years for even the barest touch. But he probably had a couple thousand left in him, unless he really pissed her off and she knifed him. That momentary image flitted through his mind, and passed out of him in a slight shudder, once she had passed the threshold. Don't get knifed, Shadow, he told himself, and with these words of wisdom in mind, he was through the door after her. "Care to sit at the hearth? I'll obtain the tea. Earl Grey, with cream and honey, if I haven't entirely lost my memory." He stood poised for her response, yet to scan the Inn itself to see who was about. He'd discarded the idea of a booth as not a propos given the state of things.


Good rule of thumb, Shadow...do not get knifed. Rayvinn was about to retort that she was quite capable of obtaining her own tea, feeling a bit snappish since she was having this internal struggle now in regards to how she should react to him, but she paused and merely nodded at him. For the first time in a week, she allowed her gaze to meet his for the barest hint of a moment before it moved to his forehead and that imaginary dot that she kept her focus on. "Your memory serves you well." So does mine, came the intrusive thought that made her shoulders immediately square once more as her spine became rigid. Without further ado, she turned from him and made her way among the patrons until she reached the couch.


What was the saying? 'Women forgive but never forget, men forget but never forgive.' A saying of humans, but in Rhy'din it might apply to anyone, elves both haughty and shady alike. A dip of his head, and he was off to the bar. Not wasting much time, he nodded to those he passed and went about obtaining the tea he sought. First things first, coins met the bar's till before he availed himself of two plain ceramic cups, hot water, and a tin of tea. Honey from a shelf, cream from the low fridge, and after a few minutes he'd readied all and was strolling toward hearth and couch. He set hers up at the low table near her hand, then took up his own spot at the couch, careful to keep his distance. Thoughts of knives and wounded pride had him extra cautious tonight. "As you said outside, I've more than just apologizing to do." He smiled even after the serious words he'd offered the elfess, and lifted his mug to blow on its steamy surface.


However cool an attitude she was attempting to maintain, Rayvinn did have courtly, diplomatic manners that dictated she offer polite thanks even to an enemy if they should offer her aid or sustenance. Whether Shadow was now her enemy wasn't clear, if so it was something she had to consciously work at maintaining as it seemed far more natural for her gaze to gravitate towards him and linger. She'd not allow that to happen, of course, but as the aforementioned manners dictated, she did offer the elf a sincere smile and softly spoken thanks. Obvously this was purely due to manners, she had no other reason to want to smile at him. Damnable elf that he is for causing such a predicament. And so the war within the chaotic elfess, in regards to maintaining a cold attitude, continued. She merely nodded at his words and waited.


She was playing the cool very well, well enough that he had no idea what was really going through her mind - had he ever? - but it was enough that she hadn't drawn a blade. Yet. His own guard was there, more a readiness to accept the worst, but he spoke in earnest tones, low under the general hubbub of the room. "What I wrote in the letter, about hastiness? Recklessness? These are not excuses for such behavior as I displayed, but are reasons nevertheless. But I will not blame life here for my behavioral transgressions. That path is..how do they call it? A cop-out. I think in part, my magic might explain some of my fey behavior. Water magic is heavy with emotions, and when tides are high, sometimes I feel them rising within me as well." Another sip of tea. "Which is altogether a poor explanation, of course. I was perhaps more overcome by your presence than I should admit." Like pulling teeth, getting those words out without falter, though the tips of his ears blushed.


That he had no idea what was really going through her mind was unsurprising, there is a reason Rayvinn excels as her chosen profession, though Shadow had no idea of this obviously. She remained stoic, elegantly long fingers curling around the teacup as she lifted it to rest upon a sword callused palm. Suddenly the color of her tea was a thing of absolute fascination as she couldn't pull her gaze from the taupe colored liquid, even counting the miniscule beads of fat from the cream upon the surface of the hot liquid. Though she seemed to pay little attention to his words, she had ingested them, digested them, touched upon every shift of his voice and stumble over thoughts, every nuance. Finally she looked up and turned to face him, either allowing him to see the hurt in her eyes or simply unable to hide it once it bubbled to the surface, it was there and laid bare before him. Forget the anger, forget the frigid rigidness of her body language. The vulnerability was within the depths of those jade eyes as her gaze not only met his but remained. "It isn't a poor explanation. I understand it...but it doesn't undo what has been done." Perhaps even an elf wouldn't be able to hear her next words, but perhaps he was listening closely enough. "You hurt me." And her gaze dropped to her tea once more, sooty lashes effectively shielding her soul from being mirrored further to this elf.


He kept his eyes up, finding it difficult to look elsewhere than her face when she spoke. Ice within had melted, and he was allowing the nefarious creep of empathy back inside. It was so much easier to be detached from transgression when alone; faced with its effects, he could not but feel some of that pain she exuded. He blew out a breath, and set down his tea, without blinking away from her intent stare. "I know it. And you'd not be the first I ever had, though always before there was some greater reason. The cleansing of an evil, the fight for some justice. But, I know it. I cannot undo anything I've done - I am no master of the Nexus to step through time, to go back, no matter my wish - but I believe I can make amends, if you can grant me the chance." At wit's end, though not frantic; he was beyond the frenzy of these last few days, calming into acceptance.


"If I was not giving you a chance, Shadow, would I be sitting here mentally reliving such a shameful moment? Would I be speaking to you at all after having walked away a week ago?" Honestly, if Rayvinn had felt she had an actual choice in the matter, she would have likely run away and not spoken to him again. However, there was something deeper at work within her that wouldn't permit her to run this time. Something was drawing her to this elf and she was finding it next to impossible to walk away and not look back. "I don't know how to forget what has happened. I don't know how to return to the way things were and allow things to happen as they were. Neither do I think I should forget just yet. I do not feel that you are the type to go about behaving so atrociously normally but the fact is that you did. I don't trust easily and once lost it is difficult to regain. I am not certain that you will find it to be worth such a struggle." And by it, she meant...whatever had been occurring between them prior to this upset.

[Rayvinn]

It. Such a small word, to have so many layers, and meanings. Just as easy for him to walk away, really, walk away from shame, just stand up and walk right out of here. But while he had little facility in matters of love, he did know something of fighting for a cause, and this cause he believed in, to his very marrow. "Yet, just as you are here giving me a chance, so am I here willing to struggle. Life is always a struggle; it's a matter of how we respond to it. You'll have to forgive something else, I fear. My stubborn streak." His hand was unconscious in his grasp for his tea, for if he did not take up the mug, it was her hand he might go for. Too soon for that. And there were still hidden knives to consider, should he put a foot too far wrong this time. "I'm not precisely the most trusting person either, after the labors of these last years." And last days - again that shade of guilt shuddering through him at direr recent events. Something else was there, beneath the surface of his gaze, though quickly veiled. "But I've not gone anywhere yet."


Like a butterfly's flutter of wings as it emerged from the chrysalis, almost timid but sensing the freedom so close, that thick veil of dark lashes lifted, and once more her gaze was resting upon him. Less turbulent, more intent but calm, she continued to watch him with a stoicness only an elf could produce in such circumstances. Finally, she nodded. "If your stubborn streak can sustain you through this struggle then, if earned once more, my trust will be placed in one worthy of it." Doing her best to ignore the little flutter of her heart, Rayvinn pulled her gaze from his proud features, and once more began to study her tea. "I...am not sure what happens now, what to do..." Spoken by a woman capable of making decisions, without pause, that affected the lives of thousands. He flustered her into the inability to problem solve, though this was certainly not a problem she was accustomed to. Matters of the heart took a definite backseat to matters of war and thusly her skill was as lacking as his. However, she too knew a cause worth fighting for and she knew what evil truly looked like. This elf, while having hurt her, was not evil.


Flustered her, did he? If he knew that for sure, he'd have been shocked, and certainly amused. she was probably the most flustering lady he'd ever met, in centuries of life. Their shared elven nature had certainly given them no roadmap, and the emotional undercurrents may very well have been a factor in the rushing tides of conflict between them. But neither were strangers to battle, and both were adaptable, that much was clear. "We could start by having some of this tea before it grows too cold, yes?" His smile flickered before he took a sip of his own. Beyond that, he was as tentative as she to ruffle the barely gained truce between them. "Have you other plans, this evening? You've already given me much of your time.." Time that he savored, greedily somehow, but would seek not to abuse.


From the bowed position of her head, while being unable to see her eyes for the guard of lashes, he would be able to see the corners of her lips lift just enough to produce a solitary dimple, its twin not quite ready to make an appearance. "Wiser words have never been spoken, I am certain." Spoken just as the teacup was lifted for a sip of the still warm brew. He offered her the escape she craved as she lowered the cup and turned to meet his gaze. Something happened however, as she opened her mouth to speak. The excuse she had been ready to offer in order to leave without fracturing the facade of content, slipped from her mind and she spoke someone else's words. "No, my evening is free. I was unsure how long to devote to this meeting and cleared my schedule."


Hearing that was strangely touching. That such a woman of means (and ends, whatever those were) would clear her schedule just to hear an apology. In his mind's eye he saw visions of economies, kingdoms collapsing for want of her attention, and it made him smile. A secret sort of smile, there and gone again. It might serve to display his obvious pleasure at the notion that she was not in fact about to depart. "Very kind of you. You must have expected me to be exceptionally long-winded." Which, he essentially was when he didn't watch himself. "We can share more tea, or perhaps...you might walk with me awhile? There are still places in the city adorned with Yule decorations. And I can assure you I do not require your coat." Mirth in his eyes, in the half-curve of his lips.


"You are an elf, are you not?" In regards to being long winded. That smile grew hesitantly and then just as quickly disappeared as if remembering that it had made a premature appearance. The flutter within her chest was quite distracting for a moment, even causing her to look down momentarily. "I suppose if you promise not to abscond with my coat, I could take my exercise with you." Accustomed to more movement than sitting around, Rayvinn's leg muscles were beginning to feel twitchy with the need to be stretched.


While he might have been accustomed to sitting at a desk for hours at a time, the demands of modern Rhy'din much different than a former life roaming the wilds, he found himself ready to move, as well. The room was quieting - the 'long-winded' conversation had seen a small rush come and go - but he paid it all little mind. He'd seen the smile, too early, but comforting. "I am an elf, at that," he grinned, taking the tease in her tone as she'd meant it. "But we can talk as we walk. And is not wind your purview, Rayvinn of the Winds?" One of the first names, titles, she'd ever revealed to him, and it would always stick. He set down his mug, and rose. "We need not tarry far, Dragon's Gate is quite the spectacle this time of year." A straightening of his evening coat's long collar, a glance sidelong at her, a peek sneaked.


Her teacup was placed upon the low table and she stood as well. Another light smile played upon her lips at the memory of that naming as she smoothed her hands over imaginary wrinkles in the skirt of her dress. She was fidgeting, he would see that nervousness in the way her fingers twisted along the hem of her coat and then moved back to smooth along her dress once more. "Wind and mystery, yes..." she replied during all of this fidgeting.


Ah, the fidgeting. Was it too soon to take a risk here? He gave her hands a quick but thorough scan. Still no knives; he'd probably not take one in the ribs for doing this. Then he stepped close enough to offer her his elbow. Just the elbow, not his hands, his gesture was smooth despite the nerves forming up in a fresh bundle in his stomach. "If you would permit me to escort you properly, my Lady." The worst she could do was refuse the gesture, during which his eyes stayed on her face, barely blinking. His head was dipped at a slight angle, another sign of respect, perhaps.


Honestly, that wasn't the worst she could do but it was the worst she *would* do at this point. Her gaze ticked down to that offered arm and held for a moment before lifting back to meet his for a long moment. Without speaking, her hand lifted from the hem of her coat to wrap long, delicate boned fingers loosely around his bicep. Her gaze lowered to her hand upon his arm, then lifted to meet his own once more. Whatever was going through her mind, she wasn't giving life to it.


Which was a good sign to draw his eyes away, and pass them around the room. The touch of her hand on his arm had come much sooner than three hundred years, had it not? Though hours seemed to have slipped by without his awareness. To the other two in the Inn, he offered a polite nod of farewell - one had the look of a promising new Iron Fists fighter, if memory served - and slow steps drew him and the lady elf toward the door. With those heels of hers she could easily match his stride, but he was in no real hurry, now.


Avoiding his gaze, she looked around the room as well. It was just easier than trying to explain to herself how and why this had happened because she certainly had no intention of touching him for at least five hundred years if she remembered her oath correctly. A polite nod and smile was given to the other patrons and Rayvinn allowed her steps to match Shadow's. With her heels she was taller than he so it was with ease that she matched that stride.