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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | Avrenne pays a visit to Lena's suite within House Fallon, and discovers that there is a whole new opportunity to play matchmaker with the young woman whose list of desirable partner traits is all too familiar to the duchess. 7k~ Personal Plot RP |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
It's the quieter evening hours of the house, after the inevitable invigorating family dinner when a table mixes the personalities of those residing in Fallon House, when all have withdrawn to their own spaces, and the sun has set firmly at the horizon enough to truly feel like an evening with summer's approach.
This is when the Lady of the House chooses her moment to knock on Lena's suite door. She's still in the same dress she was at dinner, a frothing of dark pink and iridescent blue, long sleeved as always (the reason for them likely better understood now), but still in that lower neckline she has been wearing recently — likely due to the necessities of nursing an infant — and her hair swept up into the chignon she favors. She is not wearing her wedding ring, a small detail that has been more and more frequently noticeable ever since the first news of the loss of Hillsbrad to the Horde arrived.
"Hello?" Lena's voice floats through the door, the faint uncertainty on the rising inflection making it clear she had not expected a visitor this evening. Then, manners take over, and there are light footsteps as she crosses over to the door and pulls it open. Lena's blond hair is down and loose, and she's wearing a casual loose dress of light blue, with sandals on her feet. Her eyes widen slightly when she realizes the identity of her visitor.
"Lady Fallon, has something happened?" Lena hastily steps back, making room for her. "I mean, come in, of course."
There's a softening around Avrenne's eyes, some fellow sense of sympathy perhaps, before it's tucked back away like a stray hair.
"No, nothing has happened of note. I simply thought to pay a call, if I might take up some of your evening," Avrenne says, sweeping into the room with the permission granted. Her hands are clasped in front of her, right over left. She takes note of the room with swift flicks of her eyes, and there is an inevitable sense of observation in it, before she continues to the chair of the sitting room, arranging herself in the seat facing the sofa. "I do hope the accommodations have continued to serve you adequately."
"Oh, yes," Lena says, settling herself on the sofa. Her eyes flick to the few books stacked haphazardly on the table between them, but it is far too late to hide her reading habits. They aren't books on the fel or the arcane today, but on romantic adventures. Likely nautical-themed, to judge by the ships on the covers. Whether this subgenre was specifically chosen by Lena or simply the only kind of romance she had on hand is not clear. "It's very comfortable. Likely the most comfortable place I've ever lived, to be honest."
Avrenne's attention goes to the books as Lena's does, perhaps now taking more notice of them than the duchess might have otherwise. She is not much of a reader herself. She smiles slightly at Lena's words.
"We have that in common. I could say many things about my homes, but if I had to categorize it by comfort, of ease within it, here would be the top of such a list. I adored my home of my childhood, but it was an architectural nightmare, stony and full of drafts, difficult windows, old furniture with centuries of use, and doors not updated for decades at a time." Despite the lackluster account, Avrenne's voice has gone softer in a nostalgic tone, flickers of old grief in the words.
"The house I lived in Stormwind — " There's an odd pause, and Avrenne refolds her hands together in a settling motion. "It was in the Park District. It was a necessary reduction of circumstances, and it was suitable. But there was always something, a cost, a concern, a place to bleed money slowly. I would dread the start of autumn and the rain, wondering what it would mean for the roof that year." She makes a flick of her fingers, a dismissal of the past. "It's always the addition of it all, not any one part, but the whole of it, that can weigh on a person, especially when she has so many other worries already."
"I grew up in a farmhouse," Lena says, with a faintly nostalgic smile of her own. "A lot to recommend it to a child, but likely not the fanciest of establishments. And then there were… a lot of different places." The fond nostalgia fades, though the smile remains fixed, as she continues, "I stayed in Cobalt Company Headquarters for a little while, there when I first joined up." Was there a sudden large gap in history there, from farmhouse to Cobalt Company? Surely not. "Then I had a room down the street from the Pig and Whistle. I let that go when the Northrend Campaign happened, and since then it's been mostly tents and shipboard. There's really no comparison."
"No, there really is not," Avrenne agrees. "When we first arrived in Stormwind, we were refugees, as anyone else was. A title did not alter that fact. I had Priscilla here, a long friendship of our families, but I had never been in Stormwind City. Obtaining a method to communicate with her took days, and I was…" She glances away, a slight movement of her arms, as if she's halted a touch to them. "Injured, and had those with more injuries with me. We spent the first nights on the street, with the rest. In tents, of course, but it was a memorable experience, that I would not care to ever repeat.
"You were not in Stormwind after the Fall, I take it? Silverpine would have given you better access to Southshore, and ports of harbor from there," Avrenne prompts. Does she already know? Or is she just making an educated guess.
Lena glances at Avrenne's arms, covered now, and there's a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes. She does not press about them, though, at least not now. There's a reserve in Lena's manner that makes it clear that she understands those scars were not intended to be shared. Instead, she returns her gaze to Avrenne's, and attends to the question at hand.
"No, I didn't make it that far," Lena nods, confirming the guess. "I was on foot, and conditions were not ideal. I made to to… where the military was, around Dalaran. And then from there to Kalimdor. My first time seeing Stormwind was just a few years ago, well after the Fall, and entirely different circumstances. I… " Lena hesitates, and then settles on,"I was in an unfortunate relationship at the time. One long past, thank goodness."
"The partner you mentioned, the one who did not keep promises of an arrangement meant for security and benefit, if I recall correctly?" The phrase is that habitual softening, an attempt at modest implication that Avrenne could be wrong, could be corrected.
"Yes, that'd be the one," Lena sighs. "I'd imagined this whole future, but… when dreams meet reality, reality wins every time. He wasn't the sort of person I'd thought he was, in the end."
"It is terrible to have such a painful reminder of one's own fallibility," Avrenne says, her tone dry with self-awareness. "I did not particularly enjoy my own reminder. I consider myself a woman of good judgment, and sound reasoning, and I believe you to be the same, Miss Coit. Such qualities are not, however, perfection, and we must take such things as lessons to be learned and not a reflection of ourselves as a whole. We might lose a battle, but we can still win the war, so to speak." Avrenne flexes her left hand, a movement of her thumb inwards, perhaps touching her ring-finger, even bare of the ring. "You had the right of it, though. There is potential for great security in such a partnership, and the more practical minded you are, the more likely it is to be a successful one in the long run."
"I suppose so," Lena says, her brow furrowing, as she glances at the bare ring finger, then again at her arms. There's a calculation in her eyes, a balancing of scales, a decision made.
"I've an injury to remind me, of a sort," Lena says, touching one hand to her forearm. "From the moment I realized I needed to leave. We'd… argued, and I told him I needed to see a healer, that I thought my arm was broken. And he said I was overreacting. I did see a healer for it eventually, but it was long too late. Still twinges sometimes."
There's something dangerous and cold in Avrenne's eyes at the description of Lena's arm injury, a growing sense of the arcane that is pushed back.
Lena draws a breath. "But anyway, I reckon that's the only sort of person not likely to care about…" she pauses again. "Lord Fallon has told you something of my professional history, I would venture? As a background of people in the Fleet is of, um, professional interest. I try to be practical-minded, but also realistic."
"No," Avrenne answers. "Siamus is a gentleman, and while he would not lie to his wife, he would not reveal a woman's history without exceptional reason to do so, professional interest notwithstanding." She pauses. "I have learned enough, however, to make an educated guess."
She holds a hand up in some halting motion. "You must know Miss Coit that I would never judge you for such history. I would never judge any woman for it. When one has limited options, one sells what one must to survive. I made much the same choice myself, albeit at the stakes of the nobility, after my former-fiance left me with few options and most significantly, a debt. I had taken out substantial loans to pay for the Northrend war contracts I sold to the crown, intended to be paid back after a period of several months to allow reasonable collection of taxes.
"My former-fiance's fortune was meant to hold the place, and without him, I had nothing, and the payments would have ruined me. I would never have managed to pay them before I lost everything, failed my wards, failed the Alliance. All I had to sell was myself, and I knew it. Any match I would make would need to shoulder the cost I came with, and for such a fortune, they would acquire me as a wife. I simply…" A flicker of something, around her eyes, a tightening of her hands as she holds onto her composure. "Valued myself at worth the cost."
Is the past tense because she's talking about a past event, or that she used to value herself, and now doesn't? Unclear.
"It's good that you found somebody who sees that value, and who appreciates it," Lena says. "And someone worthy of it. And the place you've built here, for the wards and the others… it's impressive. As for me, I think what I was getting at was exactly that. Value and cost. As a practical and realistic woman, I very much appreciate your regard and your reservation of judgment. I do not expect such fair-mindedness of everyone, especially not in high society. Which is why, while I've not made a secret of such things, I don't exactly talk about them. And which makes it a little more challenging to find the sort of partner you mention."
"I did not build what I have alone. I was very fortunate in my connections, most notably in the Duchess Aspenwood. Without her assistance, I would never risen so far, never had the opportunities I was afforded even with my rank and education." Avrenne raises her brows at Lena, a flick of her eyes to the books on the table before they set back to meet Lena's gaze. "Do you still seek it for yourself, a partner? Obviously you have much improved your situation, gathered an impressive independence, but that does not preclude oneself for considering the benefit of a partner for support."
"Well, yes, I… I mean, I do still date," Lena says, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. She seems otherwise entirely composed. "It's only natural, I suppose? Even if I know the whole traditional thing is probably not in the cards for me anymore. But of course I do value all the connections I have made."
"Well yes, there is dating, there is…a temporary partnership. Lovers can be comforting, but there is a difference between the relationship and one of marriage, particularly with the benefit of a contract stipulating the conditions of said marriage." Avrenne makes a gesture with her right hand, a movement of her fingers. "I see no reason whatsoever why the traditional path would not be in the cards. All marriages are the same in an important regard: they are an agreement between two people. All of us come with our pasts, Miss Coit. What is acceptable to one will not be to another, and that is the way of it. We know what any prospective partner would need to accept, your past, the fel. So there is that.
"What is it that you want? What are you looking for, truly. And yes, of course, practicality will have its way, but it is best to start with the highest ask." Avrenne smiles slightly. "Something I expect I do not need to explain to another business woman."
"In… in a partner? A spouse?" Lena looks a little startled. "I suppose it's not something I've spent a lot of time thinking about. I don't want to be dependent on another person, so that's definitely not what I'd be looking for. Most of the things I look for in a romance are maybe less practical things. Somebody who actually listens to me, and not only when I say stuff they want to hear. Someone who see me for who I am, and not who they imagine I ought to be."
Lena smiles, a little ruefully. "There's less to consider for me, maybe, in the larger things. I've no wards. No children. No house. There's nothing I need to arrange in a particular way."
"Not presently, but what of the future? I realize some things may be more negotiable than others, but what do you want? A house, children, a position in society? What are deal breakers? I came with wards, and I knew it would limit my options. Some men would not have taken a bride who came with such a household. For my part, I would not have accepted a proposal from a man who would not be interested in children for the House, whether by issue or adoption. Both the Vice Admiral and I had that as non-negotiable, in fact, that there would be children. Three at minimum, the same number for both of us," Avrenne relates, and it's possibly revealing how warm her tone goes, a fondness that is perhaps a little peculiar given the subject matter. "I think what traits you are looking for are particularly well thought of, even if they have come to you by…experiencing otherwise, you have learned better what you want, and what you deserve. One's partner should respect one; that should never be something we compromise on."
"I'm not sure about… children, with the fel," Lena clasps her hands together in her lap, as she glances over at the window for a moment. Then she turns back to Avrenne with an apologetic smile. "I would like a position in society where I'm not required to justify my presence at every moment. I know there's good reason for the wariness, for warlocks, and I try not to grudge it, but… sometimes I just wish people would think well of me. And I hope that's not a thought that leads down a dark path."
There's a strange ripple of an expression only mostly concealed beneath Avrenne's social mask, her eyes showing a soft warmth before she flicks them to the side, and then back to Lena.
"I regret to say that there is no simple solution for such wariness. Not even a title, not an illustrious rank among the most valiant of Alliance forces, not even well formed connections among the best of Society will spare you from it." Not that she's naming names or anything, but a certain count and captain's presence lingers in the blank. "However, one can affect change, over time, and it is unworthy of others to judge a warlock entirely by that merit, and not consider other equally significant descriptions, particularly those that relate to their choices of service.
"We should, after all, not hear only that one individual is a priest or a mage even and consider that the whole of the story. A priest of the Scarlet Onslaught is not to be respected or trusted, nor should we do so for a mage of one of those horrible cults, the Cult of the Damned and such." Avrenne leans forward. "That is my hope for what the W.E.B. will someday serve to accomplish, that one will hear warlock and perhaps have such wariness, but with the designation W.E.B. warlock, it will garner the respect that it should. The fel is a dangerous tool, but what one does with one's choices matters most, whether that is using a sword or the arcane or the fel.
"And," Avrenne continues. "There is one advantage to our current social sluggishness in moving in such a direction, though I realize it is tiring to experience. Those that would judge you for the warlock, without even a modicum of individuality, are those who are most likely to judge other things in a similar, over-broad light. If someone you meet holds their judgement of the warlock, until they know your specifics, to have that respect, then surely they might be depended upon to have similar reactions as they better know you."
Lena listens carefully to Avrenne's words, as well as her implications, relaxing slightly back into the couch. "I suppose it does work well, as a kind of way to get a read on someone. But I've come to realize, lately, that sometimes people aren't terribly forthcoming about their wariness. I know it should not come as a surprise, to people like you and I who are careful about the way we treat people. But still, sometimes it does."
"I suppose there are something of two judgmental types that I've encountered. The sort that tells you right out, and it doesn't matter what you say to try to allay anything because they don't give a… they don't care about who you are and they never will. Then there's the others, the ones who do get to know you, and seem to be willing to hold judgment, but… then maybe all it takes is a little bit of stress for the true feelings to come out." Lena shakes her head. "It's hard to tell, sometimes, who the latter sort are. But I do hope that W.E.B. will change things, over time. Maybe not for me, but for my… for the next generation."
"Goodness. I have been known to be a patient woman while the stones of Society shift, but let us hope that we can at least depend upon a larger sensible population to adjust their perspective slightly faster than the speed of growing a teak tree to maturity." Yes, a number of years most people know. (It's 25.)
"To speak so of that next generation, that of our children's, you spoke that it might not be of…certainty for you with the fel?" Avrenne prompts. "I assume you mean of your own progeny, not of your capability to parent a child, for that I see no impediment of either temperament or adaptability."
There's a faint flicker of something like alarm in Lena's eyes for a moment, but she doesn't move from her position on the sofa and her hands remain gently clasped. "I don't know what the fel does for that sort of thing, but I am not sure it would be wise, for me. I try not to grudge people's wariness, because it is not baseless. There are any number of examples of warlocks who've gone down a dark path, and if there were a child…" Lena cuts herself off, and then the flash of pain in her expression is considerably more obvious, as she glances over towards the window in an attempt to hide it.
Avrenne hesitates a moment, a brief moment, before she rises to a stand, and in decisive two step moves to the couch, sitting next to Lena, not blocking her view of the window. She doesn't reach for Lena, but the nearness seems significant all the same.
"I understand your concern, and I hear you when you speak of the unknown of a future, but what I do not hear you say is that you do not want children," Avrenne says, not unkindly. If there is not warmth in her voice or expression, neither is there coldness. "Do you not think though that of all things that might keep one on a path of restraint, the love for one's children and a future with them would be most influential? I don't think you are one for a dark path, Miss Coit, for it is clear that you have such depth of care for even a hypothetical child. Captain Tyrrell and his wife have taken up the management of an orphanage in Redridge. Being a warlock and the care of children are not incompatible, and it is not an impossible future."
"His wife?" Lena says, looking sharply back at Avrenne, distracted from the subject at hand by this new surprise. "I had heard about the orphanage thing, but I hadn't heard he'd married. Who did he… if it isn't impolite to ask."
Is that a controlled roll of Avrenne's eyes in exasperation? Surely not. She just maybe started to glance somewhere.
"I would say 'he did not speak of it to you?' but that would imply I am surprised, and at this point I am more surprised when he reveals anything at all of his own personal life, even when it is of significance that his friends and colleagues might wish to be apprised of." There's a thread of fondness not entirely concealed in the scolding tone.
"She was Miss Halliday Bristow, of the Bristow Greenlea Shipping Company of Southshore, employed for a time with Cobalt Company as I understand it, and now Lady Halliday Tyrrell, matron of the Drakewatch Orphanage."
Lena does not even try to hide her surprise. "Halliday? I wouldn't have thought… I knew she'd been his student. Before, obviously, she's a mage, not a warlock. I wonder if…" Lena frowns, "she quit the Kirin Tor oddly some months back, and I'd mentioned it to him. Probably just a coincidence."
There's an odd expression on Avrenne's face, a freezing in place, before she lifts her brows. "She is a friend of yours, then?"
"Not terribly close friends," Lena admits, with just the slightest shrug of her shoulders. "But yes, we met over in Kalimdor. She never seemed particularly concerned with class or station. And now she's a countess. But I apologize, I distracted from the subject at hand. Which is, yes, I imagine the Count and Countess Tyrrell will care very dutifully for any children in their estate."
"I suggest perhaps speaking to the countess yourself on the matter of her reasons for an abrupt ending of her occupations." Avrenne nods. "But yes, you are correct in your assessment; they will. It was Captain Tyrrell who embraced the initiative, in the wake of the Wrathgate. There were many who lost a guardian in that operation, and more after with the direction of the losses of the war in Northrend. Children need most those who will care for them, care about their well being, more than anything else. It is not enough to only see to their physical needs of a roof or food, though those are crucial. Those who value children, who want them, are always better guardians."
"Just so," Lena says with a faint smile. "If I were ever to bring a child into this world, it would be because I thought I could give him or her all of those things. But I confess I am a little curious why you're interested to speak on the subject of marriages and children and so forth. I know I've been here over a month now, and I really never meant to impose… is there a concern that my presence here as a single woman might impact the reputation of the house?" Lena bites the inside of her lower lip, and then adds, "Or is there concern with my judgment in matters of the heart?"
Avrenne's brows raise. "Not at all. I admit that is something of an interest of mine. I have been known to, at times, play my hand a little at matchmaking." There's something about the modest phrasing that doesn't quite land. She might not have only played a little at it. "There's something particularly satisfying about the math of it, to solve an equation of suitable parties, a missing x to someone's y, as it can be.
"As for children, that has always been a matter of importance to me, whether that is by what someone needs for support, or if they might consider guardianship." Ask her why and how Captain Tyrrell ended up with an orphanage, maybe. "Particularly those who want both, marriage and children.
"As for your status here, you are a single woman of employment in the House." Avrenne makes a gesture out into the general direction of the house. "Surely you do realize that if such were a problem, it would be a concern for Priscilla, Emelia, Lyra, Moirin, Catrin, and Cook. Those under the protection of the House like Ralaea and Isla might be unmarried, but that does not signify. I am more than sufficient chaperone and approval as the Lady of the House. Your history makes no difference, and those who would challenge such are welcome to test their mettle against House Fallon." Avrenne settles her hands back together. "I would not recommend it, however."
Lena almost laughs at that, but she does not. She simply nods, the amusement evident in the lift of the edges of her lips. "I know, of course, that there is no impropriety, but I would only speak of possible appearances. But when you talk about matchmaking, I imagine you mean primarily for nobility? Finding the correct balances of need and benefit between houses? I gather that would be considerably more complicated than the usual thing, and a more satisfying puzzle to solve."
Avrenne allows a small smile in return, and gives a controlled shrug. "It can be. There are often specifics that a member of a noble house needs, requirements of rank or suitability to a position. What becomes difficult are those that insist on a love match on top of it, where they must have all the necessary components for the House and a sentimental attachment." Avrenne purses her lips together. "It creates unnecessary limitations.
"As for those not of the nobility, I find that the greatest impediment to a decent match is often of proximity and opportunity to meet. A rather large number of well suited individuals simply never have a reason to be in the other's company, and therefore go on believing that their match is impossible. When one of my banker's daughters was introduced to her husband by me, it was only coincidence that I knew both; he was a clerk in Theramore, and she was a banker's daughter living in Elwynn who did not travel. That is sometimes all it takes: opportunity." She makes a mm sound. "Well, opportunity and on occasion a duchess with an interest in both marital and martial math."
"But I would think that the banker and the clerk would be primarily for sentimental attachment, as you put it," Lena says, curious. "And that seems to not be your preferred focus. I would imagine in that case it's more of a matching of personalities than anything else, isn't it?"
Avrenne frowns slightly. "While it is not my preference, while I would not recommend it as a basis for marriage, that is not what matters when it comes to another's own preferences; I would not impose my own values on another so. If what one wants is a love match, well, then that is what it must be. And even a banker's daughter and a clerk might have many reasons for their marriage, beyond sentiment, and that is a matter to consider, of placement in the world, of children and necessities of comfort. What matters is knowing what those reasons are, and what is negotiable, and what is not.
"I know those who would negotiate on love or sentiment, but not certain requirements of status. And I know others who could be rather flexible on status or circumstances of birth, if there was love in the matter. I am not here to fix the world to my own equation, merely solve the ones that present themselves, a neutral third party*," Avrenne says.
"I would say it's not only love, for me, if that's what you've been asking," Lena says, a crease in her brow as she seems to consider how best to explain. "It isn't enough, alone. Love can be destructive, or cruel, or unpredictable. And even if it isn't, it cannot make up for other things, like lack of a shared vision for the future. But still, I do require it. Especially, if… as you suggest, if there might one day be children."
"And there are those whose vision will not include children, which is an important note. If I might ask, what is your vision of the future that a partner features in, ideally? If you had to put it in words, had control over the future," Avrenne says, and makes a bit of an expression. "Although I do realize how recent events have made us all recall that we are oft but leaves tossed in the winds of circumstances, one must not be timid when it comes to claiming what it is one wants.
"I do realize I speak so from a place of great privilege as one who was, " Avrenne's voice grows a little thicker, twitches of her brows as she fights back an expression, "fortunate beyond measure to marry a man who could not be more ideal or well suited to her most exacting of standards. A fairy tale match, if one was prone to the dramatic." Which obviously the duchess is not. Ahem. "Another might say it was simply very good math."
"That was very fortunate," Lena says, with a smile of her own, as she watches Avrenne's lack of expression. "I think, for myself, if a match were not ideal, I would likely rather remain alone. At this point, I would not seek romance simply for the sake of it. In an ideal world, I would be with someone who doesn't mind long absences, or that my work is dangerous. We would be… equal partners, supporting each other's goals. I would be respected, rather than protected, and he or she would accept that I know how to look out for myself."
Avrenne touches her cheek in that self-conscious way, as if to check she isn't blushing (she is, slightly), and then puts her hands back together. But she meets Lena's smile with a small one of her own. Yes, yes, she likes her husband.
"And what of this person's work? Do you want someone who will stay at home, mind a place for you both, be someone to come home to, who oversees any children, or would enjoy a partner who follows where you go? Is their temperament one more like your own, or different? And do you have a particular…sense of how capable of protection they are?"
"I don't… know," Lena frowns. "I suppose I don't have clear rules on any of that in my mind, even for an ideal future. Working directly with someone I'm in a relationship with seems risky, but then I've got no real experience with that sort of thing. It's hard to imagine someone traveling or staying home, when there isn't really a home in question to see to. I suppose temperament more like me. I've never dated anybody really like me, and well… obviously that hasn't worked out. And I have tended to prefer people protective, but that also hasn't really worked out for me."
Lena spreads her hands apologetically. "I'm sorry, I've mostly got the negatives. What I have gone for that doesn't work."
"That is sometimes the way of it, is it not? Sometimes one has a proof made more of not statements. After all, if one knew precisely what worked for certain, one would have it, presumably. Or…did have it, at some point, and lost," Avrenne amends.
"I suppose you might consider if you have a preference in a specific vision of a future, or a specific type of person that fits you. Sometimes they are one and the same, but other times, they might not be. If one's future is open ended, but one has the thought of the benefit of a surety in a person throughout it, no matter what comes, that is something to prioritize. On the other hand, if there is a vision of an ideal life, that is a goal to work towards in which a partner may be only one factor, and…it might not be of only one, or only one for all of one's life. Permanence is not the only form of success of partnership for all."
"I have always tried to be… adaptable," Lena says, shifting back against the couch. "If you want a particular thing too much, it hurts when you find out that you can't have it. I've been trying to.. to serve the Alliance well, to be known for that. I don't have a set dream of, like, a house with a garden or anything. So maybe for me it'd be more the person. I suppose I would like to have a partner I know I could trust, someone who would always be on my side, even if we argued sometimes. Someone tough enough to make hard decisions, when they've got to be made. I suppose… it might be nice to not face things alone, to not always have to be the strong one. Not that I'm all alone - I have friends, of course, and will have, partner or no partner."
Avrenne's expression grows soft and warm enough to see at least a sense of what Sintha spoke of, a woman under a cold unapproachable mask. There's a look in her eyes, like she's seeing a reflection of herself, perhaps, something of empathy or understanding. It's enough of a feeling that, possibly without direct intention, she reaches up her hand between them to lightly touch Lena's hair at the crown of her head, a motherly sort of touch.
"I understand. I think you and I are not so very different in some ways," Avrenne says. There's a hesitation of her hand, as if she's realized what she's done, but she smooths it over by moving her hand lightly along Lena's hair, as if it had been her intention all along. It's fine. Very normal. "I know what it is like to run so long in a close-held budget that to ask for more seems wrong, greedy. But you do deserve to ask for it, and you do deserve to have it. Claim what you want, what you really want, and do not settle for less because you think you cannot afford that want. Be greedier, Miss Coit."
Lena turns to her slightly, a moment of surprise in her eyes, but it fades quickly and she simply smiles at Avrenne. This is normal, yes. Normal head-patting. Their relationship has always been like this, hasn't it? "I will try to remember that. At least, when I am with someone with whom there is no harm in the asking." As she is now.
That's right, Lena.
As if there has been some sort of small joke, an awareness perhaps of the adaptability on display, Avrenne smiles, a much brighter, warmer expression. It reveals a little bit more of the lines around her eyes.
Ahem. Serious Duchess. She dampens it back down, consciously. She lowers her hand slowly, that deliberate way that conceals the unintended reach. "So then. Strong, but not overbearing. Capable, and independent, but not so much that they are not a steady certainty. Your equal, in all ways, and of sufficient temperament to be ready to face what may come. Perhaps someone of already established house and children, or at least open to the possibility of both?"
"When you say it like that, it sounds like a lot," Lena says, and then draws in a breath. "But yes, it also sounds like what I would want, if I am to be greedy."
She turns more fully to face Avrenne, her smile deepening with a touch of amusement. "It sounds as though I have set a very challenging puzzle, and it would be presumptuous of me to ask you to solve it. But, if you want to, then I certainly would not complain. Only, if it proves to have no solution, I hope you would not hold the posing of it against me."
"Well, is there a time limit?" Avrenne's brows raise with the question. "I have to say as someone who had such, with an alarming amount of specificity, that it can make for a rather…challenging prospect, but if there is no immediacy, no concern for a date that would alter things significantly should it come to pass with no solution, then it is only an equation like any other, and so bound by opportunity and chance."
"I can't think of any reason there should be," Lena says, tilting her head with another slight shrug. "I'd expect my life to go on much as it has, though one can never fully account for… well, Deathwing, for instance."
"We cannot even possibly factor for such. We would drive ourselves mad attempting to predict every possible apocalypse, and end up with some paranoia of what each new week will bring," Avrenne says. "Are there any other things that you are certain about, in either the negative or the preferred?" She pauses a moment, a thought perhaps. "Would you consider a partnership with another warlock?"
"I… would," Lena says, something darkening a little in her expression. "I have. I'm not certain it's wise, in that it might be best any partner of mine not be potentially corrupted by the fel. One of us will need to ensure things don't go awry."
"That is of course the double edge of it. On the one hand, someone who would know precisely what you work with, but on the other hand, twice the corruption to monitor. I understand that is part of the W.E.B.'s premise in itself for such a wide array of influences, to prevent warlocks from isolation among themselves. But, it is also true that sometimes the best person for one is one who can match one in power and ability," Avrenne says, and there is an oddity in the way she squeezes her hands together in her lap, a harder swallow that pulls her neck muscles tighter for a moment. Then it's gone again, tucked back away.
"Human, I have assumed, but I do realize that some find interest in those of other races of the Alliance." If the duchess is judging it, it's either well hidden, or possibly there's no judgement at all.
"Oh, human, I should think," Lena nods. "The other races have lovely people, I'm certain, but there's a mismatch of… lifespan… that would be hard to get over. Even for the dwarves and gnomes. Not to mention I can't imagine a kaldorei or a draenei that would want to be in that kind of relationship with a warlock."
"One must never discount individuals of course, but I do understand. I should think it a little difficult to relate as well, the concept of being seen as perhaps moving far more quickly than someone who thinks in decades rather than months," Avrenne says. "It is always a matter of perspective, naturally, but I think that for a partner that feels of equal measure, a shared perspective is the best course." She nods again, yes, good, everyone agrees.
Avrenne reaches out a hand — deliberately it would seem this time — to pat Lena's own hand. "Well, if you should allow me the indulgence of playing a bit of the marital mathematician, then I shall be glad to be of service. I will think on the matter, and perhaps we might see you out a little more in society with it, to find, as I say, opportunities where you might have not had before. If you do find yourself thinking that someone seems of interest, and you have a temptation to talk yourself out of pursuit, I do hope you will speak to me. We are not settling, Miss Coit," the duchess declares, raising her hand up to just under Lena's chin, a subtle suggestion to lift it.
"Well, I do appreciate your consideration." Lena doesn't seem surprised by the touch this time, instead slightly unclasping her hands as if she might rest one of hers on Avrenne's own. But the moment passes, and she does not, only the implication is there. Then, at the last, Lena raises her chin at the gesture, and meets Avrenne's gaze with her own. "Agreed, Lady Fallon. I do not intend to settle."
*Narrator: False.