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| Details |
| Author: | Athena |
| Summary: | On one of Avrenne and Shine's weekly billiards game nights, Avrenne gets a timely gift, and the two discuss his recent work efforts with Cobalt Company, and whether a certain romantic interest of Shine's should become a romantic intent. 4k~ words. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
It is a silent Thursday night in Fallon House; most of the household has retired. Lamps still burn in the game room, however, as has become customary. It is the Duchess and Mr. Shine's billiards night.
Shine is there early — earlier than the Duchess, a rare occurrence. Nor is he at the billiards table, where he would ordinarily be prowling restlessly, but seated instead on one of the couches before the hearth, his booted feet up on the coffee table — footman manners have left the building, these are long-neglected sailor manners — and a drink in hand. He is gazing blankly into the unlit fireplace.
The door opens wider, and Avrenne steps inside the room, setting the door to at nearly perfectly 25% still open behind her in anticipation of an arrival, her eyes flicking around the room in that customary way, the habit of an old game still being played, and there's a brief surprise at the What's Different being that Shine is already there. She seems even less like the Duchess than usual, her hair a long flow of gold down her back with the slightest hint still of a curl from its holding within a chignon through the day, her face bare of the cosmetics she has been wearing lately — and thus, the deeper signs of weariness more visible — and her nightgown meant to accommodate a much further along pregnancy now inadvertently hiding the current one at twenty weeks along, making her seem oddly smaller.
"Shine," she greets him warmly, as she makes her way towards the couch, striding with that practiced elegance that holds over her even in the most informal settings.
He drops his feet from the table to the floor and sits up at once. "Avrenne," he greets her. "Can I pour you a —" He catches himself. No, Shine, you probably should not pour the pregnant lady a drink. Even were she not pregnant, you should probably not pour Avrenne a drink.
He smiles a little wryly. "Beg pardon. Habit. How was the day?"
Avrenne takes the seat next to him, settling back into the couch with a sigh, some admittance of exhaustion ordinarily hidden. "Long, and unfortunately short at the same time. Ery is once more attempting to drop one of her naps, throwing the entire schedule off kilter, and leaving her in something of a mood through the afternoon, and Stormwind City's zoning ordinances are still causing delays with fitting sufficient residential areas within the proper walls," she says. Ah yes, the two colliding worlds of Avrenne's life. "Yours?"
Shine shrugs. "Quiet, today. No work for Cobalt since the Tuesday. Half the day training, half of it tinkering." He glances sidelong at Avrenne. "I have something for ye."
Avrenne's startelement is brief, but evident. "Oh. For me?" The way she settles her hands together in a slight flutter might make someone think she's not accustomed to receiving gifts, and isn't entirely sure of the process. "Thank you." Well, that's a good first step of social politeness at least. The flick of her eyes around Shine are a concession to curiosity of wondering what or where the something might be.
He smiles, leans forward to set his drink down, and then shifts his weight on the couch to search for something in his pocket.
It is not a large something; it feels about the size of a good gold coin, and it is wrapped casually inside a handkerchief. Shine hands the whole thing over, folded handkerchief and all, and watches.
Avrenne takes it into her right hand, using her left to gently and methodically unfold the handkerchief along angles to not disrupt the center placement of the object.
Within the handkerchief is, perhaps unsurprisingly, a watch. It is a delicate ladies' pocket watch, gold-plated, with a gold fob chain. It has a double-hunter case: the back of the case is engraved with Avrenne's monogram in flourishing script, and beneath this in tiny copperplate lettering, "CS 28." It opens to display the intricate inner workings of the watch, the tiny and precise mechanical movements under glass.
The front of the case is deceptively plain on its exterior, a smooth round of gold. It opens to reveal the watch's enamel face. A smaller inset face sweeps the seconds past smoothly, its steady tick barely audible even in the quiet room. It also reveals that the inside of the front case is engraved at its center with the Fallon kraken, and around its rim with the motto HOME AGAIN SAFE: the simple 'prayer' from Shine's tattoo.
Avrenne's entire body goes softer, as she breathes out an, "Oh." Her hand moves lightly over the watch, fingertips barely brushing the surfaces, as if the watch is something incredibly precious and delicate, as she turns it over, opens the cases. Her face is lit with a shining warmth, her smile brightening as she examines the inner workings, and then her lips pressing together in a sentimental touching of emotion at the prayer. "Oh, Shine. She's beautiful. What an extraordinary piece." She flicks her eyes from the watch to him, leaning her body closer like a willow bending in the breeze, her shoulder touching his, her hands occupied with the holding of the watch. "Thank you. I will treasure it."
He smiles at her. "You're welcome. It was going to have just the House words, but then after the storm, I thought…." He shrugs.
The reminder of the storm sets her shoulders to squaring off, and that flicker of unease quickly banished to the depths. She picks the watch up off the handkerchief by the chain. "I think it's most appropriate, and a good reminder, not only of now, but of the future. For Siamus, and for myself as well. Home again safe. Someday, we both will be."
"I was worried," Shine says casually — although he sits forward to reach for his drink again as he says it — "that he'd stop sailing. After —" He waves his glass vaguely.
Avrenne caresses the exterior of the watch with a light touch. "He couldn't have. It might have taken more time, perhaps, without some external impetus, but he could not deny that part of him forever. Siamus belongs on the sea. It's in his nature. He was always going to find his way back to her. It's what he does: he comes back." She shifts the folds of her nightgown and robe set, to better access the pockets. The watch is placed on the other side from the sea stalk case.
Her hand hovers over the other pocket, but in the end, she only traces the exterior, and settles her hands back in her lap. "And you? Another job under your belt, and more to come. You must have a sense now of the course?"
Shine muses, considering his glass. "It's good work," he says. "Good pay. Possible I could advance. I've not decided yet whether I'm… their sort. But it may be that they need more of my sort." He shrugs. "There are a great many Light-callers among them. The last work I did, it was with Lady Dara and Dame Valonforth — they're a priest and a paladin. They're both capable, but they're…" He tips his head and frowns. "Nice. Not — I don't mean that they're pleasant and mannerly, though they are. I mean there's a certain… delicacy about them. This sort of… Light-based chivalry I don't properly understand. Not chivalry like a gentleman's in society, but a sympathy that extends even to the enemy."
He shrugs and has a sip of his drink. "It may be just the pair of them; they're young and well-bred, and not yet seasoned fighters. Cobalt's got people like Sir Atley as well, and there's nothing delicate in him." He smiles wryly.
"Mm. Sintha mentioned something of that in Lady Dara's nature some time ago, that she seems to lack a certain worldliness, not only of experience, but deeper within, and a difficulty with following through on the harsher calculus of the world, if I recall correctly." Avrenne does, she's just rephrasing Sintha's actual words of squeamish and naive. "I don't know Dame Valonforth as well as I would like to know of her, though I am familiar with the family and their beliefs. Sir Somer — " Her voice wavers, and she pauses as she sets a hand at her waist, a gentle bracing against the swell of her pregnancy. Maybe it was just the babies moving, and not a wide pit of the sense of failure opening within her. "Sir Somer trained as a knight with them. As a whole, I find that most paladins hold to certain principles, based upon their understanding of the Light and the Church, that assume a particular sort of order to the world.
"Cobalt Company may have many people within it, but it was founded by a paladin in Lord Ference, and it may be that the principles that govern and guide their company are distilled from that perspective, and therefore encouraged in their members. Still, I can't imagine that they are strictly enforced beliefs around the enemy, or they would have never kept on the members that they have," Avrenne says. "Ralaea knows who her enemies are, and Miss Coit, of course, could be described in many ways, but delicate is not one of them."
That brings a small, involuntary smile back to Shine's face. "I would not call Miss Coit delicate, no. A fine woman, but not a delicate one." He has another sip of his drink and smiles at the fireplace.
After a moment, the smile fades. He is wearing his bland Footman Face when he asks, "How's your search going?"
"A search for a suitable partner for Miss Coit, you mean? In these matters, it's less of a search, as it is not about directing to a specific choice, but in offering up opportunities for Miss Coit to encounter certain individuals who may suit her well, that she might otherwise not have met," Avrenne says. She doesn't give any Significant Looks to Shine, because Avrenne is a subtle woman. The wording, however, seems deliberately chosen. "From there, it is a matter of Miss Coit's own preferences asserting themselves, and making her own decision. May I ask, has she spoken to you at all of what she's looking for, in a specific way?"
"To me? No." Shine arches his brow. "I don't expect it's my business as far as she's concerned. I know she's looking for a gentleman, which is why she's been… visiting with the Aspenwoods, going to Lord Bertrand and Lady Priscilla's wedding, so on."
"She is looking for a gentleman, as in a partner who holds to a certain system of beliefs and a truly respectful manner, and is capable of circulating in the society that she finds herself in, to better maintain that standing that she has worked hard to obtain." You know, like visiting the Aspenwoods. "She is not, as it happens, searching specifically for a gentleman or nobleman by birth, though she remains open to the possibility. The placement of the individual within society is far less important to her than their character, of which she hopes to place a measure of faith in, and who can stand by her through calm and storm," Avrenne says.
Shine nods at the fireplace and sips his drink again. "Aye, I see." He considers the liquor in his glass. "Well, as I say, she's a fine woman, and I hope she finds who she likes. I've admired her for some time." He glances at Avrenne and smiles faintly again. "I expect you'll steer her true."
"I intend to steer her to be true to her standards of what she really wants. She has compromised in the past, out of necessity and out of lack of opportunity, and this time, she will be supported so as to not settle," she says. "If I had to speak for what I would see for her, though it is only my opinion of course, I would say she would be best off with someone capable of being a social chameleon, able to play more than one part, as proficient in a parlor as in war. I don't think Miss Coit could be comfortable around someone who was only able to walk in one world, as she has learned for herself recently. She does need someone of a steadfast nature, dependable and trustworthy, and able to support her without judgment of her chosen courses." Her smile grows, a warmth in her eyes. "May I ask, how long is 'some time,' that you have admired her?"
Shine looks into his glass again, still with that slight smile; it has a rueful cant now. "I recollect her from Theramore. Saw her about. Some of the lads knew her."
That may be gently euphemistic.
"Oh, I see," Avrenne says. From the deliberate delicacy of her tone, she's aware of the euphemism. "That is quite some time. It's interesting that you should both meet later in the same place, along similar courses." A superstitious person might even consider some level of fate in the matter, although Avrenne is too rational to hint at such a thing directly. "Siamus wrote that he and Miss Coit intend to receive a shamanistic blessing that seems to allow for the easy traveling beneath the water, on the ocean floor even, as I understand it. Warlocks are capable of performing a spell that permits one to breathe underwater, though it cannot do anything for pressure."
That diverts him; Shine looks up. "Under the sea? As Cobalt's people did? He means to try it?" He pauses, shakes his head, laughs. "Of course he does. How would he not? But Miss Coit as well?"
Avrenne's smile brightens at the mention of Siamus' nature. "So he wrote. I'm not surprised she would like to accompany him. The sea has been of true interest to her, with the introduction to the Tidemother and the Kul Tiran way of viewing the ocean." The smile dims, and her hand drifts to her sea stalk case pocket. "He has had to leave the sea stalk aboard, for obvious reasons." As if to forestall that direction of her thoughts she adds, "And of course if Miss Coit can learn more of what the shaman did to achieve the feat that kept so many alive for so long, we might have more advancement on projects exploring places of the ocean previously considered inaccessible. It might not be something a warlock can duplicate, of course, but there is worth in learning and studying different methods all the same."
Shine nods thoughtfully. "Aye. As ye say, the shamans must have done something more than the breathing, something for the crush, as well." He considers this. "If a warlock can learn the matter, it would be Miss Coit; she's a quick, sharp lass."
"And she has not only more motivation to address the matter than most warlocks would, but also more opportunity to practice the development, as she is with the Fleet," Avrenne says. "When she is next back at home, perhaps she will have some possibilities to explore, and might only need strong swimmers who will not shy away from a challenge."
Shine turns his one-eyed gaze toward the fireplace. "Hm," he says. "Strong swimmers who like a challenge." He casts a slant look at her. "Don't think I can't see your hand on the wheel, Avrenne."
She doesn't even feign innocence or enigmatic denial. The benefits of friendship has her real laugh spin out, a smooth pour of whiskey sound, as she sets her hands lightly over her belly. "You know, you might consider taking a similar direct approach with Miss Coit when she comes back. She speaks of you differently than anyone else, though she hasn't yet realized it." Some bonus information for Shine, and a sense of where her support truly lies, as much as she's implied she is simply presenting Lena with Options. As usual, the options are accompanied by an agenda of the Duchess.
His brow arches. "So you approve?"
Avrenne's brows raise back in return, looking over at Shine with a warm expression. "Of course I do. Surely that doesn't come as such a surprise? Her description of what she is looking for describes someone of your nature down to some fairly precise degrees, and of all the company that she has considered in my hearing, the only one she spoke of with having an actual connection, a sense of fellowship, was your own. You speak of her in respectful and admiring terms, without judgement for her choices. It's only a matter of whether or not you have an interest in pursuing it further. I have nothing but a high esteem for Miss Coit, and equally so for yourself, and should you both find the other agreeable, I would be pleased by the match." Her eyes have brightness to them. "And so would be Siamus."
Shine looks back at the fireplace. "Well. Fallon's been a proper arse about it, so I know he wouldn't mind. But I did think ye were hoping for a gentleman for her, is all." There is a silence and then he asks thoughtfully, "She's spoken of me with you? Of a… fellowship?"
"What I see of most benefit to Miss Coit is someone with connections to Society, which is something you possess most obviously." He is, after all, sitting with his friend, The Duchess. "Whose manner and behavior can fit within that sphere, something you have gleaned for yourself over the years in service, the proper sense of a gentleman. Miss Coit needs her freedom, and needs a place where she can relax her manners to her natural state. A household that she must manage within a certain expectation of being scrutinized or restrictive social structure would not please her. She needs someone comfortable with being in between being in Society and sometimes not, a foot in both worlds as she has.
"We spoke of you in particular after your visit to the Shrine. I had asked her if she had felt any effortless camaraderie with any of the people she had spoken with, and as she said no, having interpreted the question to mean those at Priscilla's wedding, but in the very next moment was relating how she had confided in you this sense of feeling, and the way she spoke of you was in entirely different manner than any of the rest, not a report on what she had learned of the person, of benefits or drawbacks, but as one speaks of a companion. And of all those suggested of meeting on an outing, it was you she asked of for your interests, and how you might benefit from knowing her, a consideration that came effortlessly."
"How I might benefit from knowing her?" Shine looks puzzled.
"Her connections in Cobalt Company, those she knows that she might introduce you to favorably, and increase your circle within it," Avrenne says with approval. It's possible that for Avrenne, this is a Romantic Gesture.
Shine's lips twitch slightly. It's possible he knows that for Avrenne, this is a Romantic Gesture. "She was very helpful to me," he says.
He cuts another sidelong look at her. "Ye think I ought to be… direct? It struck me that she might be skittish about it."
"I think that she is actively evaluating her options for a partner, and interested in having one, but has a certain…" Avrenne articulates a vague circle in the air. "Expectation of how it will happen, and thus has begun to narrow her field of vision within it, and might not see who is available, and may be deliberately more cautious in not pursuing a broad approach. She strikes me as a woman who does not thrive in uncertainty in regards to where she stands with a person, of how they see her, and will often deliberately behave in a single specific way to enforce the creation of a firmer version of herself. She has a certain flexibility of manner, but she prefers to be in control of it." Not entirely unlike some Duchesses on this couch.
"I can only imagine that there is some delicacy with the precise way of approach to introduce the possibility of interest in a way that is not ambiguous but not too direct, given her past, but I'm certain you are up to the task, should you decide on pursuit of the interest."
"Oh," says Shine dryly. "I suppose I've decided on pursuit of the interest, aye."
"Lovely," Avrenne says, with the pleased air of someone marking something down in an internal ledger. Or perhaps checking off something a list. The woman is a menace of match making meddling, and she might very well count marriage not only as a business, but also a hobby of hers.
Shine laughs gently at her manner. "And are you a bookmaker in these matters as well? What are my odds, do you rate?"
"Oh, people are not so easy to quantify in numerical values," Avrenne says, with that tone of someone saying which we all obviously find disappointing. "But I shall put it this way, if I were to place any expectations of success, I would place them on you. I think you're well suited by all considerations." The math checks out, at least on paper. "It's only a matter of putting it into practice."
"'Well suited by all considerations,'" Shine repeats gravely, and nods. "No higher praise." He looks back at the hearth. "Then I will think how best to go unambiguously about it when they return."
"When they return," Avrenne repeats. Which they definitely will do. It's a when, not an if. But if her hand drifts uselessly towards the sea stalk case, with a half-dead flower that can't tell her anything at all, maybe there's still some small admission that it isn't guaranteed.
Instead of succumbing to the temptation to check a fruitless data point, she twitches her nightgown into place in an intent to stand. Right. Carry on and all that stiff upper lip distraction. "Should we allow it to remain a two cushion, to give you opportunity to think on the matter?" It's a bit of a playful tease. Shine can most certainly handle thinking and three cushion billiards. But then Avrenne wouldn't have even a chance at beating him.
"Are you implying that I can't think and play three cushion at the same time?" Shine asks mildly. There is the glimmer of a smile in his eye. He tips up his glass to drain his drink, leans forward to set it aside on the table, and gets to his feet.
"I'm implying that with the amount of time you'd have to think while I miss my shots repeatedly and spend a great deal of time lining up at three cushion would be perhaps enough that you would be in danger of over thinking," Avrenne counters. So, really, she's doing a Shine a favor with two cushion billiards. It has nothing to do with the fact that at that level, Avrenne stands a chance at actually winning.
"That is most gracious of you, my lady," says Shine with solemn footman's courtesy. He offers her his hand to help her rise. "It's sporting of you to think of my mental well-being rather than your own odds of victory."
Avrenne takes his hand and rises to a stand, a little less elegantly than usual — the Russian judge is merciless in judgment even with the pregnancy — and feigns innocence with a dignified composure. "Oh, now, surely you don't suspect me of setting a course to play the odds to my advantage?" Gosh, would she do that?
(Yes. All the time.)
"I suspect ye unequivocally," Shine says. "You and Fallon are a matched pair." He lets go of her hand and goes to collect cues from the wall cupboard. "I'm just lucky my skill overmatches your stratagems," he observes piously over his shoulder.
"Mm," Avrenne says with a smile. "For now."
"For now," he agrees.