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[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

Arithon s'Ffalenn is in the bar.

Forgive him if he does not stand, he can not at current time.

This is because there is very little left of him.

By "very little", we mean that every ounce of fat, and much of his muscle, has been burned away. No beguiling slenderness, no attractive and lithe form, but nearly a walking skeleton covered in flesh like darkened and dried leather that barely manages to strain across his joints.

The eyes are the same, of course, and his hair.

He's curled up in a chair, one of the soft ones, with a cup of broth and a jug of water, watching the fire as it burns.

Comments

[abotticellilady.livejournal.com]

And Bianca stares. She was not expecting, could never have thought...

She stares for a moment, and then does not quite remember moving but she must have as she's in front of him.

"...Amore?"

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

"Ama'idan."

He breathes it, quietly, and sets the cup down with care so that he can touch her face,

"It was harsh."

[abotticellilady.livejournal.com]

She's kneeling. It'll be an issue to get up, but she's kneeling anyway so she doesn't have to reach that far.

"I can see." Slowly, she brings one of her hands up to touch his.

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He turns to kiss her hand, gently, and closes his eyes,

"Nynaeve Sedai healed the worst of it."

[abotticellilady.livejournal.com]

"I will have to thank her, should I see her. Have you eaten enough?"

[futures_of_ash]

[And I should really read Bar afore posting Rach in...so...millitimed to later in the night perhaps?]

The flames leap and flicker as they should, though in greater tempo it seems, keeping beat with a heart's gentle rythym. And there's a hand, soft and slightly damp, reaching over the back of the chair to touch his shoulder softly in worry...

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He reaches up and covers her hand with his own.

::Need, Balance, and it is done. One freedom regained.::

Love, life, Ath, song, joy, exhaustion.

[futures_of_ash]

She cannot fix everything, no, but she can offer her strength as long as it is necessary. She knows what it is to dwell like this, and she had been helped through it as well. So, there is sheeting, roaring strength should he care for it...

Otherwise, she's just kneeling behind the chair, head resting on his shoulder and hair tumbling against his. She'll beg details later.

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He strokes her hair; the sister he never had and always needed.

Always needed.

And his lips curve. It isn't pretty, but its a smile and its a real one. He accepts her strength, and promises silently that he'll take care of himself.

Really, he will. He's a better patient than most people.

[futures_of_ash]

She can hardly expect pretty from him right now, just as he'd not cared when she was bleeding and still trying to smile between her madness and her pain...it's what family does, accepts smiles, and the intent behind them.

And so warmth and surety seep and wash into dessicated muscles, a careful ocean that he'll never be barred from.

And she chuckles, seems it's his turn for broth from Bar.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy notices the figure as he's passing by. His accomplished expression is rapidly tarnished by a heavy frown.

"Ari. What the...?"

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

"Indy."

He smiles. It isn't pretty.

It really isn't pretty.

"I have Balanced a set of scales long waiting."

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy doesn't grimace. He's seen horrors worse than this. But, it's still not easy. It takes a hard swallow before he can coax the next words out.

"And how much flesh did you have to give to do that, exactly?"

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He looks at his hands, then up at the American,

"Most of it? Tienelle. It is very dangerous. Useful, but too much and..."

A small gesture at his own body.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Indy shakes his head and sets himself on the arm of the chair.

"What is Tienelle when it's at home?"

[song_tra_bong]

It's a corpse, she thinks, oddly detatched.

There's a corpse in the bar.

But she remembers those eyes and the room feels suddenly cold.

"Arithon?"

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

"Mary Anne."

He murmurs, and his voice is ground glass over sandpaper. It fluxuates and twists in odd ways and uncomfortable,

"Ama'idan, I can not greet you as is proper."

[song_tra_bong]

"No, no, don't worry about it..."

That voice she remembered through a wraith-haze, the music--
all is silent in the halls of the--
She crouches beside the chair.

"What in hell happened?"

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

"Balance is a difficult thing to find."

He says quietly, lips peeled back in a (death mask) smile,

"At times rather more than others. It is called tienelle, Seer's Weed."

[song_tra_bong]

She doesn't cringe.

"And you...used it? To do what exactly?"

Yes, the name gives a fairly large clue, but the why is beyond her.

[the_lioness]

Busy with plans for the mural she and Raven plan on painting, Alanna nearly walks by her friend. She offers the slight figure a small smile and takes a few more steps before realization sets in. Astonished, her mouth drops open and she spins around, dropping down before him as worried eyes travel over his frame.

"Arithon? What's happened?"

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He looks up at her, smiles wryly, and says,

"I dischared a debt."

[the_lioness]

"What sort of debt?"

It comes out more sharply than intended, and temper wars with worry in her eyes. Very carefully, she reaches out to touch him.

[prince-arithon.livejournal.com]

He catches her hand (skin like dried leather) and kisses it gently,

"A severe one. It was mine, and it is over. Fear not, dal fal ka."

[the_lioness]

Still bristling, she bites her lip at the feel of his hand and wishes she could hurt the person or thing responsible. Several deep breaths later, she starts to relax. Her fingers curl gently around his.

"Aye. But you are all right now?" For a given value of all right.