(no subject)

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

The young man lounging against the lion couldn't possibly be too far out of the ordinary for Milliways. There was beef for him to eat, which the lion was sharing - the youth's cooked, the lion's raw, and on the youth's knees, there was a book. A book of sketches. He seemed content enough.

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[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur walks past the two, on her way back to her table with a refilled glass of buttermilk. She stops a few feet away, comes back, and stares, eyes narrowed in curiosity.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

He feels, more than sees, someone near, and slowly raises his eyes.

And then Cynric stares.

[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur is polite enough to look down and away, rather than stare at Cynric when he's staring at her. "H'lo," the hani says, a little shyly.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

"A greeting," he says with a nod, eyes going slightly faraway as the lir-link becomes active between he and the great lion that shores him up.

Lorrin?

Remember what this place is. Remember that all can come here. I have no more knowledge than you.

Then that makes two, woefully ignorant.

"...Pardon my stare."

[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur dips her ears briefly. "I am Chur Anify par Chanur -" for some reason, formality seems called for "- and I am hani, from Anuurn," she introduces herself. "I... your friend - he is not hani?"

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

"I am Cynric," he said, conspicuously leaving off any further titles. "I am ... Cheysuli and Ihlini, and this is Lorrin - my lir."

For a moment, he almost seems as if he could smile.

"He is a lion. But I do not believe he could be hani... though I see the similarity."

[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur dips an ear to Lorrin, respectfully. "Does na Lorrin talk? I have seen pictures of 'lions', but my world does not have anything like those, ser Cynric."

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

"Lorrin speaks, but through the lir-link, to me. And to the other lir, but the magic and touch of the gods does not extend further." And for a moment, he's a bit wry. "And it may be better for me, that all can't hear his reprimands against me."

[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur's ears go forward and her eyes narrow in curiosity again. "Among hani, it is not usually the males giving the reprimands... though I suppose as one to another it might make sense."

Then she asks Lorrin directly, "na Lorrin, do you only reprimand him, or do you feel the need to bat his ears as well?" It's easy to forget, when seeing someone who looks a lot like you and your species, that humans don't really have prominent ears.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

A moment passes, and Cynric's eyes grow distant as Lorrin speaks -- and for a moment, he almost smiles once more.

"Lorrin would like me to tell you that not only has he reprimanded me and batted my ears, he has also bowled me off my feet more than once - which I admit is truth."

[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur sneezes a laugh. "Young men frequently need correction," she tells Lorrin, then addresses Cynric again. "My apologies, I did not mean to talk around you." She is quite obviously amused, to one who can read feline body language, and not serious about the apology.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

Ah, but Cynric had Lorrin to learn from. And more, he had his own leonine shape when the need came. "Such speech, I'm becoming used to."

In fact, it's a welcome change.

[mapmakerchur.livejournal.com]

Chur sneezes another laugh. "Have you and na Lorrin been here long? I would think instead of comparing me to Earth lions, other people in the bar might compare me directly with him, if they knew of him."

[son-of-all.livejournal.com]

After leaving Asar-Suti in peace, Atreyu wanders toward the bar, thinking of tea or perhaps something a little stronger, to keep back the oppressive quiet of the bar this evening. Halfway across, however, he glimpses the tufted end of Lorrin's tail and adjusts his path, coming to stand in front of the two.

Together, they combine into a perfect feeling of partnership and peace, and for just a moment Atreyu thinks of Falkor.

"Cynric," he says with a narrow smile. "And Lorrin. Hello again."

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

And Cynric looks up, recognizing the voice. As rarely as he smiles, he manages most of one at seeing, "Atreyu. Some time has passed since I've seen you."

[son-of-all.livejournal.com]

"Too much," Atreyu agrees, sinking down to the floor in one movement, crossing his legs beneath him. His smile fades into something a bit more neutral, but no less warm. "I'm glad enough to see you both again."

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

"And I'm glad to see you." He nudged the plate of roast beef, still thick and steaming, toward Atreyu, offering to share. "I would believe my world is losing me to this place. I make myself go back at times."

[son-of-all.livejournal.com]

Eyebrow arching, Atreyu gladly accepted the offer of food, chewing carefully, swallowing before answering. "You do prefer it here," he says after a moment, and part of him understands that. There's a freedom from responsibility that comes with this place, and the part of him that must act as diplomat--that must not choose or pass judgment, in Fantasia--embraces that freedom as something he's not known since the very early years of his childhood.

"I might as well," he murmurs. With the added presence of his two greatest friends.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

"I do," Cynric said, looking to Lorrin, and looking to the gold about his arms before answering. "To hold station and be revered for that is to be distanced. Is to be treated as an object, a thing. Perhaps a beautiful thing, a thing set apart, a valued thing worth more than even a human soul, but a thing. Here, there is no station. No rank. I am Cynric, foremost."

[son-of-all.livejournal.com]

"No responsibility," Atreyu adds, voice soft. His fingertips trace over the topmost curve of Auryn, the snake in white, then the snake in black. He hasn't felt objectified, as Cynric clearly has, but he has been used. Sometimes for good, sometimes for ill, but often, overall.

His lips curve. "You are Cynric," he affirms. "You need be no one else."

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

For once, the smile was returned - and with as much warmth as cool grey eyes could muster. "And that is why my world loses me, moment by moment, while I am here. I know the responsibility I must take... But here, I have breath rather than being an icon."

But at the mention of 'icon', his gaze dropped to the pendant hanging against Atreyu's chest - then rose once more. Understanding. Though the meaning of Auryn was not known, the touch told him all he'd needed to know.

[son-of-all.livejournal.com]

Atreyu lowers his eyes for just a moment as well, then met that understanding levelly enough, eye to eye. They were a contrast with which he was familiar--black to grey, dark to light, or something less strictly defined.

Cynric's position in his world is plain, but Atreyu will never say it without explicit invitation.

"Will there be a day when you never return at all?" he asks instead, solemnly curious. Probably too personal a question, but surely one of the two will tell him, if so.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

A few moments of silence. Cynric's eyes go distant as he listens to the lion's voice within him, hears his own answering. The discussion isn't long, but long enough that Cynric's expression falls.

"Would that it could be," he answered at last, a faint bit cooler, more resigned. "Could it be, I would make it so. But they have need of me, and have waited for my presence for far too long. Someday... there will be a day when I must go there and never return.

"It will not be a day heralded by anticipation, but anxiety."

[son-of-all.livejournal.com]

"I apologize," Atreyu says after his own moment of silence. "I've ruined your good humor, I think, for nothing but my own curiosity." Not exactly diplomatic, or even particularly forgiveable. "Again, I am sorry." He bows his head slightly to both Cynric and his lir.

[of-all-blood.livejournal.com]

But there was a faint shake of his head. "Your curiousity, my reality - neither can be changed, especially as one has been ..." Cynric's head tilted, looking closely at Atreyu - his eyes, his expression - to judge. "...Perhaps not quite sated. And the other is undeniable. My reality is something I need reminding of, lest my daydreams take too much hold."