milliways_bar | (no subject)

*Alanna laughs and ruffles his hair. Also a reflex.*

Would you prefer I kiss a total stranger -by all appearances, that is- on the mouth?

Well, once you knew it was ME.

*She looks at him askance and smiles.*

This is all highly irregular. Perhaps I should go find Arithon and have him illusion me into someone else. I don't know how else to explain.

Does this help?

*Breathing a sigh of relief, she slides off her stool and leans forward, kissing him.*

Aye, it does.

*She smiles brightly and kisses his nose.* But do not spoil your fun on my account. I'll learn to deal.

*He kisses her once more before changing back.*

I won't make you kiss him.

I'm not sure he's allowed to, anyway.

No, but surely hugs are allowed?

*She hugs him, beard and all. For some reason, she doesn't want to let go.*

*He holds her close in his arms, and is careful not to brush against her with the scruffy beard.*

*Eventually, she bites her lip and pulls back, avoiding his eyes as she climbs back on her stool. The short dress and overly large shoes make this rather hard to do with any sort of dignity.*

So.

Jesus.

I am a horrid person.

*Adam. Jesus. Blinks.*

Why?

Because.

*She flushes, laughing silently.*

I just wondered how your father would react to this. Your father, not... his.

Is it bad if I say I don't care?

No. *She kicks her feet out, thumping the side of his stool.* Lucifer never gave you a reason to care.

Do you like those robes?

They're very comfortable. The sandals, too. I think he may have been on to something. They don't really look like much, though, do they?

Perhaps you need to ask an unbiased person.

*She smiles, moving some of the fabric at his shoulder and tilting her head.*

You see... they look very much like the robes the Bazhir wear. So if you go there with me... at least you'll have had practice.

What's the Bazhir do?

The Bazhir are a desert people. They are hunters, fighters... a strong people with strong beliefs. *She adjusts another fold, an odd look in her eyes.* Only recently have most of them acknowledged the King in the North. Jonathan became the Voice of the Tribes, you see. The Bloody Hawk tribe adopted me not long after I won my shield. They already knew of me after... well.

*She pauses, curling her fingers in.*

I was their Shaman for a time.

*He tilts his head, a smile crossing his face.*

Really.

Yes, really. *She bites her lip and looks up.* Well, I sort of killed the one they had. It was the least I could do.

...killed? And they didn't revolt against you?

No. It's... complicated. Coram and I were several days out of Corus when we were attacked by hillmen. Halef Seif and the Bloody Hawk helped us fend them off, then told us we too were trespassing. *She smiles.* But because of what Jon and I had done in the Black City, they took us back to their camp. Some wanted to kill us, some wanted to welcome us. It was decided by trial by combat.

I won.

The Shaman, Ibn Nazzir, thought I was unnatural, and continued to call for my death. He tried many things, including using power he did not have. He lashed out at me, and died during the fight. It was his own fault. He just never expected me to have even more power than he.

*He blinks at her, unsure what to say. He settles on placing a hand on her arm.*

I'm... sorry.

Don't be. *She blinks, remembering the black cloud that had cut off her breathing.* I'm not. I didn't actively slay him, and I was just fighting for my life.

He had an evil sword. *Alanna goes very still.* It corrupted him. We later learned that the sword had been made by Roger.

I... melded that sword with Lightning. That is how I was able to kill Roger the second time. He called the sword to him, and expected me to follow.

I just let go.

*Adam doesn't move his hand.*

Wow.

*Surprised, she looks up.*

It's still there. Stuck in rock in the catacombs right where he died. He died laughing. I hear it all the time. The silver designs... magic... it all flowed together and burst into flames, but still he laughed.

*She swallows hard and stares at her coffee cup.*

I'm sorry. *hoarsely* I can't seem to stop thinking about him recently. Do you suppose I'm obsessed? I mean... he hasn't done anything.