Sleep at my Hearth

The cold, deep darkness of the night outside had driven Zeke home early this evening, and he'd built a large fire in the big open fireplace that was the dominant feature of the room. It was more than just a fireplace however, and included an actual hearth with a cooking pot. One that had a decorative fish hovering above the hanging 'cauldron' which was set aside and quite empty at the moment. Set back from the hearth was a dark blue chaise sofa, a backless soft-cushioned thing which had arm rests and seats but that was it in deference to the sith-makar's tail.

All in all, it was a warm, homey place, and yet there was a strange emptiness to it without any vases, pictures, or draperies to speak of to make it feel more... lived in. In fact it was so clean and orderly that it might well have been bought exactly like this if not for the sparse furniture. Zeke sat on the couch at the moment, curled up somewhat and leaning against an arm as he read a book by the light of the healthy fire in his hearth. The rest of the house was mostly dark, and lent to the sense of emptiness.

There's a quiet knock at the door, an unusual thing at this hour of the night. The knock is a quiet, almost tentative thing, as of one unsure of one's welcome, or if they even have the right place.

The tentative sound easily catches Zeke's ear and though he's surprised by it, he quickly rises to his feet and sets his book down before making his way to the door. He's confused, right up until the moment that he opens the door, so for just a moment his confusion is evident to the person standing there, and then he relaxes, shifting his tail in pleasure at the sight that he is greeted with. He opens the door more widely, moving aside so that his guest can enter. "Peasssce on your nessst, and welcome to thisss onesss."

"Her light of blessing upon this place," Seldan greets quietly, the barest ghost of a smile forming across his features and coming close to his eyes. By the pale light of a manalamp outside in the street, he wears his customary shirt, trousers and robe that Zeke will know is likely an illusion covering full armor, and Reunion at his hip, but he bears two paper-wrapped parcels, tied together with twine, and one at least immediately bearing a scent that proclaims _roasted chicken_. "I had thought it my turn to bring a meal to you."

What is disturbing, though, is that the man looks _exhausted_. Perhaps it is the light that gives him an unusually pale cast, but there is no mistaking the dark circles, the lines of weariness, the set of his shoulders. He bears the mark of a man who has slept but little in some time, and very possibly not eaten regularly, either.

"Come in, pleassse." Zeke moves further back so that Seldan will - hopefully - enter. "That isss very kind of you kin." There's a healer's eyes on Seldan now though, and a worried one at that. The few outward indicators of exhaustion and lack of care are worrying to Zeke, but the fact that he can see them at all is even more so. He has to, and does, assume that the truth is worse than it seems at first glance. "Sssit down, sssit down."

Enter, Seldan does, almost as an afterthought. It doesn't do to leave the door open to the chill, after all, and the warmth inside is welcome. The parcels are set down in a convenient location, where preparation may happen, as needed. He does make for the couch, but does not yet sit, instead turning to Zeke. "May I remove my armor in this place?" The question holds an unspoken piece - _which do you prefer, removal of armor or armor on the sofa?_ "The potatoes may be set in the fireplace coals to cook," he offers. No need to mention Zeke's preference for seeing his food cooked before him, the paladin is well aware of that - and of why.

Zeke pauses at Seldan's question, and yet if his tail is any indication he is pleased by it. "Thisss one would be glad to have you make yourssself comfortable Sseldan." He was about to go for the package, to attend to dinner, but he stops shy, remembering Seldan's need for assistance when removing his armor. "If you will make it visssible to thisss one, thisss one would be glad to be your assssissstant in itsss removal."

A tiny smile, a rueful thing, tugs at Seldan's lips, a little stronger than the first one. "Of course." He speaks a word in the sildanyari tongue, and it takes its usual moonlit form. He immediately sets aside gauntlets, and shrugs off the robe over top of it, laying the gauntlets on the floor to one side, the robe over the arm of the sofa, and both are quickly followed by his weapon belt. He then begins to set about removing the rest, turning himself to permit Zeke to help. Two hands makes quicker and more thorough work with this.

"I am grateful, kin. I would not normally choose to undress in another's home, but nor is it politic to have armor on the sofa."

With the sith equivalent of a smile, in his ever-shifting tail, Zeke sets to helping Seldan with his armor. "Thisss onesss nessst isss your nessst asss well Ssseldan. We are kin." This makes such social niceties easier, though he knows that softskins have their own customs and that this can re-complicate things. Even after all these years knowing Seldan, he understands that there are simply certain things that he will never truly know.

"I make no such assumptions upon my first visit to another's nest, Zeke." Seldan's answering smile is a little bigger, and this time, a reflection of it reaches his eyes. It is not the warm, easy grin that he possessed when first he came to Alexandria, but such is rare to see these days, and that he is smiling at all marks a departure from his demeanor of late.

Removing the armor takes little enough time, and the paladin leaves it in a semi-tidy heap on the floor, against the wall and out of the way. When it and the padding beneath have been removed, only a thin, unbleached shirt, trousers, and hose remain. These, Seldan makes no attempt to remove, saying only, "May I aid you in attending to dinner, or tea?"

"You can attend to the tea, if you like, while thisss one attendsss to the ressst." Zeke immediately takes the bulk of the actual 'work' upon himself, though of course the more subtle need remains. Handling his food to ensure that it is real and what he thinks it is, is something that makes him feel reassured. Thus he chooses this task for himself. He gathers up the bag, and finds the tea quickly which he hands over to Seldan while he attends to the rest of it. The bag itself contains some potatoes and a couple of chickens which are quite whole.

Knowing this of Zeke, Seldan immediately accepts the assignment, locating a tea set - a thing never far in a home that Zeke occupies - and cups. Tea into the bottom, but he looks about for a source of clean water, not being familiar with the home.

Thankfully the dining area is close to and unobstructed from the living area, and thus finding water is not a difficult thing. Zeke offers what directions that are necessary. There's a tea set setting out on the counter, ready to go, and a kettle sitting beside that. Water, necessary for the brewing is unsurprisingly not far from there. Zeke attends quietly to the rest of the food, and when he's done he stands up and steps back from the hearth so that Seldan can hang the kettle over it; moving to his sofa to pick up his book and settle down.

"You ssseeem... tired Ssseldan. Would you ssshare wordsss with thisss one thisss night asss well asss a meal?"

"I would always share words with you, Zeke." Indeed, the rasp of weariness underlies the words, and once the kettle of water is hung to heat, Seldan takes himself over, to a part of the furniture that is clearly not the part Zeke had been sitting in, and settles himself down. "In truth had I sought some peace," he murmurs. "Mal is ... not handling the werewolf attack well, and he wakes in the night." Those eyes slide to the floor. "I worry for him, Zeke. It is in my mind that a life such as mine is not for him."

Zeke makes room for Seldan on the couch, though its more than comfortable enough for a pair. He makes note to himself though that if he wants to have more guests that more furniture is required. "Thisss one isss sssorry to hear that your mate isss not fairing well Sseldan." He takes this as seriously as he might Seldan's own. "Thissss one can not ssspeak for Malik, but if he issss having bad dreamsss... he may need sssomeone to ssshare wordsss with him-ssself. A perssson who can ssspeak to the sssource of hisss fearsss. Thisss life... it isss not for every-one."

He looks at Seldan. "Hasss hisss ssstate made you quessstion your own plasce in thisss misssion to end Eclavdran?"

"That do I not question. I must do it, not merely for us, but for all of Alexandria, and indeed for all of Ea." Seldan settles into the a couch with a barely-audible groan, and leans back against the arm, unruly bright hair spilling into eyes that drift closed. "I must also wrest artifacts of power from a malevolent cult, wrest the shard of a god from a warlord who means to use it to enslave all he can, seek out demonic wasps that are proliferating in the city, and contend with a Guild whose members I dare not trust. Nor are they the sole source of the infernal."

The blue-scale blinks at Seldan's list. "That isss... you are plascing too much upon your-ssself Ssseldan. You can not be expected to do all of thessse thingsss. You... _can not_ do _all_ of thessse thingsss." Zeke shakes his head at Seldan. "Can no one aid you Ssseldan? Isss there no one but kin that you can trussst?"

"Few indeed will. Do I seek the temple, someone will find an errand for me. I have taken to walking lightly there as well, if at all." Seldan leans back, eyes closed, the weariness of one who finally gets to sit down after a long day evident. "Griva seeks me out, I think, for few look beyond what is to its meaning, and to what will be, does nothing change."

Zeke sighs, but softly, watching Seldan slowly relax against his couch. "True that might be." He offers, thinking as the scent of food begins to permate the enviroment of his home. It's a scent that encourages relaxation. "Yet thisss one worriesss about you. Thisss one can tell that you have not been sssleeping well enough, nor attending to your bodiesss needsss."

"There is not time, and do I sleep at home, too often does Mal wake me." Seldan doesn't move, as if he is relieved to be sitting still. "There is a great deal to be done, Zeke, and few enough places may I rest without interruption."

"You may alwaysss find ressst here Sseldan." Zeke says softly, but meaningfully. "Even if thisss one isss not here; thisss one hopesss that you will conssider thisss plasce a ssanctuary."

The words are a gift, and something in Seldan's face relaxes in gratitude. "I would not seek your home uninvited, and yet is a place where I may not be found of great value to me. I shall endeavor to use it not overmuch, and thereby abuse it. Thank you."

There were no more words after that, just one sleepy paladin falling asleep in a place of comfort.

-End