The Lovers' Paradox

Log Info

• Title: The Lovers' Paradox

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: A08 - Northern Banks of the Tornmawr

• Summary: Ravenstongue and Telamon take advantage of the warmer weather to go for a picnic at one of their favorite places in Alexandria. They discuss their past and present writing efforts, poetry and otherwise, and they discuss hypothetical what-if pasts while enjoying sandwiches by the shore. Eventually the conversation lulls and the two just enjoy each other's company by the river in a calm and quiet moment.

-=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A08: Northern Banks of the Tornmawr *>--=--=--=--=--=--=-

In the shadow of the great Highbridge, and beneath the guardhouses, a stretch of river has been laid out as a public park and fishing area. Here, the descending landscape of Alexandria folds into the river and crafts a comfortable view. On a typical day, a number of small boats and picnic blankets dot the landscape. To the side, a small shrine to Rada the River Serpent, as well as a dual shrine to Althea and Daeus, in their guise as Mother and Father of the world.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The city is on the very cusp of spring, the cold finally breaking for the past few days. Not even the light rain will stop a pair of half-elves from venturing out to their favorite shoreline for a picnic.

"I am so glad it isn't winter anymore," Ravenstongue says, carrying the picnic basket they've assembled. She looks rather smart today in a blue cotton dress that is tailored to her form--a modest but fashionable look for the early spring. "And I'm also glad Grandfather agreed to babysit Pothy for a while. It's nice to have time that's just for the two of us."

As the weather has gotten warmer it's definitely improved Telamon's spirits, and he's dressed in a ruffled white blouse, leather trousers, a broad belt, and boots. "No arguments, love. I understand we need the cycle of seasons but I really detest the winter months." An unseen servant trundles along next to the pair, carrying Tel's gyroparasol to fend off any stray rain if needed. "You can almost feel spring starting to... well, spring, I suppose. Terrible wording. I need to go back to practicing my poetry."

"Me too," Ravenstongue agrees as she looks back at Telamon with a little grin. "I suppose that's what we both get for putting our free time into, ah, other activities lately."

She can't even finish the sentence without her cheeks coloring, and she coughs. "Not that it's all we've been doing, of course, but I have to say it hasn't been the most productive environment for poetry."

They approach the banks and Ravenstongue carefully makes her way down, the sand clinging to her wedge-heeled boots. "Good thing we brought a blanket," she comments as she opens up the picnic basket to draw out one of the hand-knitted throws that Grandfather gifted them a few weeks ago. "And your servant is, as ever, handy as always!"

The servant opens the parasol out completely, holding it up to offer cover for the couple. "They do seem quite adept at simple things," Telamon comments. Helping lay out the throw, before sitting down on it with Raven.

At her mention of 'other activities', he colors a bit as well, but keeps his composure. "Oh, I don't know. I've written, ah, a -few- things about it. Which I am -not- sharing with anyone except you -- if I get the nerve to do so. Some things should be kept private." He's -still- blushing about it.

"Really?" Ravenstongue grins as she flattens down the back of her dress so that the skirt doesn't puff out awkwardly beneath her as she goes to sit down on the blanket. She gives him a conspiratorial nudge of the shoulder as she says, "I'd like to read them. Is it poetry? Diary entries?--I actually don't even know if you keep a diary."

She reaches into the picnic basket and pulls out two sandwiches wrapped in butcher paper that were purchased from a nearby sandwich shop and hands one to Telamon. "I used to keep a journal of sorts when I was a teenager," she says. "I call it a journal because it wasn't really writing about my daily life--not really much for me to write about there, after all--as much as it was writing poetry and stories. Sometimes I even wrote little continuations of the stories I was reading."

Telamon removes the bottle of cider he suggested, as well as a pair of cups. "Yes, it's poetry. And... um... oh hells, I'll just show it to you when we get back. But by the gods, please don't show them to anyone else. I don't think they're that good, to start with." He's still got color in his face, as he tries to compose himself.

"I've never kept a journal," he replies, trying to divert the topic. Pouring drinks for the two of them. "I mean, I would keep notes on projects, and I wrote about my experiences when I developed my talent. But a diary? No."

"Maybe we could give you more inspiration for the poetry when we get back too," Ravenstongue says playfully, nudging his shoulder in the same manner--but very gently. After all, getting cider everywhere wasn't her idea of a nice picnic. "But no, I won't show them to anyone. After all, they're about me ... Right?"

The accusatory tone in her voice is clearly playful as she laughs it off. "It was nice to have the journal. I didn't really have any other hobbies when I was younger, so I just read books and I wrote things. Sometimes I even came up with my own original work... But none of it was very good. It was all wish-fulfillment."

Ravenstongue smirks. "Sometimes I wrote myself into my favorite stories and had 'me' as the sudden center of attention. The original protagonist either died a horrible death or suddenly turned into a villain."

Telamon manages to keep from blushing this time. It's a near thing though. "Yes, they're all about you. I don't think I'd have the nerve to write anything like that about anyone else." He shakes his head, unwrapping his sandwich.

"You've mentioned you had a hard time connecting with anyone, aside from your mother," he remarks. "I... guess it makes sense, you'd spend more time with your books." His eyes soften as he looks at her. "I wish I could've been there. Told you it would get better. Even if I'd only been your friend."

Ravenstongue unwraps her sandwich too and takes a bite, a pleased hum leaving her as she snaps into the bread. She nods her head as she listens to Telamon, her eyes wandering back to him up from the sandwich with his last few words.

The violet gaze softens as well, a sad little smile adorning her face. "Tel, I think I probably would have fallen for you just the same," she says. "Maybe not right away--I was a scaredycat about strangers, which is why I shut myself in my room every time my mother's clients came to the house to discuss work with her--but you probably could have gotten me to leave my room. Especially from the moment I realized you're like me. 'Children of two worlds,' I think you said when we first met."

She leans in and kisses his cheek. "But then again, I probably would have scared you off. I was much less socially adept when I was younger."

Telamon smiles, as he munches on his sandwich, looking at her tenderly. He considers, then shakes his head. "I might've surprised you. I was always a bit of a social flutterby, even as a child. It's why father thought I might make a good diplomat and emissary. Thankfully I never had any inclination to be a hell-raiser -- I just led a merry band of elf and human children around, getting into shenanigans. The cheeky and fun kind, I mean."

His eyes grow a little distant, and he smiles. "We caught an older boy who was a bit of a bully and tied him to a tree, then took turns telling him -exactly- what we thought of him, and what we'd do to him if he didn't quit. Individually, we might've been smaller than him; together, we were invincible."

Ravenstongue snickers after washing down more bites of her sandwich with the cider that he poured for her. "Somehow it doesn't surprise me you were the leader of a child gang," she says. "Well, okay--'gang' makes it sound like you got into trouble, which you didn't. Wish you could have somehow ended up in Rune with your merry band and--"

She shakes her head with a grin. "Would have been a bit like a fairy tale, wouldn't it? Imagine you standing outside of my room imploring me to come out. 'Let down your hair,' maybe. Mother cut my hair short--I only started growing it this long after she died because I didn't really know how to cut my own hair well," she says, indicating her loose-flowing waves, as she's preferred to wear it lately while in the city, with a wave of her hand.

Telamon laughs softly. "Mother used to jokingly ask 'what's that band of riffraff up to?' about us. But we weren't the type to cause trouble -- well, not serious trouble. We -did- spend a week helping in the guard armory, cleaning and polishing, because... well, there was no way to know that Maria was a latent druid and her 'kitty' was a bit bigger than your usual barn cat."

"Maria, huh?" Ravenstongue asks, curious about the female name. Was there a hint of jealousy there?

"Lucky girl to have you for a childhood friend," she says with a smirk. "Although it sounds like she probably had more pressing matters to deal with. Like kitty being, well, not a kitty. And not so sweet, either, from the sound of it."

Ravenstongue tilts her head in a contemplative manner for a moment as she bites into the sandwich. "I guess that's another odd thing I'll have to get used to," she says. "The idea you've lived this... full life before I came along in it. That there could have been other people--and there almost was; I haven't forgotten the oruch girl story," she adds with a grin. "But I also know you met me and you chose me. That's the most important thing."

Telamon looks amused. "I was thirteen. I was a -boy-. I'm twenty-two now. We're all formed by our lives, our experiences... the choices we make and the consequences of said choices." He shakes his head. "Last I heard, Maria was married with a daughter of her own. She's happy, but we've both gone down our own paths."

His arm around Raven, as he looks out at the river flowing past. "If anything had changed, I might -not- have met you. So regardless, I'm happy to have come to this spot. With you. Here and now and always." He leans in to kiss her gently.

And Ravenstongue returns that kiss, leaning into him as they share that moment. The rain gently pours down onto Telamon's parasol, kept aloft above their heads by the unseen servant, and the river water rushes past them as the time goes by.

It is not so long and yet so long at the same time: a lover's paradox. Ravenstongue draws back, her eyes sparkling a little. "Here and now and always," she says.

Then she casts a look down to her sandwich. She flushes a little. "I just thought of the corniest thing to say, ever."

Telamon smiles broadly, looking into her eyes. "So say it. I won't laugh." He looks out at the gentle rain, coming down on the river, safe from it under the parasol.

"Something you need to remember is that words from the heart... regardless of how silly, or corny, or even absurd... you cherish them, just like I do. Life is like that, 'Lana. It's not a knightly tale or a courtly romance. It's ridiculous and messy and sometimes your alchemy lab explodes on you. But it's ours."

"I just kind of thought for a moment--and I think I might be plagiarizing from a book I read elsewhere, but someone also said, 'good poets borrow, great poets steal'--that your kiss tastes better than any food or drink," Ravenstongue admits shyly, her face flushed.

She shakes her head a little, as though to try and dismiss some of her nervousness and apprehension about saying it aloud. "I told you it was corny. I might have even written something like that when I was a teenager, come to think of it."

Telamon grins. "Oh, my dear 'Lana. I guess I have no excuse here, since that poetry I mentioned? One of the -milder- verses talks about 'lips as sweet as summer wine'." He gives her a sly grin. "That would be -yours-, by the way."

"So if your lines are corny, well then, you're in good company." He hugs her close. "But I think a better way to put it might be 'we stand on the shoulders of giants', when it comes to plagiarism. It sounds so much more respectable."

The two sit in comfortable nearness, watching the rain patter down, and the river go by.